#i worked on Josh red rocks until my eyes were crossing now it’s time for beddy bye

[whoahoney]

Based off this lovely thought that got deleted bc my dumbass posted the draft instead of saving it 🥲 anon, I hope this finds you!!! Please tell me if it did 😭💖 this could’ve been a mini series I think but I’m too lazy to spread it out!

Anyway, here’s my rambling imaginings 💖

Warnings: fem!reader, quite a bit of angst, a lot more fluff, some wine drinking and allusions to spice.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hate to say it, but you’d been dreading this.

The news had been exciting when they found out about the tour. You, too, felt that exhilarating burst of energy hum through the room as the tour manager began the breakdown of the cities they’d see and the venues they’d play.

You’d hardly heard the shouts of joy around you, but you did see Jake’s face. His eyes so wide and bright, his smile stretched so taught across his mouth, his cheeks must’ve ached. You’d never seen him so happy as he threw his arms around Josh, clapping him on the back. Sam and Danny bounced over, already deep in eager conversation about Milan and France.

It was everything they’d been dreaming of.

Everything Jake had been dreaming of.

The four of them were a tight clump, muffled chuckles and words were exchanged as their parents joined in their embrace with pride and tears. Your heart swelled at the sight, being able to be here for it, to watch them celebrate, to see their dreams come true before their very eyes.

A world tour.

They’d just finished their last one, barely even unpacked. And now he’d be gone again.

Your stomach sank heavily, like a rock into quick sand, guilt churning deep within you; how could you be so damn selfish? This is everything he’s ever wanted and you’re thinking about yourself, again.

You keep the smile on your face, your hands knotted in your lap until Karen turned to you, eyes rimmed in red as she wiped at them, “Oh, honey, get on up in here—what are you doin way over there!” She chuckled as you blushed and made your way over to the unwinding arms, the layers of bodies falling away as Jake let go of Josh and looked to you.

One side of his smile hiked up, and you could see he’d clearly shed a few tears of his own as he wiped a fresh track away and passed it off as tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You don’t hesitate to reach for him, chuckling softly when he yanks you into his chest and wraps you up tight.

You breathe him in, and swallow a hiccup—his neck a heady mixture of his warmth, sandalwood, and something deep and spicy that always cut through you. Tonight you clung to it like a safety blanket, thinking of the nights you spent in his bed without him, nose buried in his pillow as you tried not to cry like a lovesick fool.

“It’s really happening.” He whispers against your hair, running a tender hand down the back of your head.

You nod, “Better believe it, rockstar. You deserve every bit of it.” You squeeze him a little tighter before pulling back, already feeling the swell of emotions brewing within you.

For the rest of the visit with the managers and family, you sat quietly next to Jake, his arm slung around you holding you close, his other hand on your knee. He noted how tightly your legs were crossed and how you picked at your nails unflinchingly, not much to be heard from you.

Jake knew he didn’t need words from you to know you were okay, but every bit of his intuition told him something was up. He’d worried about leaving you alone so much. About how tiresome it must have gotten to be in a relationship over the phone for the last 8 months. Even missing your first anniversary while he was in Chicago.

He wondered if maybe your feelings were fading, that maybe he’d thought wrong about claiming all life had to offer him—that he couldn’t have both love and fame no matter how many times he convinced himself that maybe it’d work with the right person, and he was well passed sure that he’d found that person in you.

“—But until then, you guys are free. So use these next couple months to your advantage!” Aaron clapped and rubbed his hands together, eager for the next time they would hit the ground running.

Jake shoots you a familiar glance, his eyes asking, ‘are you ready to go?’

You nod and stand with him, bidding the family a good night before you were in Jake’s car headed back to his house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The ride was quiet, almost tense. Jake thought maybe you were biding your time, wanting to be careful with your words and say the right thing as you always did. His chest tensed and he turned up the radio, so maybe the pressure to say something wouldn’t be so bad.

You were thankful for the Jefferson Airplane coming through the speakers, Today lulling you into a hazy calm as you stared out the window at the dark tree line. Jake snuck a glance at you every once in a while, trying to figure you out in a way he never had to before.

When you reach the long driveway and park, he turns to you expectantly. Your eyes dart away from his, scanning the car for anything else to look at besides his pretty face that made you wanna crumple like old paper.

“What?” You ask barely over a whisper.

“That’s what I’m wondering, myself.” He says casually, running his index finger down your cheek. “Talk to me.” He says softly.

You swallow and shake your head insistently, “Nothing, babe, I’m just tired. S’been an exciting day.” You chuckle and meet his eye with a soft smile that told him you were okay. You kissed his palm that now cradled your cheek before he could ask anymore questions. “That’s all.” You assure.

Jake nods and swipes his thumb across your cheek one more time before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours chastely—once, twice, three times, before pulling back and appraising you.

“Let’s get inside.” He whispered, suggesting a hot shower as you open your door and comically rush ahead of him just to hear his boisterous laughter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It hadn’t been long since Jake had fallen asleep, his hair still damp from when you washed it for him, bergamot and rosemary shampoo the two of you shared lingered in the air around you. The light of the moon kissed his nose, his blanket tucked up over his shoulder. He was always beautiful, but when he slept he looked prettier than a Grecian bust.

You couldn’t sleep no matter how tired you got, and staring at the object of both your affection and agony wasn’t helping. You snuck out of bed, pulling on the cozy robe he’d gotten you the first night you stayed with him, and made off to the living room with your phone.

You’d become quite familiar with the space despite not getting to share much time with Jake in it. He’d asked you to take care of the plants and his cat, Percy, reminding you to send him pictures and updates whenever you were over there.

Really, he just wanted to see you in his house like it was your own. When you sent him snapchats looking all cute and sleepy in his bed, it did more for him than he thought possible. He’d told you to sleep on his side so that when he got home his sheets would smell like you, and you had no objections to his request.

Since the start of Dreams in Gold, you’d practically lived here, waiting for him to come home.

Your steps were light and slow as you crept down the hall, the quiet chatter of the forgotten TV was directed around a beautiful Asian dish being made on the screen. A single lamp was lit and the orange glow filled the room and part of the kitchen.

You spy your AirPods on the island and plop down in a chair at the counter, another soft light just barely illuminating the kitchen, emanating beauty and nocturnal comfort.

You tuck an earbud into your ear and open your music, trying to piece together the genre that would make the ache go away, nothing too slow or sad, nothing too loud— and then it hit you with a small smile.

You search up the 50s Greats playlist and hit shuffle, sighing in content when the sound of Unchained Melody began. Your mind went peacefully blank, and you laid your head on top of your folded arms.

And then you spotted the wine fridge.

The idea sounded lovely, a glass of fancy red to make you sleep? Yes please.

You tucked the other ear bud in and went about pouring yourself a generous amount of drink in a long stemmed glass Jake brought back from a vineyard he doesn’t remember visiting.

You took a generous gulp and tried not to gag at the bitter taste. It burned all the way down but not with a bite, a slow bitter curl coated your tongue and throat, insisting on more and more to be drunk.

So you do, and finish the glass before tucking your knees to your chest.

Your head was heavy, and just as Can’t Take My Eyes Off You begins, you notice the cooling tears that had fallen down your cheeks unknowingly. You sniffle and then hiccup, twisting your empty glass and considering a refill as Jake shuffled out of the hallway, his pants slung low on his hips and his shirt missing.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted around the room, spotting you after you sniffled again from your place balled up in the chair, your face buried in your knees.

“Hey…” he whispers, not noticing your headphones until he wraps his arms around you and you jump with a yelp. You rip out your AirPod and face him with flooded eyes, in the midst of your cry. “Baby!” He coos in surprise, “What’s wrong?” He pulls you back into his chest, his fingertips at work against your scalp.

You shake your head, “I… I-It was just a bad dream. I’m okay, I promise.” You sniffle, staring at his chest and not his face. His hands cupped your chin and made you meet his eye.

“Look at me.” He said with quiet and loving firmness. You lock eyes with him and take a deep breath through your mouth as he does. “I know you haven’t been to sleep.” He said knowingly. You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong…” he whispered, “—Before I start making assumptions.” He finished as if he hadn’t already formed them from the moment he saw your face at the studio meeting.

You stare at him for a moment, your tipsy brain swimming with swollen emotions and bruised self image.

“Everything.” You whisper before shaking your head, “And absolutely nothing. Truly.” You clamp your eyes shut in confusion. “It’s gonna be fine though.” You assure quietly, both yourself and him.

Jake puts a hand on your shoulder, keeping the other on your face. “Is this about the tour?” He asked quieter than before, his tone void of emotion.

You hesitate before you nod, and he mirrors you when he sees your answer, and you feel fear strike through you like a crack of thunder. He tsks and you feel his fingers squeeze your shoulder before rubbing it lovingly, “Whatever you’re thinking… I just want you to know… whatever you want, I want too.” He said directly into your eyes.

Your brows pinch before you shake your head, “What?”

He shakes his head and casts his gaze low, his mouth flat and eyes still empty, like a stone wall was put up to guard the windows you’d so easily peered into before. Was he angry? Was this what it looked like for him?

“I should’ve thought about what it would mean for you— me being gone all the time.” He said lowly. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of it, I really don’t.”

“It’s not that I’m tired of it, Jake.” You finally say. His eyes find yours again and you place the AirPod in your hand on the counter to cradle his face as he had done yours, “I love seeing your dreams come true. You are magic out there, baby—I will never get tired of hearing all the stories you have or the feeling I get when you call me on the road.” You ramble, thinking out loud more than anything.

“I’m just… scared.” You realize. Jake flinches back a little in confusion, “—scared of everything the world has to offer you—Everything I don’t have—it’s out there. And you have every opportunity imaginable, now. And yeah, I miss you like crazy, and I get bummed when I realize I’m watching your life happen through a phone screen, but I love seeing you happy even more than missing out makes me sad.” You shake your head emphatically.

Your phone lights up and Jake catches a glimpse of the album currently playing and forgotten in the AirPods. Jake looks back at you and picks up the loose ear bud, tucking it in his ear before reaching for your phone and unlocking it.

You chuckle in disbelief, tears still rolling down your face as he scrolls through the playlist and selects We Belong Together by Los Lobos and sets the phone back down, adjusting the volume with his slick smile that told you everything was about to be fine.

“The world?” He asks as he pulls you to your feet and places his hands around your waist. You drape your arms around his shoulders as you’d done countless times before and waited for him to continue, “I have it. Right here.” His fingers worked under the back of your shirt to graze your skin lovingly.

You scoff as he begins to sway you both side to side, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering confidence in his words. “I’m serious.” He says before releasing one hand from you and raising the other to have you spin, which you obliged with an adoring eye roll.

“You say that now, but—“

“No, no buts.” He shakes his head and begins swaying you again, “I don’t care what’s out there when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted right here at home with me.” He pulled you close and kissed your neck, the affection sending more tears prickling at your eyes and a wistful sigh

“Jake—“

“Shhh…” he whispered in your ear, tucking your head into his shoulder, “You’re mine. And I’m yours.” He said. “Nothings going to change that. Not as long as you want to be with me.” He stroked your back reassuringly as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“I always want to be with you.” You whisper pathetically, letting your forehead thunk against his chest.

You feel him chuckle against you before he kisses your head, “And I with you.” He says like a guy with a plan before he spins you, smiling at your own sleepy smile and closed eyes as you begin dancing with him properly, hips swaying and bare feet shuffling across the cold tile floor.

You giggle, “I can’t believe you like me that much.”

Jake snickers at your flushed skin, happy to see you so light after the heaviness that followed you today. He missed you. This.

Jake loved dancing with you. Whenever a song called to him, he was quick to sweep you up in a waltz and relish every smile or giggle he could pull out of you. When you started staying the night with him, you guys would take turns playing music, which quickly evolved into Jake playing beautiful melodies he said reminded him of you, songs he’d heard and longed to share with you in a close dance.

To think of it, everything made him think of you, he realized as he swayed with you in his arms. “More than you know.” He mumbled, spinning you one more time before wrapping you up and resting his head against yours, singing the rest of the song in his low velvety voice.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There were only two weeks left til the band left for tour.

After your conversation with Jake things felt better. The dread hadn’t loomed over you like you assumed it would, and things with Jake were as good as ever, no holds barred anymore. You were quick to tell him your thoughts and feelings, even more so now than you had before, and seemingly, so had Jake.

You worried you’d lose that once he left, though. That it would be something you had to work and build at when you’d get back together.

During Dreams in Gold, you made three shows, and got two weeks with him in the middle of the tour, uninterrupted—which was nice! But it was different than seeing him every day and falling asleep next to him at night.

Today, you were at the studio to go over more details and itinerary for the first leg of performances in the states.

You and Jake showed up only 20 minutes late with matching iced coffees, Sam scoffing when he saw you didn’t bring him one of his own.

“This is what I get for being here on time!” He flopped into the couch and looked at Danny, who was just reentering the room, “They got Scooters!”

Danny’s eyes widened, “That’s so uncool.” He playfully seethed before whipping out his phone and muttering something about delivery and a cookie.

Jake obnoxiously slurps the emptying drink with eyes locked on Sam’s. Sam lurches to his feet and storms over to his brother to snatch the empty cup and throw it in the trash. “Not on my watch.”

Wordlessly you hand Jake yours, still half full, for him to take a sip just as Josh strode in. “I made it! Can we get a time stamp?” He asked the room around him.

“It’s 9:37, Josh.” Aaron marked from the other side of the room as he prepared itemized sheets for everyone. Josh nods with an easy smile. “We were due to meet at 9:00.” Aaron amended, wiping the smug smile off Josh’s face.

“Oh. Well, we’re all here now, right? Let’s start! Whatcha got for us?” Josh leaned on the table and listened intently.

The group gathered around the table and took a look at the papers in front of them, getting handed your own with your name at the top for whatever reason. You miss the expectant look from Jake and Aaron but you read the pages carefully, seeing where this adventure would take Jake this time.

Back through the states, most he’d seen before, and then the countries— the Netherlands, Germany, Ireland, Spain, Portugal— places you’d dreamed of seeing long before you dreamed of Jake Kiszka.

You sigh, softly and dreamily as Aaron talks transport for their European leg; plane rides and first class tickets, excursions to the Louvre and Stonehenge, and lodging and hostels.

“Is the little place we have for our week in France the same one we used for that little getaway we took a couple years ago?” Sam asked with excitement.

Aaron nodded as did Jake, “Yep! Oh, Jake, I put you guys in the empress suite like you asked. I’m still waiting on confirmation at two of the other hotels, but you guys should be set with a master suite wherever we’re staying.” The manager looked from Jake to you as he spoke, your confusion stirring, was there a mistake? Are he and Josh sharing rooms?

Jake looks to you with expectant eyes, as if waiting for your thoughts. He smiles and nudges your shoulder when you don’t answer, “What do you think?”

“About what?” The group breaks into laughter as you look at Jake for an explanation.

“About coming with me.” He took your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. You softly gasped and looked over the papers in front of you again, your own agenda highlighted in orange for when the band would be busy.

You look back at him in awe, “Really?” Is all you can muster in a ghost of your voice.

Jake smiled and nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course—I’m tired of leaving you.” He covered your hand with his. “Say you’ll come.”

You nod before you can speak and then kiss him right on the mouth. “I wanna be wherever you are.” You say with a cheek aching smile, a real one stretched wide across your face.

“And I, you.” He agreed, though he knew his words could never convey how much he shared the feeling.

But hopefully… the other surprises he had planned for the tour can say it for him…

-

-

[gretavanbitch]

Tangled up in blue- 3

warnings- light smut, drugs, alcohol. 

The dull light of the afternoon sun reflected off of Josh’s cheekbones as he showed Penny around the venue and the various rooms. He led her around, hand in hand with childlike excitement, explaining every funny thing that happened in every specific spot. 

“Oh and here's where Sam yacked after taking five tequila shots in a row,” he laughed heartily, placing a hand across his chest. Penny shook her head, laughing at the antics concurring within the band. They finished the tour by entering the tour bus for a pre-show drink and warm-up. Sam sat on one of the various tables, criss cross applesauce and void of shoes of course, Jake was sat sideways in a chair strumming his guitar, and Danny was crouched in front of a mirror far too short for him trying to do his hair. Josh sat across from Jake, patting the seat next to him softly. His eyes widened for a moment, as if he had just remembered something vitally important. 

“Mama, what should I wear tonight?” He said in hyper speed, moving his hands in his usual manner, “I have a few options, but I need your fashion expertise.” 

“What are the options?” Penny answered. Josh then climbed haphazardly across the row and opened a small closet by the bunks, pulling out three extravagant outfits. The first was a purple silk or satin jumpsuit, clad in gems and detailing. The second was a sleeveless black jumpsuit covered in gold detailing. The last was a white jumpsuit, similar to the purple one, just softer in look. She scratched her chin thoughtfully, pondering it seriously in her head. 

“You look sexy in purple,” she answered after a few moments of consideration. Jake then snorted, chuckling to himself. 

“Yeah if you consider looking like a magenta hobbit sexy,” he continued. Penny laughed at the other twin's response, looking at Josh’s offended expression. Josh then silently, and dramatically removed the purple jumpsuit from the hanger and moved into the bathroom to change. While Josh was gone, the rest of the group decided to bring out the good stuff. Danny put a large bottle of tequila on the table, causing Sam to make a queasy face. Jake then placed a freshly rolled joint and a few beers down next to it. Penny smiled, feeling relieved that she had a group of friends to do these things with rather than alone with her cat on the couch. She plopped herself down next to Jake, causing her suede jacket to ruffle slightly, she then grabbed the joint and raised her eyebrows at Jake, asking permission to light it. He nodded, handing her his silver zippo in response. She then leaned into the light and inhaled, feeling that familiar burning sensation run through her chest. Josh soon exited the bathroom, of course making a show out of it. He first swung his leg out and then dramatically sung some old show tune, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed and then offered a hit of the joint to him. He responded with an excited “ooh” and took a hit. He looked magnificent, the purple perfectly accented his skin tone, making it gleam in a pearly fashion. His hair was his usual mop, but now it was a tad longer, covering his ears and falling perfectly. He was beautiful, truly. 

“That probably isn’t great for your voice babe,” she thought out loud. Josh raised his eyebrows at her mid-hit. He exhaled then thought for a moment. 

“You are probably right, wise one.” 

After the J was passed around to everybody a few times, pre-show nerves were no longer present, and it was time to get in the real mood. Jake handed everybody a shot glass and poured a generous amount of tequila in each. Sam still looked unhappy about the choice in alcohol, but held the glass in his hand anyways. 

“Cheers,” rang out from the group and heads tilted back, mouths filling with the painful taste of tequila. Penny felt the shot rush straight to her head, the mixture of weed and alcohol making her feel slightly dizzy, but still dazed out.

“Lets rock this shit,” Jake exclaimed loudly, in a british accent for some reason. 

“Oh no, Oliver Reed is back,” Danny sighed, carrying the bottle out as the group exited the bus. Josh and Penny were the last ones to get up, staying together for one last moment of silence before the show began. 

“You look beautiful,” Penny said truthfully, running her hands softly down the fabric. He glanced down at her hands for a moment, then back up into her eyes, running a hand through her hair as he did. 

“You look stunning mama, you always do,” he said, inching closer to her slowly. She smiled softly, pulling the collar of his jumpsuit closer to her. Josh then closed the gap between the pair, connecting their lips. The kiss began softly, feeling out the waters as if they had not swam in them a thousand times before. He tasted like tequila and smoke, but it felt like home. She sighed into the kiss softly, running her hands up and down his chest lovingly. Just as the kiss got more intense and their tongues traced the outlines of the other, Josh pulled away with narrowed eyes. 

“Fuck, I missed you Pen,” he said in a hushed whisper. He then took her hand and guided her towards the green room behind the stage. The few minutes they had together as a group before the show were filled with adrenaline, and more shots. She managed to snap a few photos amidst the chaos. One of Jake and Josh posed in front of a large painting, Josh holding a fire extinguisher for whatever alcohol induced reason, and Jake with his hands clasped in front of his red suit. She also snapped one of Josh, leaning against a box smiling. She made sure to capture the realness of the moment, wanting to remember the beauty of his persona at the show. 

Soon enough, the boys pranced onto the stage and Penny stood against an amp box by the side of the stage watching in awe. It was not her first time seeing the boys perform, but everytime she did, it felt better than the last. The show began with a fan favorite, Heat Above. This was one of Penny’s favorite tracks on the album, remembering back to the sunny mornings when Josh would belt it out in the shower, tinkering with certain parts of it. The song was a work of art, one of their best, and it deserved to be based on how long they waited to release it. The other numbers passed by in a haze, she loved every moment, dancing and singing along wildly by the side of the stage. Every now and then Josh would turn around to her on a particularly lovely line and wink at her. He did this during Highway tune’s “so sweet, so nice, so fine,” and Light my love’s “your mind is stream of colors.” The fact that he looked at her during these specific lyrics made her heart hurt with happiness, knowing that Josh felt the same way about her. 

The band soon exited the stage, sweaty and filled to the brim with post-show adrenaline. Josh immediately ran to her, pulling her hand behind him as he ran to one of the dressing rooms. Penny was slightly confused by his quick exit, but followed him nevertheless, she would follow him anywhere. He shut the door in a hurry and connected their lips harshly. She froze for a second, still wondering where this rush of affection came from, but she soon gave in, melting into his touch. He then pushed her against the door and pushed her jacket off of her shoulders. She sighed, lifting his chin up and meeting his eyes. He looked at her with wide eyes, licking his own lips. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it after a few seconds. But his nexts words caused Penny to have another head rush, but this time it wasn’t due to tequila. 

“I love you,” he said in such a hushed whisper that she could barely hear it over the crowd still relishing in the shows excitement. She blinked, slightly tearily and put her hands on either side of his face. 

“I love you, Joshua.” Josh then kissed her with a fercosity that had never been present between the pair, until now. She whined against him, as his core jutted against her own. His hands were roaming over her body, squeezing her ass over her jeans, and toying with her breasts. They were then interupted harshly with a knock on the door that vibrated into Penny’s back. 

“Guys, I know you haven’t seen each other in a bit, but can you save the fucking for when we have a hotel, we kind of need to change our clothes,” Jake yelled through the door. Penny looked at Josh, meeting his eyes with a surprised expression. They maintained the eye contact for a moment before breaking out in hysterical laughter, clutching their stomachs as Josh opened the door to a very annoyed Jake.

.

Hi babes, I know this chapter is rather short, I just had a really busy day today! next one will be longer (and maybe more smut) :) 

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Treehouse

Summary: Right before Dipper and Mabel return to Gravity Falls for another summer, Stan and Ford decide to do something nice for them only for it to nip them in the butt.

Author’s Note: So if there is ONE thing I'm disappointed in the GF fandom for (besides BillDip and ANY incest shipping) is that there are NO Drake and Josh references! I can think of at least twelve episodes that would fit PERFECTLY with the silver foxes! Seriously, am I just in the dark or crazy or has no one else made that connection? Anywho, thank you so much for reading and if you liked this one-shot then you should check my fics out; I've done quite a bit of Gravity Falls that can be found on FanFiction.net. Have a great day!

https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_tab_list.php

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford hummed a mindless tune to himself as he picked up the red toolbox and climbed up a make-shift ladder; he had made it by hammering planks of thick wood to a tree, leading up to where the Treehouse of Dreams was, or will be when he and Stan finished it.

It was so hot in the early summer afternoon that Ford had actually shed his trenchcoat and rolled up his sweater-sleeves, showcasing his less-gruesome scars. His six-fingered work gloves covered the old burn-scars on his wrists given to him by Bill, so he was comfortable freeing some skin in order to work more efficiently. While it was an adventure of a lifetime to sail with his brother on the Stan O' War II, Ford found it extremely rewarding to build something bigger than a hand-held invention and to do it for two people he loved very much.

Dipper and Mabel would be back in Gravity Falls in a few hours, and when they came back, they would find a huge "Beginning of Summer" party waiting for them at the lake and a new treehouse in the woods. Stanley first snorted and said the teenagers were too old for a treehouse, but then Ford showed him the blueprints and the old conman agreed to help.

This treehouse was located about two or three rows of trees away from the Mystery Shack, enough to give a brooding teenager privacy if wanted, and it had three sections and a small deck for fresh air. The middle section was designed to be a shared space between the twins, but then they each had their own space, Dipper's host a work-deck and a bookshelf while Mabel's had a rocking chair (made by Ford himself and decorated with birds, gnomes, pinetrees, and other things one would find in the woods, carved into the soft, polished wood) and drawers for art supplies. There were no walls separating the sections, but Ford did have curtains that could be drawn for alone-time if desired. The whole treehouse was furnished, decorated, and ready to go, except for the last wall.

Stan walked up to the old okay tree with a glass of lemonade in his hands. He gave a low whistle. "Lookin' good, Sixer."

"Stanley!" Ford scolded from the treehouse. "You were supposed to be helping me!"

"I did help you!" Stan argued. "I made the walls and got the stuff up there! Now, I've been resting, the way old men should be, which hey, have you seen Soos' new attractions? Genius! I dunno where he gets these ideas!"

Ford rolled his eyes and had a small smile on his lips. "Fine, fine, just get up here, you knucklehead, and help me with his last wall."

"You got it." Stan sat the lemonade down on the grass and climbed up in his Hawaiian shirt and tanned shorts. "Right, so what do we do?"

"I got it all set up." Ford explained. "See, it's a pulley system. We just pull on his rope and the last wall will swing up, then I'll screw it into place."

"Right, gotcha." Stan said and grabbed the thick rope hanging above him. "Okay, ready?"

Ford grabbed the rope, as well. "Alright… pull!"

The two men worked together to pull the rope and it worked just as Ford said it would; the wall with a window came up into place just in front of the small deck (the deck was only big enough for either two small people to sit or one adult). With a small creak of wood coming together, the wall was in place.

"Hold it, Stanley."

"I'm holding it." Stan growled as he pulled on the rope tightly solo.

Ford quickly grabbed the power drill and used five-inch titanium screws to secure the wall; he didn't want Steve or a Manotaur to bring this treehouse down. When all fours screws had been placed, Stan testily let go of the rope and let it hang. Ford pushed heavily against the wall and smiled proudly at his work. "Great! We're all done!"

"Hot tamales, the kids are gonna love this place!" Stan punched Ford's shoulder lightly. "Kinda envy 'em, we sure didn't have a cool treehouse like this when we were kids."

"Yes we did, it was just shaped like a boat and on the beach."

Stan laughed. "Right. So, ready for the party?"

"Yes, just let me put away the…" Ford was heading for the exit as he answered his brother, but he found there to be no exit. There was a door drawn on the wall by the window, but no door. Ford's eyes widened as he saw a dilemma that Stan had not yet seen. His temper boiling steadily, Ford turned to Stan, who was admiring the homemade rocking chair, with his hands held so he wouldn't strangle the old conman, and the old scientist asked coldly, "Stanley?"

"Yeah."

"Where's the door-hole?"

Stan looked up and pointed at the wall. "Right there, I drew it in."

Ford could feel a vein popping out of his forehead. "You were supposed to cut it out with the power saw!"

"Geez, Poindexter, relax!" Stan defended with his hands up in surrender. "I was gonna, just like I did with all the windows, but Wendy came to me and said Soos was doing something stupid and to grab a camera, so I decided I'd cut the door-hole later."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes!"

Ford nodded towards the wall. "So go do it. Right now."

"Fine, I will," Stan growled. "Moses, when did you get so bossy?" Stan stopped when he reached the wall and realized he couldn't leave to get the power saw. He tested the wall and looked around the treehouse, ignoring Ford's death glare. "I see the problem."

"Oh, DO YOU?!" Ford yelled sarcastically.

"Okay, okay, so what do we do?!" Stan asked. "The little twerps are gonna be here in three hours and we gotta be at the bus stop when that happens!"

"I know, Stanley, I know." Ford held his forehead as he tried to think. "I… oh! I'll just unscrew this wall so you can get down and cut the door-hole." He picked up the power drill and turned it on. He was just about to unscrew the first screw, when it shut off.

"What happened?" Stan asked.

"I… I have no idea." Ford clicked the tool several times, but the drill would not turn on. He looked out the small window and all Stan heard was a loud, "You have got to be KIDDING me!"

"What, lemme see!" Stan shoved Ford out of the way and looked through the little window to see a deer munching on the cord that connected the drill all the way to an outside outlet of the shack. "Oh, COME ON! Hey! Get outta here! Shoo!" And the deer scampered off.

Ford dropped the useless drill. "Great, just great, you couldn't have cut one simple exit, Stanley?!"

"Hey, you're the idiot who didn't notice there wasn't a door-hole until it was too late!"

"You didn't notice it, either! And now we're gonna miss the niblings getting back!"

"No, we are not!" Ford said stubbornly. "We're going to find a way out of here and we WILL be there on time!"

"And how are we gonna do that?!"

Ford ran a six-fingered hand through his fluffy charcoal-gray hair and seriously evaluated the situation. "Alright, this… let's see… the walls are too thick to cut through with a swiss-army knife. The drill isn't going to work. If we could either get the power saw or have the power drill working again we could get out of here."

"Right, so how do we do either of those things?" Stan asked.

Ford leaned against the wall by the window and peered outside as he thought of a good answer. His eyes widened and he shoved his head out the window. "Mr. Gleeful! Gideon!"

The white-haired chubby child stopped walking towards the Mystery Shack and looked towards the voice. He walked towards the treehouse, all dressed up in his light-blue suit and said, "Well, Stanford! Good to see you again! My, my, what a treehouse!"

"Thank you, but unfortunately, we're stuck." Ford said. "Listen, could you hand us the power saw so Stanley and I can get out of here?"

"Heavens to Betsy, no!" Gideon gasped with ah and to his heart. "Carrying a sharp saw up a tree is too dangerous for wittle ole me!"

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fair enough, but will you at least, please, plug that extra cord to the power drill and then plug it into the shack?"

Gideon smiled and pointed at the old man. "That I can certainly do, Dr. Pines."

"Good, hurry it up." Stan growled from inside the treehouse, his arms crossed over his chest.

Gideon had just picked up the dark-green extension cord when a joyful jingle met his ears. "Oo! The ice cream truck!" The kid squealed as he squished his cheeks with his hands, dropping the cord.

"Gideon!" Stan roared and made Ford move from the window so he could scowl at the kid properly. "Now you listen to me, you little troll, you better plug up the screw driver or I swear I'll…"

"Stanley," Ford said warningly, reminding him that they were actually on somewhat good terms with the demon-child.

Gideon smiled smugly. "You know, I think I'll let you cool down a bit in that nice ole treehouse. I'll be back after some ice cream." And he started to walk away.

"GIDEON!" Stan yelled. "GIDEON!"

Ford shoved Stan out of the way so he could yell out the window. "GIDEON!"

Stan shoved Ford out of the way so he could yell out the window. "GIDEON!"

"GIDEON!"

"GIDEON!"

"GIDEON!"

Stan punched the wall angrily and then yelled and shook his hand to reveal himself of the prickling pain. Ford slumped to the floor and sighed. "Guess we just have to trust he'll come back."

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. "You realize he's not coming back right?"

"I know." Ford moaned.

And so the two old men just sat around and tried to think of a way out of the treehouse. What really irked them was that this was a simple trap; this wasn't like a heavily-guarded government facility or an alien prison, both of which the Pines twins had escaped from; this was a homemade treehouse for their niece and nephew with four windows and no door and no way out. Stan eventually sat in Mabel's new rocking chair, reading a book from Dipper's bookshelf, and Ford paced between the three sections of the small shelter in the oak tree.

Stan checked his watch. "We got two hours to get outta here."

Ford growled and held his hair tightly. Then his eyes grew wide as a simple solution came to mind. "Wait! My cellular phone!" He yelled victoriously and pulled it out of his pocket. "I'll call for help!"

"You just now thought of that?!" Stan yelled.

"Well, where is your cellular phone, Stanley?!" Ford snapped back.

"It died so I left at the shack to charge."

Ford rolled his eyes and began dialing a number. "I'll call Soos and have him come help us."

"Great, let the handyman do his thing!" Stan said and watched as Ford called Soos and put it on speaker. It rang and rang, but no answer. Eventually Ford called a second time.

(None of them were aware that Soos had stepped into the shower before the big party and was now singing Disco Girl to the top of his lungs. "Dipper was right, it is catchy, dude!")

When Soos didn't answer the phone again, Ford guessed, "Maybe his phone also died."

"No, it didn't go straight to voicemail." Stan snatched the phone and said, "You probably dialed the wrong number, lemme try."

Ford took his phone back. "I think I know our handyman's phone number." He growled.

"Just lemme…"

"Stanley, back off!"

"Quit it!"

The two old men fought over the smartphone and even punched and shoved their opponents to try to get the valuable piece of technology, but then it slipped like a bar of soap out of their hands and flew out the window. Ford and Stan stared and then ran and crammed their faces together to see the phone had landed on the grass.

"Nicely done, Stanley."

"You're the one who couldn't get ahold of Soos!" Stan then lit up and asked, "Wait, what about your magnet gun?!"

"I left it in my coat." Ford said as he rolled down his sweater sleeves, no longer burning up from working so hard. "I don't even have my ray gun with me."

"What?! You always have that thing on you! You even take it in the shower!"

"Okay, one: I don't take my weapons with me in the shower, I leave them with my glasses on my towel." Ford defended, sticking a finger up, then he held up two fingers. "Two: you're always on my case about being paranoid!"

"Yeah, I don't want you to be paranoid! But I also don't want you to be an idiot!"

"This is coming from the man who couldn't cut a single door-hole."

"Okay, ya know what…!"

The pointless screaming match went on until they were both hoarse and burned out, resorting in Stan and Ford to lying on the floor of the little house and stare up at the ceiling.

Dipper smiled with his cheek pressed up against his hand as he stared out the bus-window. Mabel was bouncing in her seat, her legs swinging, and her hands gripping the seat. As each new landmark looked familiar, she squealed a little bit more.

"This is so exciting, Dipper!" Mabel cheered. "We're almost home!"

Dipper chuckled and looked at the distant mountains that were starting to appear. "We are almost home." Waddles turned over in his sleep and Dipper rubbed his belly to give him something to do alongside wonder what his great-uncles were doing right now.

"Man, I'm starving." Stan complained, lying with his brother lying opposite so they were shoulder-to-shoulder, but their bodies pointing away from each other; Stan's stomach growled loudly to prove his point.

"I have not eaten since noon." Ford looked at his own watch. "Dipper and Mabel will be here in an hour."

"And Gideon still hasn't come back." Stan growled. "Little troll probably forgot."

Ford sighed and knocked on the wooden floor. "At least we know this treehouse is secure."

Stan snorted. "Yeah, you did a good job, Genius."

Ford smiled. "Thank you. You did help and provide necessary skills, and that was very appreciated."

"Yeah, yeah." Stan waved away and then let his hand collapse on his gut. "And, hey, while were here, what made you wanna build this in the first place?"

The eldest twin shrugged (as much as one can when lying down). "I wanted to do something nice for the kids."

"I think they would much rather see you than get all this." Stan teased.

Ford chuckled nervously. "You're probably right."

"Hey, a broken clock is right twice a day."

Ford sat up and asked, "Did you hear that?"

"Relax, it's not some monster, that's just my stomach again."

"No, Stanley," Ford stood up and looked out the window on the left wall, the section of the treehouse designed for Dipper, and gasped, "Mr. Shmebulock! Mr. Shmebulock! Over here!"

Stan got up and joined his brother. Sure enough, sitting on a tree branch and munching on an acorn was an old speechless gnome. He smiled at the sight of the old Pines men and cheered, "Shmebulock!"

"Yes, hello!" Ford held out his hand and the gnome, who was about the same size as Ford's six-fingered hand, sat and allowed the human to bring him into the treehouse. "Listen, we need your help. We're trapped here and Mabel and Dipper will be back any moment now. Can you…"

"Shmebulock?" The gnome gasped with smiling eyes.

"Yes, Mabel and Dipper are returning, so we need you… hey!" The gnome had hopped off Ford's hand and then climbed down the tree and started to scamper away. "Mr. Shmebulock! Mr. Shmebulock, please!"

"Get back here you little pest!" Stan demanded, but the gnome had gone off to greet the niblings when they returned. "If you try to make my niece your queen again I'll…"

"Stanley, let it go." Ford moaned and collapsed into the chair of Dipper's desk. "What do we do now?"

Stan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "What can we do?"

No one had an answer for either question.

Right on time, at six o'clock, the bus pulled up to the stop in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Dipper and Mabel grinned with their luggage in hand, pig at their feet, and waiting at the steps of the bus, and they were greeted by Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, Gideon, and Pacifica. The twins ran off the bus and jumped into their friends' arms. Soos wrapped each twin up in a big bear-hug, cutting off the air-flow in their necks, until Mabel was pulled into a girls' hug by Candy and Grenda and Wendy traded hats back with Dipper; he had enjoyed Wendy's ushanka even in the warm California sun, but it was good to sport his pinetree cap again.

"We missed you guys SO much!" Mabel cheered.

"You talked to us, like, every day." Pacifica said as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but now I can attack you with love!" And the brunette wrapped the blonde up in a tight hug before she could be stopped.

"Hey, where's Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford?" Dipper asked casually.

"Yeah, the party can't start without them!" Mabel said.

"Don't worry, dudes," Soos reassured. "They're probably already at the party."

"OH NO!" Gideon yelled, slapping his cheeks in shock, and he turned red as he began to confess a mistake he had made for the sake of ice-cream.

Stan was hitting his forehead against the back wall of the treehouse. Ford knew he sometimes did this to try to think clearly. He just sat by the drawn-door and watched, having an idea of when he should intervene his brothers possibly harmful way of coming up with a plan.

"Stanley, this treehouse won't be very appealing if you manage to get blood on the wall."

Stan stopped and looked down at his watch. It was twenty minutes after the kids were supposed to be back. "Alright, that's it!" He yelled, a new wave of adrenaline coursing through him as the idea of not seeing the kids drove him crazy. "That's it! We're finding a way outta here!"

"How?" Ford asked.

"You could try asking for help."

The men were frozen, but then fought over who could look out the window first until they resorted to sharing. Sure enough, Dipper and Mabel stood at the foot of the oak tree with their little group of friends behind them, all biting their lip and snickering.

"KIDS!"

"Wow, cool man-cave, guys!" Mabel called.

"Yeah, this gives the Manotaurs a run for their money." Dipper sneered.

"Just shut up and get us outta here so I can hug you two knuckleheads!" Stan yelled.

Mabel saluted and said, "Yes sir! C'mon, Soos you make sure the sax's plugged in, Dipper and I will go up there!"

"Hold it!" Wendy called out, then pulled out her phone and took a quick picture of the old men trapped in the treehouse. "Hehe, blackmail."

"You're fired."

"You've fired me fifteen times, Stan, and I'm still here." Wendy replied coolly.

The kids all laughed as Dipper and Mabel climbed up to the small deck, Wendy handed them the saw, Soos made sure it was plugged in, and then Dipper and Mabel called out a warning and started to cut an exit. Stan and ford backed up as the younger pair of twins carefully cut a door-shaped hole and soon a big piece of wood fell forward, freeing the older pair of twins.

Mabel blew on the saw, which was unplugged by Soos to make sure it was safe, and then she asked, "Now where's that hug we were promised?"

She ditched the saw and ran with her brother into Ford and Stan's arms as they got on their knees and were happily reunited for another summer.

[hannie-dul-set]

(thirteen times) i love you— 05

— wherein y/n (a hopeless romantic) seems to fall in love with nearly ever guy she meets. so, she writes letters for them to compensate. these letters weren't meant for them to read, but what happens when they all end up receiving them?

05 // you put flowers to shame

word count: 1.9k

a/n: hnnn yn is dumb and a mood

next part will be on July 23rd, 8:00PM EST!

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masterlist

The walk towards the garden went at an agonizingly slow pace. You were supposed to meet Joshua there according to Seungcheol (whom arranged the meeting without your consent— the male is gonna receive a beating from you later, for sure). To say you were ready to face Joshua would be a gigantic lie, but you can't back out now.

"I swear to god, the next time I see Seungcheol's face— he's gonna fucking get it." You continually muttered, passing through the hallways filled with numerous students. You could see a few weird looks thrown at your direction, causing your mood to sink down even further. Try being in my place for a day, will you?

A faint buzzing interrupts your incessant curses. Pulling out your phone, you let out a groan.

[seungcheol: psst hey hey

seungcheol: joshua's already there hehehe]

[you: 🖕]

A myriad of green foliage and blossoming flowers came into view. You pause for a while, letting out a long sigh. Alright, Y/N, you can do this. Joshua is literally one of the nicest people you've ever met. If anything wrong happens— there's a well nearby. After mustering up the slightest amount of courage you could manage to conjour, you made your way to the garden's entrance.

The smell of fresh flowers drown your senses. A few feet away, you could see Joshua sitting on one of the benches, arms crossed and eyes closed. He blends perfectly with the greenery; as if he belonged in the center of a painting scenery. The air around him is nothing but serenity— your previous foul mood dissolving into thin air upon seeing the sight.

You shake your head, snapping you out of your trance. Focus, Y/N. You're here to retrieve your letter, not to gawk at this devastatingly pretty boy without his consent no matter how tempting it could be— there's always a time for that. Focus.

Repeating the mantra in your head, you inched towards the resting male, careful to not disturb him on your way (the rocks on the ground made it quite a difficult task). Once you've reached him, you weren't sure what to do next. You pondered whether or not to say something to wake him up. A few seconds of silence pass until you finally decided to say something, but a low groan stopped you from doing so.

"Oh, Y/N. You're here."

Well shit. Goodbye, focus.

"Um, y-yeah. Have you been waiting long?" You stammered. Dear god, why did he have to say your name with that damned morning voice— it isn't even morning for fuck's sake. Your mental scolding continued until the male managed to stifle out a response in his half-asleep state.

"Mm, not too long," Joshua placed his palm over his mouth, letting out a yawn. "C'mon. Take a seat," he scooted over to give you room to sit on the bench. Slowly, you sat beside him. Despite being seated next to the male, you refused to look at him; your focus was entirely on the purple patch of forget-me-nots in front of you. You placed your hand on your chest in the hopes of calming down your erratic heartbeat. Y/N, you dumb bitch. The letter— you're here to bring back the letter, not to bring back your buried feelings for the damned male. Absolutely not, you reminded yourself once more.

Neither of the both of you say a thing. The once peaceful air was replaced with an uncomfortable touch of awkwardness. You decided to spare a quick glance at the male. But upon turning your head towards him, you were met by a pair of eyes as well. A flush of pink covers your cheeks at the sudden eye-contact and you instantly turned away. You could hear a slient cough coming from beside you and the sound of him shuffling in his seat.

Y/N, go say something, for god's sake.

You bit your bottom lip, thinking of the proper words to say to break the chilling silence.

"So, about the letter—"

"About the letter you sent—"

You slap your hand over your mouth, preventing you from saying anything any further. You cheeks began to flare a bright red even more. A small smile forms on Joshua's face as he lets out a gentle laugh from the exchange. "You go first."

Holy shit—. You mentally smacked yourself. Keep it together, Y/N.

"Um well," you bit the inside of your mouth, raising your head to look at the male (which was a really bad idea). He stared down at you, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted upwards and his eyes filled with nothing but a soft glint of attentiveness. In short, he almost murdered you with that stare.

You stifled out a cough, trying to get yourself back on track. "Actually, Joshua. That letter was written like, four years ago."

"I had a feeling it wasn't recent," Joshua smiled, his attention turning towards a nearby rose bush. "Your way of words in the letter seemed different from how you currently write."

"How—how would you know?" you gaped, eyes widening from the males remark. Joshua lets out a chuckle, still not facing you.

"Well, you are in the school paper. I read your works, sometimes," he hummed. He gives you a side glance, mouth still in the form a sweet, gentle smile. "It's hard not to, you know."

This guy is really out to kill me.

You wanted to punch yourself, but you couldn't do that without looking like some sort of weirdo in front of the male. Lightly slapping yourself in the face (without Joshua seeing, of course), you made yourself recall what you came here for.

"A-anyways. If you don't mind, Joshua, I'd like to have to letter back," you sputtered out. "Everything written there is all in the past so you don't have to worry about anything— I, uh, I don't like you anymore. At least not it that way."

Joshua remains silent for a while, pressing his lips together tightly. His expression is unreadable and you started to grow anxious by each passing second, staring at the male with an evident nervous look in your gaze. Did I say something wrong?

"Ah, is that so?" he spoke out and you nodded in response. Joshua hummed and reached for his pocket, pulling out the familiar yellow envelope. "Here," he handed it over to you, a slight smile plastered on his face, causing one to bloom on yours as well. You slowly took the item from his hand and held it tightly, giving him a grateful look.

"Thank you so much, Joshua."

"It's not a problem."

The male gave you a close-eyed grin, sending a surge of warmth all throughout your body. Time to yeet out of here, Y/N. Dont give into the devil's tempation.

You readied yourself to stand up and to take your leave, but a sudden but firm grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

"Y/N—," a flustered look shrouds Joshua's face and he immediately lets go of you. "Sorry, my bad," he scratches the crook of his neck and bashfully looks away from your direction.

"It's fine, Josh. Is there something on your mind?" you inquired, raising your brow at the male. He hesitantly opens his mouth but closes it once again. Your mouth forms into a slight frown. You don't know what was going inside the male's head, but as far as you've known him, he's always hesitated in doing things for his own self-satisfaction— he's always done what the people want, even at his own expense.

"Joshua," the male snaps out of his trance upon hearing the sound of your voice. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me anything— whatever it is, I'll listen."

Surprised at your sentiment, Joshua's eyes widen. He then trails his attention to the ground, taking in a long and deep breath. Slowly, he pulls his head up, eyes taking you in entirely.

"Y/N, if you don't mind," he pauses for a while, one of his hands playing with his sleeve. "I hope this won't be the last time that we talk to each other— of course, unless if you don't want to."

Joshua's eyes scan your face for any sign of discomfort and seems to relax just the slightest bit when he sees none. You weren't gonna lie— you nearly passed out because holy shit is he asking to my friend that's so adorable fuck. You breathed deeply, trying to calm your racing heart (courtesy of Mr. Hong Jisoo) and Joshua patiently waited for your response, anxiousness evident in his features.

"I'd like that, Josh," you tell the male, eyes gleaming and mouth smiling. Clearly, Joshua didn't expext that to be your answer. He was taken aback at first, but that changed almost immediately. Eyes formed into small crescents and the corners of his lips turned upwards, Joshua's blooming expression nearly puts the dozens of flowers in the garden to shame.

The sun was starting to set, giving everything a beautiful, orange warmth— and making Joshua look even more breath taking than before (in your defense, you could still admire people without harboring feelings for them, duh).

"It's getting late, isn't it?" Joshua mused, eliciting a soft hum from you in response. "Shall we get going?"

You gave him a quick nod and started to head over to the garden's exit with the male trailing behind you. You took your time taking each step, admiring the numerous blooms that are present in every corner (and maybe because you wanted to stay with the male a little longer, but you'd never admit that). Distracted by the gigantic patch of sunflowers on your left, you didn't notice a rather big rock right in front of you.

In short— you tripped.

You let out a high-pitched yelp, closing your eyes and waiting for the painful impact to come— but it didn't. Rather than being pulled straight into the bumpy ground, you were somehow pulled away from it, and with a faint thud, your head landed on a smooth and hard chest.

"Y/N are— are you alright?" Joshua questions, worry evident in his tone. You opened your eyes, raising your head to see the male who was only inches away. His hands landed on your shoulders, gripping you with a firm yet gentle hold. A light flush of pink spreads on your face and you scrambled away from the male.

"I—I'm fine, Josh, thank you" you coughed out.

"Are you sure?" he asks once more, brows furrowing with concern. "Do you want to go the infirmary?"

Infirmary? You nearly choked. Memories of last times mishaps surfaced inside your mind. The nurse pretty much hates you now, and going in with the same fucking guy you were literally hiding from would end up being absolutely awkward to the point that you could literally drown yourself in the awkwardness— that's not something you'd like to experience (you've had enough, thank you very much).

"No!" you exclaimed, surprising the male a little bit so you immediately toned yourself down. "I—I mean— it's not like I'm hurt or anything and it's all thanks to you, Josh. You were there to catch me on time so I didn't end up slamming into the ground or anything."

Joshua remains silent for a while, his eyes focused on you. You could feel your blush resurfacing and you averted your eyes from the male. He let out a sigh and spoke, ruffling your hair in the process.

"If you say so."

[mwolf0epsilon]

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

[masseffecthoe]

Soul Glitches

Chapter 2

only gets better from now on

< Chapter 1

Everyone was a little on edge on the Normandy. Jun understood the situation perfectly, they were facing extinction against a force they couldn't even begin to comprehend. But there was little for them to be back on Earth and that was fact. No need to waste their lives in pointless combat when they could achieve so much more elsewhere and perhaps even save their planet. Still as she entered the Shuttle bay and saw the lieutenant fuming, her little speech seemed redundant.

"You know it's not a decision she took lightly, right?"

"You need something?" Well, rude. And there she was trying to give him a pep talk. She crossed her arms and looked at him unimpressed.

"We're landing on Mars soon. The commander wants us ready," He only gave her a nod and went to gather his armor. She opened her mouth to add more, reassure him they were going to get back to earth in no time, but she noticed he was pulling his shirt off and doubled back quickly into the shuttle to wait for the rest. Her right leg bounced with the usual rhythm of her impatience. She had hoped they'd have more time between the Collectors and the reaper attack, but all things considered, they probably quickened the process. An ever grumpy lieutenant entered the shuttle and took the seat at the controls. She eyed him cautiously, the anger still visible under his skin. She wasn't sure what approach to go, sincere and heartfelt or a wakeup-call slap to reality. She didn't get the chance to reply.

"I'm sorry I snapped. It's just… I feel useless here." He gripped the armrests tightly, desperate to keep the fury under control. Jun got up and placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder.

"Look, I get it, you wish you were down there, fighting for your planet. Believe me, Shepard would be right alongside Anderson is she didn't believe what we're doing here was more important. And besides, we'll be in some tough shit of our own before you know it, you just wait and see. You'll get your chance to shoot reapers." She patted his shoulder and crouched just a bit to grab his attention. He turned his head to face her, her eyes stopping on his scars before meeting his. "We'll get Earth back, but we can't do it alone."

He held her gaze for a moment longer and nodded. Despite the lack of words, she thought maybe she helped, even if just a little. In truth, she didn't really understand what he was feeling. Earth was never her home, just the mother planet of humans. As long as humans survived, did the planet really matter? Her chain of thought was interrupted when the shuttle door opened and Shepard and Alenko jumped in. She couldn’t help giving the major the stink eye.

"Oh great, you made it too."

"Play nice, Jun." The commander shot them both a warning look before getting back to business. "We can't reach anyone on the ground, but there are no signs of reaper activity, so best guess is the workers were evacuated. With our luck though, be prepared for anything."

James landed the shuttle and they stepped on the reddish ground of Mars. Jun was not sure if it usually looked so eerie, but she made a note to herself to never step on the planet again; the desolated expanse and weird hue gave her chills.

"Kaidan, James, with me. Jun, you know what you have to do." The lieutenant turned towards the woman, curious why she wasn't joining them. Surely it was safer if she stuck with them. A few key punches on the onmi-tool and she was gone in thin air. Her voice came from behind him, soft as to not startle him, but playful.

"Don't worry, I'll be close by to save your asses." She thought about actually smacking his ass, but decided against it. With all that armour she doubted he'd have noticed anyway.

It would have been too easy if the facility were empty and all they had to do was walk to the Archives, find Liara, grab whatever reaper killing weapon and ditch that red rock. Things were rarely easy in life; another time and time again proven fact. The first Cerberus soldiers fell like flies between the ground team's shots. Jun sad a safe distance away, cloaked and behind cover and worked her hacking magic, disabling enemy shields and frying circuits.

James was proving difficult to follow, one moment behind a barricade, the other charging towards enemy troops. She was almost caught off guard when a mech dropped besides him, guns pointed and ready. She deployed her fastest drone, momentarily paralyzing the mech and buying the marine just enough time to roll to cover and start shooting.

They dropped the remaining Cerberus and made their way inside the building, Jun letting her cloak down, annoyance written all over her face.

"Dammit, Vega!" She punched him in the arm, hurting her knuckles more than anything. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle.

"Careful, princess, you're gonna break a nail."

"Okay, next time I'll just let them shoot you."

"You break my heart when you're so mean." She had to admit she didn't mind the friendly banter, borderline flirting. She took a step closer, smile playing on her lips, but it quickly died down when she heard the commander and major arguing about Cerberus. She groaned loudly and James turned his head towards the two as well. "At it again…"

Heavy banging came from the air ducks moments late. Liara came crashing down and blasted the Cerberus soldiers after her. They never actually spoke much, but Jun knew Liara helped Shepard with the geth and stopping Saren, before her own time with the Normandy crew. She placed a hand on James' weapon and he lowered it slowly, still cautions of the asari.

Jun thought the mission will be over faster now that their little party was expanding. They knew they were after a blueprint, so she just needed access to a terminal. They'd go to the Citadel, build the damn thing and make the reapers a thing of history. Her little bubble of hope was dissolved when Shepard spoke.

"Jun, James you head back to the shuttle."

"But- you know best commander." She turned to leave, but the lieutenant was not so easily convinced.

"That's bullshit. We're coming." "I need you to cover our exit."

"Come on, James." He let go of the matter shaking his head and joining in step with Jun. Their trek to the shuttle was silent, her mind filled with a kind of uncertainty she didn't quite liked or understood until he spoke it out loud.

"Feels like we've been benched in favor of the O.G. Normandy crew."

"I wasn't benched… and if anything, I'm the original Shepard crew." She muttered the last part under her breath, half hoping he didn't catch it.

"Oh, do tell. I don't remember reading much about you in the report."

"You've read about me, lieutenant? I'm flattered."

"Fine, change the subject if you want." He took his set at the shuttle's front, his armored back twice the size of the chair. Why she found that appealing was becoming a misery even to her. She took a long breath, head resting against the cold metal. It was not like it was classified information and if he asked anyone of the crew he could find out. If he were curious enough.

"Me and Shepard, we go back to our military days. From when we first joined… We were actually bunk bed mates." He turned to look at her, chair squeaking under the strain.

"You? In the military?" She rolled her eyes and sat in the front closer to him, helmet besides her.

"Now who's being mean?" She kicked him lightly in the side of his armored thigh and crossed her hands. It was not really easy speaking about the past, but he didn't have to know that. At least not yet and not from her own mouth. "I made it all the way to Operations chief if you must know. Not quite as impressive as Commander, I suppose, but all things considered…"

"Rough start?" More like rough ending. Or was it… middle?

"Something like that."

"I can understand that." He nodded and fully spun the chair to face her. He had a serious expression on, brows drawn and lips downturned. "What made you join the military though?"

"I… don't know, there didn't seem to be a lot of options at the time. I always had a thing for tinkering and mechanics and, well, after my parents died I sort of just enlisted." "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. It was a long time ago though. Lab experiment gone wrong, whole wing exploded… In hindsight, I might have been rebelling against them for leaving me all alone in the world, and chose not to become a scientist like they were and enlisting instead. How silly of me." She looked at her hands for a moment, flexing the fingers on her left. James thought to make sure he looks for any old scars on that hand, despite being pretty sure both had pristine skin. It amazed him she had military training at all, even if she was proving quite useful in battle. "But what about you, what childhood trauma made you want to shoot aliens in outer space?"

"It's always been my dream to join the military. My uncle always encouraged me to follow that dream and here I am, babysitting you in the shuttle while Earth burns." There was no malice towards her, rather sadness.

"Was it just you and your uncle?" He pondered whether to answer or not. It was personal information he did not usually share, but Jun told her fair share of her past and he felt like he owed it.

"Got a father too, but… After mom passed, my uncle Josh was more of a father to me than he ever was."

"I see. Still must have been nice to have someone supporting you…"

"Yeah, don't know where I'd be without him." It was partially a lie, James was pretty sure he'd ended up either in prison or his father errand boy. Neither outcome was pretty.

"Your uncle still around?"

"Yeah, California."

"Oh."

"He's a tough one. I'm sure he's alright."

"You can ask EDI back on the ship if she can locate him. Or I can give it a go. I'm not the best with pistols or close quarters, but I'm a mean hack and information gatherer."

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate it."

"No problem." She smiled. A big, warm smile and to him she looked so innocent in that moment, not a bad bone in her body. He wondered for the hundred time how she ended up in Separd's mismatched crew, but at the same time grateful for her presence there.

"And thanks for earlier with the mech, I can get a bit reckless."

"That how you got those scars?" She pointed to her own lip and cheek mirroring the scars on his face. Before he could answer Shepard called for help on the comlinks.

"That's a story for another time." The shuttle came to life under his hands, just as the commander's voice became more urgent."Hold on tight, princess!"

"Could you please stop calling m-" She yelped in surprise as the shuttle zapped more than flew, her poor helmet flying and crashing somewhere in the back. It took all her strength to manage to put her seat belt on and just in time.

"Hope you're all strapped in cause it's gonna be bumpy." She barely had time to deploy a defensive drone as the shuttle hit something and Jun's world started spinning. The small drone buzzed to life with a force field around them both and she was never more grateful for it. Images flashed through her mind as bile rose to her throat: the enemy ship from years ago, her former squad, the hot pain that followed and that blasted hospital bed she thought she'd never leave. They were jolted once more, the belt holding her down by sheer miracle, as the shuttle made a hard landing. James laughed somewhere, but the room was still a whirlwind.

"We got that bastard!"

She untangles herself hasty from the belt before he could see the tears streaming down her face. She reached her helmet, letting herself crash in front of it, her entire body shacking. She thought she was over all that shit, it was supposed to be all behind, but apparently it only took one suicidal marine to relive the horror. As she reached for the helmet, right hand trembling, left one steady, she almost smirked; the past left a pretty deep cut after all.

"You-,are absolutely crazy!" She chocked on the first word, mustering all her power not to sound like a wimp.

"Ah live a little, princess." He helped her up and out of the shuttle, her legs still shaking like jelly. A smirk came to his lips as he leaned in to whisper. "I got better ways to leave you weak in the knees like this." His voice was low and he was so, so close. She was grateful for the helmet covering her face, for she was sure she was red as a tomato, both from her little panic episode and his flirty comment. Jun was no prude, but not exactly used to guys being so direct like the lieutenant was. She found she didn't quite mind it. He was probably like this all the time with everyone, like some soldiers tended to be, so she decided to play along.

"I'll take to almost dying any day, next time ask for preferences, will you?" She looked at him throw the helmet's visor, his cocky grin making her almost want to headbutt him. "But seriously, I ain't never getting in the shuttle if you're playing suicidal pilot.

Another explosion and gunshots rang close by and James let go of her and rushed towards it. She stumbled for a few more steps before jogging after him. The commander's voice rand loudly and Jun knew something was wrong. She dashed towards the fallen major, medigel and First aid ready.

Chapter 3 >

[probablypkhn]

Always Want More | Natalie Mariduena

Description: David knows that Natalie likes y/n so he plans a bit for the vlog, involving both y/n and natalie. It ends well, but not before Natalie tells him off

A/N: this is kind of a mess and my stuff is still a bit rough cause it’s been so long since I’ve written dbbxbx

————

“Sooooo, y/n, I need your help for a bit?” The second you walked into David’s house he was up in your face, waving his camera around with his big annoyingly, goofy grin on. You immediately rolled your eyes, shut the door and stalked past him.

“A-hey would have been nice,” you said, heading into the kitchen with a bag of some snacks that he asked you to bring. David cleared his throat, getting you to turn towards him. He pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows and looked down towards the floor.

“You know this is a no shoe house y/n,” he reminded you. You sighed heavily and began taking off your shoes when he stopped you again, “don’t bother, the bits going to be outside.”

He paused, lifted his watch to check the time and made a little humming sound. You stood there in his kitchen, staring at him. “And Natalie will be here soon.”

“Wait, what?” You questioned, a puzzled look crossing your face. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“If you had let me explain when you got here then you already would know right now,” David smirked and tilted his head. You crossed your arms and slouched back into the island. You held your hand out to him, gesturing for him to explain. He smiled again.

“Okay, what I had planned was that when Nat gets here we’ll get in the car with her and she’ll just think we’re heading out but then I want you to pretend to ask her out,” he stopped, then all in one breath said, “Well it’s not really pretending but... anyways this is probably the stupidest bit I’ve done for the vlog but it’ll be worth it for her reaction.”

He pointed the camera at you, waiting to see what you would say. He slowly watched as your features changed, seeing your brain comprehend what he just spilled out to you.

“Let me get this straight,” you began to ask, pushing off the island. You walked around it, stopping by the pool table. You picked up the 8 ball and held it firmly in your hand, then turned back to the muddy haired boy.

“You aren’t?” He interupted, using a joke you had used many times. Shaking your head once again, you let out an exhausted sigh.

“Yes, but that’s not relevant right now.” Tossing the ball up in the air, you watched it come back down into the palm of your hand quickly. David’s eyes followed it too. “You want me to pretend to ask her out? For the vlog?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s obvious you guys like each other...” you glared at him, “Okay maybe I made an assumption about one of you, but I know I’m still right on that assumption. So, are you in?”

You glanced down, your lips turning into a tight line while you thought. David rocked back and forth on his feet for a second, impatient as hell.

“Fine.” You agreed.

“Okay great!” David shut the camera off and left the room for the moment. You went back into the kitchen and kept to yourself until David came running back out, telling you to follow him outside to the car where Natalie and Josh stood. He yelled at them to get in the back so you guys could hop in the front.

They got in and so did you guys. David reached for the camera, turned it on and aimed it towards you, giving a little thumbs up. You eyed David and then Natalie. You didn’t actually want to do this. David was right, you liked her. But you kept that a secret from everyone, and often you weren’t someone who was easy to read.

This was a bit though, and David would say anything to get someone to do a bit, really. Even if that meant telling a lie about a pretty girl liking you. But he didn’t know how that made you feel. How could he?

Leaning into the seat of Natalie’s comfortable car seats, you took in her appearance. A jacket that seemed too big for her, jeans and a tee that you couldn’t read because the jacket was covering most of the text. She pushed aside some of her hair, her lips curving to the sides when she she saw you looking at her.

David cleared his throat. You glanced at him, then spoke, “so Natalie, I was wondering, how would you like going out with me?” You asked with more confidence then you even could have imagined having. The smile faded and was replaced with confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed, lips now curled down and eyes her dark eyes were even darker. Oh shit.

David started laughing from next to you, breaking the trance that both you and her were in. She awkwardly smiled away from you, looking to Josh as if to ask him what was happening. You couldn’t take this much longer. For her or for you.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, your chest aching at the words that came stumbling out of your mouth next, “this was all just because David said you apparently liked me, so he thought it would be a good idea to ask you out.”

Turning away, you stared ahead at David’s house, not knowning what to say or do. But the silence radiating from the back made you glance back. Natalie was staring at David, her mouth open, eyes small. The look of hurt that covered her face was evident, “David,” that single word, his name, came out so weak and you noticed her face beginning to get red, her eyes getting watery and her breathing was off now. Josh and you turned to him. It seemed like time had stopped, stopped for you guys. This was one moment you wish hadn’t. You just wanted to escape, to help Natalie escape.

Natalie wiped her nose with her arm before getting out of the car and with a quick pace walked into David’s house. He ran after her, yelling her name, telling her it was a joke. Saying he didn’t mean it. Josh got out and you just sat in the front for a moment. What the fuck just happened?

You then got out, chased both of them back into the house. The air felt stale and warm, and an uncertain feeling filled you when you heard the yelling. Natalie wasn’t one for yelling, for being a loud person and being really seen in a group. But she had one hell of a voice.

Following the yelling—and the helpless David trying to defend himself but his voice was being way overpowered by one angry Natalie—you ended up in the podcast room, standing at the door watching the two stand under the bright purple ‘clickbait’ sign while she dug into him with her words. Her face was now a even darker red and she had tears streaming down her face, her hair was a little all over the place and she was shaking. Never had you seen her so mad.

“Why did you think that was a good idea?! Seriously?! Why?! Do you not even care about your friends anymore David? Is the vlog really so much more important than our fucking friendship, you piece of-“ she was pointing at David, voice full of venom as she began to spill, throwing names at him. You couldn’t watch this. Their 12 years of friendship couldn’t be over because of a stupid bit he thought was funny. And she needed to know.

You stepped in front of David when you saw Natalie getting dangerously close to the boy. You thought maybe when she saw you her face would change, she’d stop shaking and back away. But this wasn’t like those romantic movies that end well for everyone. This was reality.

“I’m not gonna let you ruin your friendship with him over this, okay. David didn’t think it through,” you glanced back to him, to make sure he was still good. He gulped and nodded to you, his eyes told you he was thankful, “like everything else he does. This isn’t new to you Nat, especially to you. You guys have known each other since before high school. Don’t throw that away by making a dumb decision because you’re angry now. Everything is fine.”

Natalie sniffled, stepped back and hid her face in her hands, trying to hide how she looked from you. She realized what she was doing, what she said and did in front of you. She did like you, she wouldn’t lie to herself like that, but she never would have acted on how she felt, or told you.

“I didn’t know how serious you were about it Natalie...about liking...y/n,” David added caustiously, standing behind you but making sure she could see him too. Natalie glared at him, eyes dark and swollen from all the tears.

“H-how could you not think I was serious?” She hiccuped. Your eyes examined her carefully now. She looked small in the state she was, with her shoulders slumped and hair covering half of her face. She pushed it to the side, wiping her face again.

“I don’t know...the group says things sometimes...as a joke. Things like that too, so I didn’t know how true it was. I never thought about if you meant it, and that I told her about it.” David explained.

“See? That’s pretty reasonable, even for a dick move,” you reasoned with David, just trying to get Natalie back to a somewhat decent form of herself again. You stepped closer to the small brunette, you placed your hand on the small of her back, rubbing little circles in an attempt to calm her down. It seemed to be working as her breathing became more even and she was no longing crying.

“And besides, I hated the bit too. The whole pretending to ask you out. Wish I didn’t have to pretend,” you admitted, your tone soft and genuine. Her eyes met yours and there was a new light to them. You saw her lip quivering a tiny bit, her nose twitched and her shaking had completely stopped.

“I fuckig knew it!” David laughed, a wide smile on his face from behind the two of you. He kept giggling to himself, dancing around a little.

“Not the time David,” you reminded him, chuckling to yourself. Turning to him, he cleared his throat.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ll leave you two alone. Sorry again, Natalie.” He left the room, leaving the two of you to finally be alone. You now both knew you liked each other. The secret both of you had tried keeping for so long, not wanting to ruin your friendship between each other.

“You actually like me?” Natalie didn’t hesitate, just jumped right in to what was said. You liked her, and now she knew for sure. She spent months with the thought lingering in her brain, not knowing what to do with it. But here she was, with your hands on her sides and faces inches away from each other.

“Yes. I do. How couldn’t I? You gave me every reason to fall for you. From your sassy yet sweet attitude and personality to the way you dress and make it so I can’t keep my eyes off you...everything about you Natalie...it makes me want you more,” explaining, you brought her over to the couch where you took a sweat across from each other. You held her hands in your lap, running your thumb across the front of her hand. They were soft.

Natalie laughed a little, peering down to her lap. She bit her lip and looked back up. With her body facing towards you, you reached your hand up, tucking her short brown hair behind her ear. Quickly you stuck your hand in your pocket. “That felt wrong...and cliche. And I hate cliche.”

Natalie and you laughed together, it fading after a few moments. It was silent. Not awkward silence, but it left you two to think. “Can I miss you?” You asked suddenly.

Natalie’s lips parted, her breathing picked up and you saw her gulp. She slowly nodded, leaning in closer to you while your hand went to the back of her neck. Your lips connected, your hand tangled in her hair while she pushed herself into your lap.

You could feel her arms sneaking around your neck while you kissed her harder, teeth clanking against each other in the midst of it. She smelt like strawberries and tasted like...candy? Smiling into her lips, you pulled back a touch to let her take over. Moaning, Natalie moved away, breathing heavily. Her pupils were blown out and her hair was now a mess.

“Okay, so that was a little more than a kiss...but I still enjoyed it,” you panted, smirking at the girl above you. She smiled, leaned in and kissed you again, not as long but enough to make you satisfied, and leave you wanting more. More of the kiss...more of her. You’d always want more of her. Always.

[aestheticvoyage2018]

Day 286: Saturday October 13, 2018 - “Horsehead”

A reward for all my work - a day to run through the mountains of New Hampshire in October.   Rubbed my eyes awake from that WalMart parking lot in Littleton, NH - passions ahead of comfort.  Got some Dunkin, and my Jeep into Drive.  It was 9am.  I had a 330 flight out of Manchester.   Lets go rake some leaves.  Unlike yesterday, I had my route all planned out, to a T.  The only thing I didnt know is what it would all look like and where that great shot would come - but I would be out chasing it, and that thought alone made me happy.  Pulled my clothes out of the windows, and set out.  My itinerant heroes would be proud.  An aesthetic voyager, whose home is the road.  I challenged my self to find the good stuff.  Running some new track.

I followed out of Littleton to Bethlehem, good tunes on, windows down, despite the 40 degree air.  I Wish I had the time to go find Polly’s Pancake Parlor, that my friends at the Concord Brewery told me was a must earlier in the week - I could tell from the way that they talked about it that this was not a casual unsolicited recommendation but that they were reliving it as they told me about it and it made me want to know it too - but the clock wasnt on my side today. I knew it was close - and it was hard to pull away with out it.  Instead, I got into the Crawford Notch, and the colors really popped.  Red, Orange, Hot Pink...still some green mixed in.  Pines up high. I pulled off on what looked like a snowmobile path-head and walked for awhile and got down by the river and watched the leaves run down the small falls in the rocks there being sure not to get my socks wet this early in the day, especially since theyd been on since yesterday morning! I read something about how there were 18 different variety of trees coloring here.   A river running down on one side.  Train Tracks too, where the old railroad used to run up out of Conway.  I knew where the lakes and ponds and waterfalls would be on the map.  I came to my first one, the Silver Cascades.  The crowds let me know Id made it.  I considered climbing up in there for a more perfect shot, but didnt want to ruin it for my more casual compadres gathered there from all over the country and world and moved on for more remote spots... to which Id find a short throw down the road where the AT crossed the road.  I parked and got out on it - such reverence for those white blazes....and those big rocks.  Somehow being framed in yellow and orange makes it even more spectacular.  One blazed up tree posed majestically for me, and I thanked it, vowing to be back some day with a pack and some poles....I suppose its enough to dream, at least.  I strolled out of there and back to the car thinking about the nostalgic feeling triggered by the sound of rustling leaves...and how if someone didnt have the luxury of growing up in the north, they wouldnt understand in that same way, in the same way I knew that AC would never fully understand my need to get out and see autumn pop with enthusiasm like Im collecting up all the leaves to keep in mind year after year like Emerson and Thoreau did.  Theres something here, thats the very basic lowest common denominator in being an aesthetic voyager;  Fall Leaves, Glaciers, Alpine Glow, Sandstone Canyons, and Baseball Fields.  Ive done this post a day now for almost 3,000 days.....if one of those things is involved, theres a more special feeling in my yoga.

I carried on down the road deeper into the mountains where I toyed with some road shots, fully aware that I could stop around every bend with my eye trained for those most perfect fleeting shots if only I could brake in time.  So I decided to just let those all pass, frustrated by the inability to fully capture it.  Until I came to a spot called Fourth Iron, a bridge over a stream framed by reds and yellows.  Well, now, that looks interesting enough.  So I pulled off and explored those tracks for a bit listening to Josh Garrels - Train Song in my headphones and ignoring the ‘tourists’ that had followed me. I strolled onto the bridge, stepping carefully from beam to beam, admiring the old iron work from a different time and different age.  I realized this would be where I got my best shot of the day and stayed with it until I felt I did - the last shot I took there - looking back down the track over the bridge.  A Top Ten for 2018 for sure. “when i die lord, I want you to put my soul on a train. Send it southbound and give a cool blues man’s name because Ive been lost on these back roads so many times Ive gone blind.”  It was a soulful spot up there somewhere in the middle of those White Mountains, exactly what Id come here for.  To feel a bit like a desperado again and to stop and take the pictures.

Followed that road on down and out and into the crowds of Conway.  Found a vista that looked back on the mountains and notches of which I just navigated for the past several hours.  Got service back and checked the ETA back into Manchester for that 330 flight.   It said Id arrive promptly at 3p.  Not a second to waste.  And so, I began that saunter back through those New England blue-orange 2 lane county highways.  Through towns like Tamworth, Sandwich, and the lakeside upscale town of Meredith on the north shore of long Lake Winnipesaukee.  Then it was Laconia, and onto the sprint on I93 for the final run.  Id make up four minutes to give me the time I needed to stop and fill the rental with gas, and itd turned suddenly into a mad dash, wondering if I could pull it off, again.   I dropped the rental at 2:59, ran in, got my security doc, and pushed through security and to my gate..... 1 minute to spare.  Cleared. Boarded and On.  

I looked around at the faces on board with me.  I wondered if anyone of them were still wearing yesterdays clothes, because they loved doing something that much and literally had no time for anything else.  I wondered if any of them had worked so hard to milk every minute out of this day as they could.  I wondered briefly if this made me crazy - and thought about that Buddy Wakefield poem where he talked about dying of heart success....Today I did my part, as much as I could.  Squeezed it in, at the end of a lucky work trip, at the end of a break-neck 2 month streak. We flew up and out of New Hampshire - an hour ago I was barely even on the freeway...it was a finish line crossing.  Finally done.  Checked the last box - UNE trip.  I reflected on it all - the flights to ZSA and AUS....to Aspen, and back to Michigan.  I thought about some hurts, and some joys.  I packed too much into these last couple of chapters, just trying to get it right and get it done.  Im strained. And somewhere out over Lake Eerie, I thought about that old iron bridge with train tracks.  Weathered and solid - engineered.  I thought about that tree with the white blaze - guiding the way, like a guardian of all that stands for.  And I bucked up.  Suddenly ready for the next season, instead.  I spent the rest of that long travel back to Arizona day dreaming about what could be next, grateful that all the leaves Id gathered were  light enough to carry back with me as I go.

Song: Chase Rice - Three Chords and The Truth

Quote:  

“GATHERING LEAVES

Spades take up leaves

No better than spoons,

And bags full of leaves

Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise

Of rustling all day

Like rabbit and deer

Running away.

But the mountains I raise

Elude my embrace,

Flowing over my arms

And into my face.

I may load and unload

Again and again

Till I fill the whole shed,

And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight,

And since they grew duller

From contact with earth,

Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.

But a crop is a crop,

And who's to say where

The harvest shall stop?” 

― Robert Frost

[seuzz]

Story: “The Haunting of Boudin Manor”

Something is wrong in Bobby’s house.

PART I

Bobby was standing at the head of the stairs when his mother came out of her bedroom.

"Mom," he said, "can we move my bedroom furniture?"

Mrs. Allen gave him a curious look, then went to look into his bedroom. The morning sun shone brightly into it through the clear window. "What's wrong with where your things are now?" she asked her son.

Bobby shrugged. "I just want to move things." He pointed. "Move my desk there. And the bookshelf there. And the—"

"But then where would we put your bed?"

Bobby pointed to the wall under the window.

"Oh, sweetheart! We can't put it there! What if you had the window open on a hot night, and you got out of bed on the wrong side? You'd fall out and—"

She smiled tightly at him. "I think we should leave things right where they are."

Bobby sat on the bed after she had gone, with his knees tucked up under his chin. He screwed his eyes up and stared at the room.

What's wrong with where your things are now? his mother had asked.

He didn't know the answer to that question. He only knew that they were wrong, and that they wouldn't be right until they were moved to the places he wanted to move them to. Sitting in his room, looking at it now ... It felt awkward, as awkward as if he had put his shirt and pants on backward, and put his shoes on the wrong feet. It was like the room was all twisted up inside.

Even the wallpaper was wrong. It hadn't been wrong when his mother put it up. It was a soothing silver color, with narrow lines of blue running up and down, and it was nicer than the wallpaper that was hanging up when they moved in. Even Bobby had thought the old wallpaper was ugly: splotches of red and green and yellow, like flower petals blowing in the wind. But now, when he shut his eyes, he saw that old wallpaper.

He also saw his furniture where he wanted to move it. Until it gets moved, he thought, it will be all wrong.

"What did you do today, kiddo?" his father asked him at supper. It was meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

"Played outside," Bobby said.

It was early June. The sun was warm but it wasn't hot yet, so he had wandered through the grassy fields behind the house, and hopped from one wet, black rock to the next along the trickling creek. It was a new experience for Bobby, who until a few months ago had lived in an apartment building in a crowded city. Now he lived in the country, where the nearest house was half a mile away, and where the unfenced backyard opened onto the gentle slopes of wooded hills.

"Didn't you play any of your new video game?" his dad asked.

"Bobby's getting lots of fresh air and sunshine and exercise," his mother put in. "He's going to be brown as nut by the end of summer."

"Can we go fishing this weekend?" Bobby asked his dad. "There's a big pond up that way." He pointed. "And it's got—"

He broke off and frowned. "I think it's got fish in it," he said.

"I don't have a fishing rod," his dad said. "And I've never fished before. But," he added with a smile, "maybe we can go shopping for a pole this weekend."

"How did you find the pond?" his mother asked Bobby. "It must be very far away."

"Not too far," Bobby said. "I just followed the creek and—"

"You need to be careful," she warned him. "You could get lost. Or hurt. You are carrying your phone with you when you go out playing, aren't you?"

"Yes," Bobby sighed.

But that wasn't quite true. He used to take it with him all the time when he went out. But now he didn't take with him so much. It felt funny in his pocket.

It felt wrong there.

His breath scraped in his throat as he stood at the top of the basement stairs. His heart beat in his chest, and he gripped the edge of the door frame.

It's okay to stand on the top step, he thought. It can't get you on the top step. It can't get you when you're standing on the bottom step either. But it can get you on the steps in between.

"Bobby, are you getting the chicken out?" his mother called from the kitchen.

He swallowed, took a deep breath, and ran down the steps as fast as he could.

The basement was chilly and dark. There was only a single bulb for light, but it hung from the ceiling on a chain, and he couldn't reach it to turn it on. So the only light was what spilled through the doorway and down the stairs. Everything else was plunged in deep shadows.

That included the cabinets along the wall.

Usually it lurked under the stairs, where it could reach out between the steps and grab his ankles, but sometimes it was inside the cabinets, and he went in dread of the creak of a door opening. Wouldn't it be terrible to look over and see long fingers—fingers gnarled and black and missing their nails—curling around a cabinet door from inside the cabinet.

His own hands fumbled at the catch of the old freezer, and when he lifted the lid he was struck in the face by air like cold, dry breath. He felt inside for the chicken. Only as his hands closed around the icy package did he think, It could be inside the freezer too. It could grab me and drag me inside and close the lid on me.

"Bobby," his mother reproved him when, with a pale face and staring eyes, he staggered out of the basement door into the pantry. "Why didn't you turn on the light down there?"

He stared at her. She touched the wall by the door and flicked the switch his father had installed only a few days after they moved into the house.

Bobby spent a long time studying his face in the bathroom mirror after brushing his teeth. His brown freckles were fading against the darkening tan of his face, and his hair was getting golden highlights from the sun. His two front teeth had finished coming in, and one of his eyeteeth was starting to waggle.

He paused in the hallway after shutting off the bathroom light. His parents' bedroom door was open, and he could hear them talking. Usually they would be laughing and chatting while getting ready for bed. But tonight his mother's voice sounded tight and worried. It took Bobby a moment to realize they were talking about him.

"They say it's children that are best at seeing them. Children and animals," she said.

"Who's 'they'?" his father asked. He sounded scornful.

"I don't know who the experts are supposed to be," his mother sighed. "It's just something I've read. Anyway, I can't help noticing that it's like—"

"You think he's seeing things?"

"No, not like that. Only—" There was a rustle of bedclothes. "He's taken to creeping around the house. He looks inside of rooms before goes into them. His head pops up every time he hears a noise."

"It's a quiet house."

"But this creeping around—"

"Don't call it 'creeping', Marcia. You make it sound creepy."

"Well, he tiptoes around, like he's sneaking up on something. Or away from something. Not all the time," she added. "He'll be fine, and then it's like he remembers to be careful."

"It sounds like he's stalking prey. He's six years old, he's playing."

"Not with an imaginary playmate, I hope." His mother sounded unhappy.

"I used to do the same thing at my grandmother's house when I was his age," his father said. "And he's probably bored. He's bound to be missing his friends back in Chicago."

"So—"

"How about you call the local school, get the names of some of the kids in the town he'll be going to school with in the fall. Set up some playdates for him."

His mother sounded doubtful when she said, "But what if some of those children know about the house? What if they tell him about the—?"

She didn't look into the hallway, so she didn't see Bobby standing there. But that's the moment she shut the bedroom door, plunging him and the hallway into darkness.

PART II

"Nice cast!" Josh called to Bobby. "You said you didn't know how to fish!"

"Maybe it's beginner's luck," Josh's sister, Joceyln, said. She reeled in her own line. "I'm going to move down to where that log is."

It was a Monday afternoon, and the weather was finally getting hotter. Midges were dancing over the pond—which was so big it was almost like a small lake—as the three children fished. A family of turtles had slid into the water when they crested the rise leading down to the water. This was their second fishing trip together.

Bobby's mom had set it up with Mrs. Jorgensen, Josh and Jocelyn's mother. Bobby had come downstairs for breakfast on Saturday, and was told that a boy his age would be coming over to play a little later. Josh turned out to be a chubby kid with big freckles and thick, red hair that stuck out all over. He had a big, friendly grin, and it didn't take long for Bobby, who felt a little shy at first, to warm up to him. Josh had brought a fishing pole with him, and Bobby's father went with them up into the little valley where Bobby had found the big pond. There, Josh had taught Bobby the basics of fishing.

Now it was two days later. Bobby's father was at work, so Jocelyn, who was eleven, had come out with her little brother to act as a kind of babysitter. They brought three poles with them this time, so they could all fish at once. They had even brought a picnic basket that Bobby's mom packed for them.

"There's no fish down there," Bobby called to Jocelyn as she turned to walk off to the new spot.

"How do you know?" she asked.

Bobby just blinked. "I guess I don't," he stammered. "I just— I'm just sure there aren't."

"Hmph," Jocelyn said, and continued on to the new spot. Josh grinned at Bobby. "That's the way to tell her," he giggled.

Whatever the reason, Jocelyn didn't have any luck at her new spot, and she was in a cross mood when she came back a little later. Bobby and Josh, meanwhile, had moved to a shady spot under a tree that bent like an old man over the edge of the pond. Bobby had picked it out. He just had a feeling there would be some fish there, and there were, and he and Josh caught three fish between them, which they unhooked and threw back. "You must be a natural at this," Jocelyn told Bobby as she peered at him through narrowed eyes.

Bobby felt drawn to the tree for some reason, and after a little while he put down the pole and climbed into it. "You'll fall!" Jocelyn warned him as he clambered out onto a thick branch that stuck out over the water.

"I don't think I will," he called back. He balanced on the limb, and there came over him an urge to rock up and down on it, like he was galloping on the back of a horse. "Stop that, you'll break it!" Jocelyn called.

And before Bobby could call back that he wouldn't, with a creak and a snap the limb broke beneath him, and he fell with a hard splash into the water. Bobby heard Jocelyn scream, and saw the brown surface of the pond rushing up at him. Then his eyes and ears were full of water.

Something was pushing him down, holding him under the surface. Bobby coughed, and felt water rushing into his lungs.

After that, there was a change. Josh and Jocelyn didn't come out to Bobby's house anymore. Instead, his mom drove him to their house. They lived in a leafy street crowded with other houses, and a backyard with a high fence. Some of Josh's other friends would come over, and after he got to know them, Bobby's mom would take him over to Mike's or Justin's house instead.

But Bobby felt restless at their houses, even though there were Nintendo games to play and basketball hoops to shoot through, and a couple of times they even walked down to the school to play on the P. E. fields in back. He missed his house and the fields and woods. "I'm going to have you all out to my house for my birthday party in August," he told the other kids, "so you can see it."

"No way I'm going to your house," said his new friend Mike. Bobby had been wary of Mike at first, because he was a husky kid who could wrestle any of the other boys to the ground. But he turned out to be as friendly as a big dog, so it hurt Bobby's feelings when Mike said this. "I'm not scared of ghosts," Mike said, "but, like, why take chances? You know?" He grinned at the other kids.

Justin, who was the tallest kid of the group, but skinny, shoved Mike. "Don't say that!" But to Bobby he said, "You don't have a ghost at your house, do you?"

"Sure he does!" Mike said. "That's the house where that kid died."

"What kid?" Josh asked.

"Ask your sister, he was in her class," Mike said. "He jumped out a window and broke his head open!"

"Did that happen at your house?" Justin asked Bobby.

Bobby felt cold. "I—"

"There's a ghost kid at your house?" Josh's eyes were big and round as he stared at Bobby.

"No, that's not the ghost," Mike said. He turned to Bobby. "You live in the Boudin house, right?" Bobby frowned and shook his head. "It has a burnt-out barn behind it?"

Bobby thought a moment. "There was an old, burned up barn there when we came out to look at it," he said. "But my dad made them tear it down. It was gone when we moved in."

"Oooh!" Mike's eyes gleamed. "I bet that made the ghost really mad! Because that's where he burned up!"

A few days later, Bobby got a text from Josh. There was a picture with it. It made Bobby feel ill just to look at it.

It showed a boy about Bobby's age. He had straight brown hair and wore a tan jacket and blue jeans. He was sitting on a bed, looking at the camera. There was a faint smile on his face.

Bobby didn't recognize the face, but he recognized the bedroom. It was his. It had the wallpaper they had torn off when he and his family moved in—red and yellow and green splotches, like leaves flying in a wind. He saw the corner of a desk, sitting where his own bed now was, and a bookshelf in just the spot where he told his mother he wanted to move his. In the picture, the boy's bed was sitting under the window, which was open.

The boy, if he wanted to or if he just got confused, could jump off the bed and go right out the window, and splat on the ground below.

That's what had happened to him. His parents had got up one morning, and found him lying on the ground beneath his open window.

Bobby crept up the stairs and looked in through his bedroom door.

It's all wrong, he thought, and he wanted to cry as he thought it. The desk should be over there, like it is in the picture. And the bookshelf would be over there. It's the wrong wallpaper! And the bed should be next to the window!

What did his mother say, when he asked to move his bed there? You'll get out of bed and go out the window. Just like this boy did.

The picture came from Jocelyn, who didn't know the boy, but had been in the same grade as him. Bobby texted her on her phone. He asked her if it was summer—a hot night when the window might be open—that the boy had fallen out of it.

But he felt already knew the answer, even before he sent the question. In her reply, Jocelyn told him it had happened in the middle of January. There was three inches of snow on the ground where he fell.

Bobby walked into his bedroom. He stood in front of the window and looked back at the door. From where he was standing—where the bed used to be—he could see straight out the door to the head of the stairs.

If something had come limping up those stairs—something with long, black, gnarled fingers, wrapping around the banister as it pulled itself up—he would have been able to see it from the bed.

Bobby closed his eyes and covered his face.

That's what he saw, Bobby thought with a shudder. Because I can see it when I stand here.

The boy didn't fall. He had opened the window and jumped out.

Because that was the only way to escape when it finally found the stairs, and crawled up them to get him.

PART III

There's nothing on the other side, he told himself as he stared at his bedroom door. Just the hallway. And there's nothing in the hallway.

It was dark, and he was laying in his bed, wide awake, staring at his bedroom door. It was shut and locked. If the knob rattled, he wondered, could I see it from here? Would I hear it?

He wanted to turn over and put his face to the wall, and to pull the covers up over his head. If I am very quiet and very still, he told himself, it won't be able to find me.

But he knew that wasn't true, and it made him wretched. His eyes watered as he stared at the door, watching for any sign that the knob was wobbling and starting to turn, listening for the creak of wood as something black and hunched and falling to bits limped up the stairs. He held his breath as we waited for it to lean against the door, pushing it, trying to get it open.

Maybe if I stare at  it hard enough, he thought, that will make it go away. It will feel me staring at the door, and it will drop down onto all fours, and crawl back down the stairs and back into the basement. I'll stare really, really hard, and it will know how much I hate it and want it to go away, and then it will.

Then a terrible thought came to him. What if I'm looking in the wrong direction?

The sickness rose in him, in the back of his throat, as he thought of the window behind him, above his bed. What if I turn over and look? he thought. I'm on the second floor. But what if I turn over and look up at the window, and I see—?

He shut his eyes and tried to swallow the sickness in his chest. He felt his neck and shoulders creak as he turned over onto his back. The bed shook a little, and the sheets wound tightly around him. Just look, he said. There's nothing there, and you'll see there's nothing there. You're on the second floor. It can't even get up the stairs. How could it get outside your window?

He opened his eyes and looked.

Fingers like blackened sticks were pressed against the glass panes directly over his head. Of the face he only saw three long, white teeth jutting from a twisted jaw.

He screamed. It felt like he was throwing up.

It was just a nightmare, but it woke his parents up, and they came tumbling into his bedroom. Bobby's dad moved into his bed for the rest of the night, and he slept with his mom.

Bobby should have known it was a nightmare while it was happening. His bed had been in the wrong place, for a start. Where his bed was now, he couldn't even see the doorknob because it was hidden behind the corner of his dresser. And the window was on the other side of the room.

"Someone looks like they need some French toast," his mother said the next morning as she looked at him over the breakfast table. She made some for him, along with some bacon. Then she called around to see about setting up a playdate for him. "I'll take you over to Josh's in an hour," she said. "Go get cleaned up. Spit-spot."

After brushing his teeth and combing his hair, Bobby went out onto the back porch to wait, then wandered farther out into the fields. The grass was getting very long by now, and the bees were busy with the wildflowers. Without meaning to, he wound up at the creek, which he followed up to the pond.

It was a still, hot day, and dragonflies were whizzing over the surface. A little ways down the shore, the branch he had broken was still wedged in the muddy lakeshore. Bobby walked down to it, then on an impulse climbed out to sit on it. He looked down, past his hanging feet, at his own dim reflection in the pond surface. His hair, when it got too long, started to curl, but he had had a haircut, and now it was straight. In the reflection, in the muddy water, it looked brown, not blonde.

"I'm sorry," he said to his reflection, as though it were another boy. "I broke your rocking branch. I didn't mean to. And I think it scared the fish off from here," he added. "I don't know if they'll come back here, like they used to."

His reflection stared back gravely at him.

"I'm sorry I took your bedroom," Bobby went on. "I wish I could put it back to the way it was. I wish it could all go back to the way it was for you. I know you're scared, but I think you're just confused. If I helped you be less confused—"

Bobby bit his lip.

"I think it's confused too," he said. "I don't think it can get out of the basement anymore. As long as you—"

He twisted back and forth on the branch.

"I don't mind sharing!" he shouted. "I want to share! You can stay in my room, stay upstairs with me! I don't think it can get you up there, you'll be safe with me. It took forever for it to—"

Bobby felt dizzy. He closed his eyes and grabbed the branch to keep from falling. Slowly, he crawled back down the branch to the shore. He was shaking hard as he ran to the house.

It took forever for it to find a way up the stairs, he had heard his reflection say. The voice had spoken as clearly as he had been speaking. But it found a way. Then it found a way down the hall to my bedroom.

One night it will find a way to your bedroom, too.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Jocelyn told Bobby. "It will give you nightmares."

I'm already having nightmare, Bobby wanted to say. Out loud, he just said, "No, it won't!"

They were in the Jorgensen's back yard. Bobby had and Josh had finished playing on the Splash-and-Slide, and now they were sloshing around in the wading pool with plastic cups of Kool-Aid. Jocelyn wasn't playing with them, but she was sitting on a lounge chair, in a swimsuit and sunglasses, giving herself a tan like she was a teenager.

It had taken Bobby that long to work up the courage to ask Jocelyn to tell him about the house he was living in.

"Well," she started to say. She peered over at Bobby. He was doing his best to look happy, even though he was dreadfully nervous.

"Well, to start with, everyone calls your house the Boudin house because that was the name of the family who lived there. It's like more than a hundred years old. Anyway, finally there was only one Boudin left, and he got caught in a fire out in his barn and burned all up. This was, like, fifty years ago?" Jocelyn squinted with thought.

"But, after that there started to be stories about it, that it was haunted. I asked my aunt to tell me about it after I sent you that picture. She wouldn't really tell me anything, she just said that people never lived there long. They would buy your house and then they'd sell it after a year or so."

"So the guy who burned up, did he turn into a ghost?" Josh asked.

"There's not a ghost!" his sister snapped at him. "It's just an old house out in the middle of nowhere, and a guy died in a fire, so people tell stories about it. They go out at Halloween and stare at it and tell stories about it."

"What about Christopher's family?" Bobby asked. That was the name of the boy who fell out the window.

"They moved away after it happened. My aunt says she thinks they're the last family that lived there before your parents bought it." She picked up her bottle of sunscreen and squirted some into her hands.

"Cool!" Josh said. He splashed Bobby. "Invite me to a sleepover some night!"

Bobby's mom was waiting for him in the living room when he got home. She looked very stern.

"Mike's mom called me while you were over at Josh's," she said. "Have the other kids been telling you stories about our house?"

Bobby hung his head, then nodded.

"What have they been telling you?"

Bobby said, "The boy who used to live here fell out a window."

His mom sighed. "Our house is not haunted," she said.

"I'm not afraid of Christopher," Bobby said.

His mother looked at him closely. "Who told you his name?" When Bobby didn't answer, she said, "Bobby, our house is not haunted."

"I'm not scared of Christopher," Bobby repeated.

His mother gave him another long look. "Go wash up for dinner," she said.

It was dark in Bobby's bedroom when he bolted upright in bed. A patch of moonlight was splashed across the floor. He groped for his phone, which he kept screen-side down on his nightstand. When he touched the screen, it said 2:23 AM.

His heart was beating hard. It's in the pantry! he thought. It found its way out of the basement and it's in the pantry!

His bed was where it should be, and when he looked around the corner of his dresser he saw that the bedroom doorknob was locked. He got out of bed and ran to the window. A round white moon stared blindly down at the dark fields behind the house. He opened the window and put his head out into the sultry night air to listen.

Something was wrong, he felt. Then: No frogs! he thought. No crickets! They're not singing!

He closed the window and turned to the door.

"I'm not Christopher," he murmured to himself. "I'm Bobby!" He flexed his fingers, as though feeling for a hand in the dark.

"It's okay," he told the boy whose hand he was feeling for. "It's okay he's in the pantry. That's all the way downstairs. You can stay up here with me. This is your room too."

Fear beat against his chest. It was like in his nightmare—he felt like he was going to throw up.

"Don't be scared!" he said through gritted teeth. "It can't get you! How can it get you? You're not like me! You're—!"

He stopped suddenly, almost like he had tripped over the word before he could say it. His chest got very cold.

That's why it can get me, he thoughts. It couldn't get me before. But it can get me now. It can see me now. It can grab me now. It can eat me now!

"You mean it couldn't before?" Bobby whispered. His head shook back and forth. It can eat me now! he thought. It wants to eat me!

Hot tears rolled down Bobby's cheeks and fell with a plop to the bare, wooden floor.

He wanted to run away. He wanted to push open the window and hop to the ground and scamper across the fields to the pond where he loved to fish and to play, back in the days before the first time he saw it—the black thing crawling feebly through the grass on all fours, smelling like smoke.

He wanted to run away but he didn't. He was shaking hard all over, but he went to his door, and opened it.

It was dark in the hall, but it was darker down the stairs. It was like stepping down into a pool of cold, black water as Bobby walked, footfall by footfall, down the staircase. In a spasm of fear he glanced back upstairs, to where a smear of light shone on a wall. But he saw nothing.

"It's just me," he told himself. He had never felt so alone.

"I can turn on the lights," he whispered to himself. "It doesn't like the light. That will make it go away." But he knew that lights would only make it hide, and it come back again in the night. It had found its way out of the basement again, and each night it would find its way closer to the stairs, and to the bedrooms on the second floor.

At the bottom of the stairs he paused and looked down the hall leading to the kitchen. It was blank as a pit, for there were no windows, only a swinging door at the end, between the hall and the kitchen. Which side of that door was it on? Bobby put his hands out, like a blind man, and slid his bare feet across the cool wooden floors as he shuffled toward the kitchen.

He smelled smoke as he stepped into the hallway.

"You can't see me." He said the words inside his mouth, so it couldn't hear him. (Could it hear?) Moving one foot at a time he slid down the hall with his hands out. The smell of smoke grew stronger. It stank of charred wood, but of something else too. Like burned meat, he thought. And other burned things. He threw up a little in the back of his mouth.

His waggling fingers touched something in the dark. It felt like fabric, but it crumbled to the touch, and he heard a deep sigh, like the growl a dog makes when it's dreaming.

Bobby dropped his hands to his side.

"We don't want you here," he said in a trembling voice, and he said it loudly enough that he heard his own voice. "Go away. You don't belong here. This isn't your house anymore."

It snuffled, and Bobby felt something brush across his face.

"Go away," he said more loudly. "Go away. We're not scared of you. You can't hurt us and we're not scared of you."

The smell of smoke got very strong.

"Go away!" Bobby yelled. "You're bad! You're wrong! You're in the wrong place! You don't belong here! You're wrong for it!"

He heard footfalls and thumps upstairs.  But he was angry now, not scared, and he didn't care.

"Go away! We hate you! You're wrong here! It's all wrong here for you! Go away! Go away! Go away!"

Lights came on, and Bobby shrieked.

Bobby was listening with only half an ear as his mother and the doctor talked. He was too busy playing on his phone. Josh had beat his high score, and he was bound and determined to win back his championship position.

"Night terrors aren't uncommon at his age," the doctor was saying. "And I'm sure you remember sleeping with the covers over your head when you were his age."

"I didn't sleepwalk," Bobby's mother said.

"Not that you remember. How many incidents have there been?"

"Just the one, when we found him downstairs in front of the kitchen door."

"Are you sure he wasn't looking for a midnight snack?"

"Doctor," Bobby's mother said in a severe tone.

"You also said that was three weeks ago. Have there been any other nightmares?"

"None that he admits to." She was quiet for a moment. "The neighborhood children were telling him stories about our house. But he says now it doesn't bother him. Actually, that's something else that worries me. He's been telling the other kids that—" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Well, that he and the boy are friends."

They talked a little more, ending with the doctor saying, "It's perfectly normal to have an imaginary friend at that age." Then the doctor asked Bobby some questions. Bobby was very cheerful as he answered them, and he only looked a little puzzled when the doctor asked if ever worried about monsters under the bed. "But that's where I keep my train set!" he said.

They drove home, and Bobby's mother walked with him to the top of the stairs. She looked into his room, and seemed to remember something. "Do you still want to move your furniture around?" she asked.

"No, I like it where it is," Bobby said. "I like where everything is." Then he said, "Can Josh sleep over tomorrow night? He says he's never slept in a haunted house."

She frowned at him. "Our house isn't haunted, sweetie."

Bobby laughed. "I told him that! But he wants to see for himself."

[breakingmllc]

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I am a Skeleton We're Gonna Sit Here And Drink Beer Until We Understand Women T Shirt big fan of Rashida Jonesand whatever she wants to pursue I think that 95 is one of those movies you hear is debate about all the time on the shelf what 80s movies what movies of all time should be rebooted what should never be touched 95 is a great comedyand I think it is so right to be remade for another generation for application by the why the original story is original stories are so special she so we went to just do not hearing society what better example of something to worry is complementary to the original members were Darren came in your face when now actually was okay with me because my schedule in the rain the original most of the original mistake as he served a purpose in this movie a fair purpose where to start drawing or we really need new characters Barringer just wink winkand I want to be like if another is because I can award show was but all three of them reunited I think for for some sort of award to a standing ovationand celebrating the three women that were 9 to 5and it’s like they can still play a meaningful part in this theory is the potential for me only one junk I think the concept is brilliantand brilliant for this time Rashida Jones working on something like that yet is almost like the decrease of the article reflect what we see on screen where you have a trio younger women being mentored by the original gas Rashida Jones working with Pat Resnick the creative the whole thing is this something that speaks to you exactly how they progres I am a little nervous about the whole link we remember that part from the first of the kind of being overwhelming the fresh take will be to pull off mainly because I do have so much a severity even creative time of the original in your Jane finally when I having great success in breaking Frankie sexy refined chess I think in terms of vans still being on their game still being funny still being wickedand knowing what Sharpand Lexmark but give me the confidenceand I think also working with Rashida Jones who is very smartand can even get as much credit she deserves a writerand creator put offand unconsciously happenand Rashida Jones growing up eight Odyssey in the public eye being that the daughter Quincy Jonesand and seeing Hollywood from a very young perspective she might actually be the best choice for a reason to do a reboot because she seemed the evolution of the evolution of Conley in there just one of the reasons why she is such a talent J is there is or something to my theory that you have to get better at making reboots where it’s like anything you studied incomeand you see what we’ve done better with Ghostbusters Hathaway rebooted that better to where maybe this movie 510 years from now really betterand more careful about how we go about making reboots you you just sent you study the pasty study game film except by now was okay is as it took so long so much game film but you she’s not she knows from the insideand again we see M Ghostbusters you all will give it has to try but I think there’s a precedent setand then we watchand we saw how you just shall been Bill Murray shall be in Danette brain is like that’s not what you should’ve done this I think she knows how to do it Rashida Jones can do no wrong she is brilliant she skimmed her commute timeand is amazing any Tribeca’s wanted great shells out so for her to take a classic comedy like thisand like you said Lily Tomand Jane Jane Fonda are doing amazing Grace Frankie this is a recipe for success already built in the southern that is no wrong if they anything goes wrong this is not in Rashida’s aunt at all is a somebody to set hey how this might the studio how about you just do this without our control but if what she writes this to write a script that make us againand Dolly Parton cameo somewhere slid in like me to stop forcing is just slated somewhere it all works you need a viewing of the greatest comedies of all that ignited fires up in my favor office comedy ever is office space you look forward to the McColgan psychotic there in a very soon for Nassau patriarch I think they 9 to 5 the reboot is get a Odyssey modernize what the office workplace is going to be like if he had three younger ladies are taking the center roll anybody got any testing options you want to throw out the right now could be one of the appearing those things that she easier or works on creatively backpack just thinking in terms of other creative forces you could be able to handle addressing the current climateand having a funny flask when you take great Amy Poulenc if they were pushing watchesand just talking about things are happening all those instances in which opposing the Golden glovesand this is almost Rashida Jones a chance to do a similar in a movie formatand life and Donna Blank in handwringing yes so works like a perfect that same similar type of life she had dilated as 1000 I like the color I I enjoy pitch perfect movies for what they are but I think it too often rebel Wilson has been put into one box I think that this could be the kind of vehicle that would get her out ofand B herself a little bit more but I would also pare her with Tiffany had a fun activity has is such a a comedic force to be reckoned with right now I would love to see them to keep away from thisand it may not be a popular opinion take the tenantand I say that the table is being shoehorned into things of a rough night everybody was always to be amazing with her I thought you the best part of a rough night the same as what is the major problem what are my little gnome is likely the best like you can with the best part of the Ghostbusters remake Tuesday was between herand Leslie Jones is either one of them in this movie but is one of those that you know you orderand if she’s but if you’re mechanicaland I’m gonna be happy with it but she does cause a divide among standard it’s a weird thing yeah this see that is likely there’s their secret is enjoyed everybody enjoyed girl strip right we dislike they were laughing a lot he has is still a lot of the same but everybody’s great you have actors like Amy can you comes on screenand it’s like some people overand some people hereand I simply don’t get angry you are talkingand went over talking on the were talking about it it’s really up to you guys were 11 chat room cast the new 9 to 5 treatmentand will book all Rashidaand Pat Resnickand let him know who you guys is a common right now or on YouTube after the fact you will hear from you guys are next story is Chris Hemsworth is known as Thor we decided to write Rockwell does appear he is going to be the lead in the new man in black spinoff as recommended by spinoff has been through many iterations of been a lot of rumors about what this will or will not include load could be a team up with 21 just happening just yet but Chris Hemsworth is being I to play the lead in it now family what they would like to have is Chris Hemsworth a black femaleand then an older person whose kind mentoring these two young ones apparently is to take place in the same men in Black universe as the original movie so are not totally rebooting it were just ushering in a new generation of people in black J Washington is that the right way to read this for youand don’t because everybody was concerned they were to skip over doing thisand go straight to the cross of which one to gentry so I’m fine with this I’m perfect because I gave you ushering this new generation especially after many blackberry a lot of people it was devised that was a very slim movie like I like Josh Brolin but then again it didn’t was negativeand better beginnings acolyte Wilson could not stand that movie I say I cannot say there was some gorgeous diehard in my defense will with it Chris Hemsworth has proven he is a comedic force when he is allowed to do what he wants to doand you can do it welland if you going to do thi I can’t similar with aliens we’ve already seen what he does not go back to writing is interacts with Cerner in the very beginning at the red rock is hysterical so expand that in taking the you know is we don’t know if he’s an established member MIB if he becomes like the Will Smith as character where he’s draftedand he has to find us out to be problem with this for here for this one Chris hazards with The play Thor it made sense on its ear because of how well he’s he’s blotted Jack okay calland then we seen in Thor it’s like he’s putting his batteries as Guardian he doesn’t know really how our language or colloquialisms work but he still funny he is still able to be funnyand then you put it in a movie any that as part of our with vacation or you get this even Ghostbustersand got some good lines in SOI like Chris Hemsworth deleting that also being comedic however he does has not hit at the box office away from the Marvel movies like I think he should. Without any clothes onand like the guy that youand Yoko had everybody or invited people to come into the bedroom while you were there we held a bed in fatigue a bed in for peace exactly what you do those things what what Iand and I don’t ask you that because I want to engender some flip response from you but what is that game for you as John Lennon or what is a gain for the cause of peace in the case of the bedand for you to do some like that Yokoand I when we got togetherand decided whatever we knew whatever we did was gonna be in the papersand up when it’s original is all so and so gets mad whenever people like us do is gonna be in the papers so we decided to utilize the space we would occupy anyway by getting married with a commercial for peaceand also a theatrical eventand a theatrical event we came up with in which utilize the least energy with a maximum effect was to work from badand wobbly that they had was a seven day press conference in bed by the past for the first day they fall to the door to get. The cuts in that city 1 billion kind New York and it’s become a disaster your reaction to this whole deep on the police after madness is going on the country well it’s ridiculous and we should do the opposite of the funding we should help the police more they have been taken gets up and take it out and it’s it’s very sad that we talked to the governor if you look at Oregon and and you look at what’s going on out there were willing to Alpena we need is supposed to call and say please send out but you know honestly that 10 000 great law enforcement people there really they can take care of it themselves but we be glad to send in the National Guard and solve the problem like we did in Minneapolis we solved that problem in one hour after they arrived we can do it in Portland so easy we can do it in Chicago a little more difficult it’s a different kind of a problem one is anarchist and the other people to go around indiscriminately shooting everyone and themselves

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Her black PVC raincoat strikes an argument with North Camden’s white fronted mansions. I follow the click clack of her stiletto heels across the pavement. She swings open a small wooden doorway, I climb inside. Eye contact was quickly established as our only means of communication. My unnamed, mute guide glares at a table in the corner of the half-lit warehouse so I shuffle across and pick up the giant pink pen. A two metre contract lolls off its four corners. I sign my name on the dotted line: I will not reveal anything that happens inside The Box until late September.

The 4-metre wooden cube stands in the middle of the empty warehouse like a lost garden shed. She knocks twice on its front before pushing open a square panel no higher than my stomach. Crouching to enter, I come up in a disorientating quasi living space coated crease to crease in thick neon pink paint. Two standing lamps illuminate a perfectly central white desk. In the middle of the desk, two bright white diner-style milkshake cups have been placed with precision. Behind the desk a woman sits up straight, silent and staring, in a black leather mini skirt and bra.

I pull up the chair opposite and meet her gaze. “Hello Annie, what a lovely pink box you have here.”

Annie Clark, best known as St. Vincent, has reached a stage in her career where even her interviews have become a manifestation of her fastidious artistic vision.

Surreal, thrilling art-pop as uneasy as it is danceable, Clark is on the cusp of her fifth album MASSEDUCTION. The record has a big space to fill. In 2014 Clark self-titled her fourth album for a reason. Refining every quest and quirk of her career to date, the singular vision of St. Vincent won her Best Alternative Music Album at the 2015 Grammys. (It’s worth noting that she was the first woman to win the award since its inception in 1991, when Sinead O’ Connor collected the gong. Though really, that says more about the music industry’s white male bias than it does about Clark.)

In the three years since the success of St. Vincent her profile and passions have expanded to fit. She’s inducted Nirvana into the Rock N Roll hall of fame, hosted a Beats 1 radio show, made her directorial debut with a horror short, acted as official ambassador for Record Store Day and become one of few artists invited to design a signature Ernie Ball Music Man guitar. Beck, Dave Grohl, Josh Homme and Taylor Swift all have a St. Vincent six string somewhere in their collections.

Prowess proven, how did she tackle the enormous challenge of superseding her own infallible benchmark fifth time around?

“I more or less prepared myself to make another record by doing completely different things,” she says, referencing her recent extra-curricular activities. “But I knew early on that I wanted to make a record about power and seduction, in all kinds of forms. Political, personal, sexual.”

The luxury of success has allowed Clark to release the details of MASSEDUCTION in micro doses. Much like the Lynchian confines of our not quite Red Room today, the album’s imagery is a shock of deceptively simple eccentricity. In one of its first photos she stands with a lacklustre stare, arms crossed, hip jutted in a neon pink room that has three pairs of bodiless legs clad in thigh high PVC stiletto boots sticking out the wall.

With paradoxical precision, the sonic accompaniment to her provocative disembodied limbs was "New York". A gentle piano ballad that zooms in on Clark’s vulnerability. “You’re the only motherfucker in the city that can handle me,” she laments.

Fans were quick to assume the album’s first single was a coded message to Clark’s former girlfriend, super-model Cara Delavigne. Their relationship thrust St. Vincent into new circles, where peak celebrity is peak content, devoured and concocted at an alarming rate. “I wasn’t really bothered by it,” she says of the cash, clothes and cameras. “If you’re in love you’re in love. I’m not going to change my behaviour. I mostly just found it very strange on a human level. How rabid people were for pictures and gossip. I don’t think that experience particularly changed me.”

It might not have changed her but it certainly affected her. In 2014 St. Vincent was our wiry silver haired cult leader. A digital witness, nodding with sardonic approval at our show-all, tell-all lives. Now she’s lived and loved through the eye of the storm, she’s returned to resuscitate her constituency with refined discontent.

True to her manifesto of “power and seduction” the album is a succinct and disconcerting picture of our times. Dystopian sugar-high electro, ballads of alienation, its thirteen tracks of pop phantasmagoria are as addictive and unsettling as the clawing social constructs we all, for better or worse, play along with.

“I think there might have been an expectation that whatever I released next would be some big, ostentatious banger,” she says of her decision to release ‘New York’ first. “Writing that song, I loved it. I thought it was really direct and emotional. People might have thought I was going to zig, so I zagged.”

St. Vincent zags, Annie Clark does not. Cultivating her own blend of passion, practice and perseverance Clark has pushed herself forward from a very young age.

Born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, to her social worker mother and stockbroker father, she was raised Roman Catholic. Her parents divorced when she was three and Clark moved with her mother to Dallas, Texas. Growing up one of eight siblings (some half, some step) Clark faced intense anxiety attacks from as young as six as she grappled with the “chaos” of the world. In her teens she began to question the internalised “culture of fear” fed to her by religion.

And how doth many a lost, pubescent mortal seek redemption? Music.

Thanks to the timeless combination of a friend’s rad Dad with a Stratocaster and some expert music supervision for the OST of a major blockbuster hit (for Clark it was Jimi Hendrix during Forrest Gump ) by 12 she had her first guitar.

From Hendrix to Zeppelin, Jethro Tull to Nirvana at their heyday and the local record store nerd who gave her PJ Harvey and Nick Cave, Clark quickly learned to respect her “inner weirdo.”

She got her first experience of life on the road with her uncle Tuck Andress and his wife Patti Cathcart, better known as jazz guitar and vocal duo Tuck & Patti. Their ubiquitous tour hand, teenage Annie was responsible for everything from flowers in the dressing room to the voltage on stage. Maintaining that she’s never worked harder, the real value came from the deeply spiritual connection her uncle had with music. An exemplary finger-picking guitarist, his talent, he insisted, came from an undoing of ego rather than a propulsion of one. She remembers watching the way their fans would listen, really listen.

Perhaps a shred of this sentiment caused her to drop out of Berklee College of Music in her third year. She realised she was being taught “every potential style of music,” she says, rather than how to develop one of her own. Aged 20 she faked it as a booking agent and moved to New York to tour the East Coast. Three months later she was broke and back at home with her parents in Texas.

Now a proficient guitarist, Clark rectified the situation with a memorable audition for choral rock troupe The Polyphonic Spree. Learning all their songs on guitar, she turned up to play them with a full guitar pedal collection and rig in tow. Joining the band on the road led to a tour spot with Sufjan Stevens and it was during one of Stevens’ UK shows in 2006 that a 24 year old Clark was spotted and signed by Beggars Banquet. Her debut album Marry Me came out the following year, on it she played 13 different instruments.

Space is important to Annie Clark. It affects the bones of her. By the time she reached third album Strange Mercy she had the means to facilitate her ideal writing conditions; a month alone, waking up in her hotel room and moving to the studio for 12 hours a day. In 2014 she told Rolling Stone she’d turned all of the books around in her New York apartment because their varying spines caused too much clutter, “There were too many different fonts next to one another,” she reasoned. Committed to a relentless touring schedule both before and after St. Vincent, by the time she came home in late 2015 she knew the only way to create a new record was to build the space to do it in first. “I just knew I needed a space to work. A space where I could really work.” How can she ‘really’ get to work? “Everything needs to have a purpose,” she says firmly. Did she live in the new studio? “Yeah, I mean, like, there’s a bedroom. And four rooms dedicated to music. It functions so every room is wired up to be recorded, except for the bedroom, which probably should have been, haha! It was just nice to have a space where I could do whatever I wanted. From the outset, I just did so many things alone.” 

Just under a year after the studio was built Bleachers’ Jack Antonoff came on board. As a producer he’s worked with Taylor Swift and Lorde. How fully-formed were the new St. Vincent songs before they reached him? “Sometimes really fully-formed,” she nods. “Some things intended as demos became parts of the actual album. ‘Fear The Future’ was pretty much formed as a song. The guitars in that are from my demo. But working with him, there was also a lot of back and forth, making sure that every song was the best possible version of itself.” 

The journey for some songs was simple. “'New York' was written on guitar,” says Clark. “And then we just had it played on piano by Thomas Bartlett."

The journey for others, not so much. “The genesis of ‘Pills’ was that I was having trouble sleeping,” she says of the album’s four minute mental pop opera. “I took like, an over the counter sleeping pill and I just started singing the song’s jingle. ‘Pills to eat / pills to sleep / pills, pills, pills / every day of the week.’ And I was like, oh, that’s a good one. I’ll take that! So many songs that we love are like versions of nursery rhymes, you know? So I knew that it was something. And then the second half of that song, I had this piece of music that I’d written for David Byrne’s ‘Colour Guard’ project. So I kind of had ‘Pills’ part 1 and ‘Pills’ part 2. I didn’t necessarily think they would go together but I kept refining both of them.”

“The first time I played it for Jack,” she continues, “it had both parts but it wasn’t really fleshed out as an idea. He was like, ‘that’s really cool, that sounds really ambitious’ and I was like, ‘hm. Ambitious is not what you want to sound like. Ambitious sounds like you’re really trying for something but you didn’t get there.’ So, OK. This needs to be something people can really dance to until they listen to the words and then they’re crying.”

It’s an adage as ancient as lyrical music itself. Words full of hurt, tunes full of hope, the ultimate sing-a-long catharsis. ‘How could anybody have you / how could anybody have you and lose you / how could anybody have you and lose you and not lose their minds too,’ Clark struts on the insatiable electro sleaze of "Los Angeles."

Considering her demi-God status as a guitarist, much of the swaggering pop on MASSEDUCTION is won by its dizzying synths, pushing the album closer to a dancefloor than Clark’s ever dared. Her gender fluid anthem ‘Sugar Boy’ sounds like Donna Summer singing "Blue Monday." “Yes. There’s a lot of synths,” she laughs. “Jack’s playing most of the synths. I never got, I mean, I can get a tone, but I never got good enough at playing that I would wanna go, like “here, I got this” for anything other than a demo. I did a little bit on previous records but that was because I was the only one in the room.” Of the guitar that we do hear, how much of that can be attributed to her new Ernie Ball signature? “I didn’t use any other guitar on this record!” she responds, gleefully. “And not for any other reason than I love it. I have all these vintage guitars. Obviously I love guitars. I have a lot of guitars! But this was just the most perfect, flexible, go to instrument. I did a lot of glam tuning with the slide!” Is this the first time she’s only used one guitar across a whole album? “It really is. I mean, on the last record I think I used like, Thurston Moore’s Jazzmaster – his signature from Fender. My old Harmony Bobkat. And my Music Man Albert Lee for a lot of the whammy bar stuff.” 

At some point during our conversation in The Box an abstract instrumental has crept on in the background. It’s an unsettling ambient drone, more Steve Reich than St. Vincent. As it quietly hums beneath us, I fall further from the reality outside The Box and closer to the one in it. Clark casually realigns the milkshake cups on the centre of the table.

I found an old photograph of you, I begin. She eyes me cautiously. I describe the find, 2004 Clark hunched over her guitar, the only female member of noise rock quartet Skull Fuckers but looking every inch the part in a black beanie, oversized t-shirt and jeans. “I was a kid in those photos!” she recoils. “It’s so horrifying to think of!” The cover art for MASSEDUCTION is a woman in pink tights and a leopard print thong, bent over, sticking her head through a bright red wall. Coupled with the PVC clad legs hanging through pink glory holes, this album features the most highly sexualised set of St. Vincent images to date.

“Yes, but I also think they’re funny,” she says. “Because there’s a level of absurdity. I couldn’t take myself seriously if it was just me and some sort of sexy outfit doing fuck me face.” I wonder to what extent she’s grappled with her own outward presentation of gender. She’s a long way from the girl with no make-up hiding under a black beanie. Last year she performed a gig dressed as a life-size toilet.

“Gender is performative,” she asserts. “And I think it’s very important to be cautious of the ways in which you unconsciously perform gender. Especially if the axioms that have been passed down to you through patriarchal culture are not fulfilling to your empowerment. But as far as the performance of sexuality on this record, it’s an exploration of power and seduction and to me, that does have an absurdist, humorous side.”

It also, quite clearly for Clark, has a vulnerable one. On "Happy Birthday, Johnny" she gently documents her relationship with a past friend or lover over barely there piano. ‘You saw me on magazines and TV,’ she sings. ‘What happened to blood / our family / Annie how could you do this to me?’

The album’s final lurching track "Smoking Section" placates line after line of crippling desperation, ‘Sometimes I go to the edge of my roof / I think I’ll jump just to punish you,’ with a cyclic admonition, ‘let it happen / let it happen / let it happen.’

“Songs are Rorschach Tests,” she says, looking me dead in the eye. “And no, I’m not lonely at all,” she adds, answering the question.

Suddenly there’s a sharp, triple knock and The Box door swings open. My PVC clad guide waits for Annie to finish.

“There’s so many instances where I act on instinct,” she says of the costume, colour and choreography that now envelop her work. “So I often act on instinct with form. And meaning comes later. In the words of Annie B Parsons who I love as a friend, my choreographer, ‘Form is spiritual.’”

Before leaving, I express my fondness for The Box in no uncertain terms. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it more than a hotel lobby,” she replies.

Outside is bright and fast and real and rubbish compared to inside The Box. I wish I was back in The Box, I tell St. Vincent’s publicist.

“You didn’t get any answers?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“She didn’t play you any answers?”

For the past forty minutes I’ve been cocooned in a neon pink wooden womb with St. Vincent none the wiser to her master plan. Turns out, if I’d have asked any one of the multiple questions on her hit list she’d have pressed a button, an automated interview answer would have played and I’d have been booted straight out The Box.

Oh the power.

Oh, the seduction.

[cursivesugg]

Instinct || Josh Pieters

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: This is literally just a huge ball of fluff because I’m feeling very broody rn and miss my lil baby sm<3

You and Josh had a thousand things in common, one of the many things that spurred you to fall for him, but there was one specific thing that you defiantly did not share. And that, was your motherly instinct.

You really couldn’t help it, it just came naturally to you. It may have been due to the fact that you grew up taking care of your younger siblings seeing as both of your parents worked and only really came home to sleep.

They were older now, and you knew deep down that they could look after themselves and didn’t need you as much anymore, but that didn’t make moving out of your family home any harder.

These days, you really didn’t have anyone much younger than you to look after, only Josh, who, admittedly, didn’t need you as much as you liked to think he did. He was a grown ass man who was living his best life and was ever thankful that you were by his side throughout his journey, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a little unneeded.

You’d always had such a purpose, a drive that got you out of bed at five am every morning and only let you sleep when everybody else in your life was one hundred percent satisfied. Not having that made you feel inadequate.

That wasn’t to say your life living with Josh and Caspar wasn’t challenging, but you just felt like they withdrew themselves from you, obviously under the impression that you didn’t want to have to deal with their problems. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

There was a turning point, as there is with every resounding situation; and it was a cloudy Monday morning. You were sat on the couch in your sweats, your hair up in a messy bun and a small amount of makeup on your face. It was a personally proclaimed lazy day; and besides, you’d always been convinced that Monday’s were originally created as a day to recover from the weekend.

Josh had left early that morning, kissing you softly on the cheek as you mumble incoherently, still half asleep as you push your face into the pillow and hear him chuckle slightly as he left the room and flicked the light off.

You were sure that he’d gone to a meeting, seeing as you’d had a conversation with it the previous evening; but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the meeting was about. You silently shake your head and curse yourself for having such a bad memory.

You were swaying your hips and scrambling some eggs in a pan when your phone chimed from its place on the countertop. You reached over and kept one eye on the pan as you unlocked the device and read the message from one of your best friends. The further you read, the more the pit of your stomach began to bubble with excitement.

She’d asked you if it was okay for her to drop her little boy at your place for a few hours seeing as you lived hardly ten minutes from her place and her babysitter had dropped out last minute.

You agreed readily and you could just tell she was laughing at you for getting so excited. You had time to eat your eggs and make sure nothing too sharp was exposed at floor level before you heard a knock on the door.

Swinging the door open, you smile at her widely and she just chuckles and rolls her eyes at you, pushing into the apartment and placing the baby bags onto the counter before passing you the car seat. “He’s asleep at the minute, won’t be long until he wakes up. He shouldn’t be any trouble really, he loves his Auntie (Y/N).” She smiles at you and kisses your cheek, glancing down at her watch and cursing quietly. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for longer, but I’m so late. I’ll see you in a few hours, and thanks again babe!” She calls as she walks out of the apartment, closing the door softly behind her and leaving you to grin down at the sleeping baby.

You truly were in your element, and even when he woke up and cried softly for a while, you couldn’t help but continue to smile as you bounce him up and down in your arms and hush him softly as you walk around the apartment; knowing for a fact that movement never failed to calm him down.

When he was happy and you had him giggling, you decided to prop him up on the couch and keep him stable with pillows and sit directly in front of him with your legs crossed, playing peek-a-boo and laughing whenever he threw his head back and gargled gibberish which you could only assume was him letting you know how much he appreciated your dry sense of humour.

You barely even noticed when Josh walked back into the apartment, along with Caspar and a very frazzled Joe following suit. They all froze and their conversation halted when they spotted you sat on the couch, your face pressed against the babies as you blew raspberries with your mouth and giggled when he stared into your eyes and blew spit bubbles.

You looked up over the back of the couch when you heard Josh drop his keys onto the counter, and smile at them all. “Heya guys, how was the meeting?”

“Alright.” Josh shrugs, before furrowing his brows and sharing a look with a few of the boys as you go back to quietly playing peek-a-boo with the baby. “Um, babe, where’d you get the baby?”

You scrunch up your nose and look at him in disbelief. “I went and got him in Tesco, where’d you think I got him?” She says sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she steadied the tiny swaying body. “(Y/F/N) dropped him off, her babysitter bailed on her and she had a meeting in Central London.”

“He’s so adorable!” Caspar squeals, running over and sitting on his knees in front of the couch, staring at the baby as if he was the most precious thing in the world. “Oh my goodness, I just wanna eat him up!”

You chuckle and wipe away some dribble with the bib you’d grabbed out of the bag from the babies chin. You look up at Joe and Josh and nod toward the baby. “Come say hello.”

Caspar awes softly as you brush some of the hair away from the little man’s face and he leans into your touch with a gargle, causing you to grin and rub your thumb across his cheek. Joe and Josh huddle around the sofa, Joe kneeling down beside Caspar and Josh sitting behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck once before he began staring at the baby over your shoulder.

Caspar picks up one of the many toys that had somehow already been littered all across the apartment and cautiously holds it in-front of the baby, the smile on his face widening hugely when the boy reaches his chubby little arms out and makes grabby hands for the plush giraffe.

Joe was making funny faces at the baby, making him stare at him with his wide eyes and laugh, but hardly anything compared to the way he laughed with you. It was more than likely to do with the fact that he knew who you were, and was only just now meeting Joe for the first time.

There was peace for a few minutes, and you conversed with the boys about their meeting and how everything had gone, but before you could get into telling them about the boring morning you’d had, the babies mood suddenly turned and he went from gurgling happily to screaming at the top of his lungs.

The boys all move away, their eyes widening in shock, but you simply laugh and roll your eyes at them, reaching forward and lifting the baby into your arms, standing up and patting his back softly as you walk around to the back of the couch and pace circles slowly. “Hey, hey no, it’s okay. Shh.”

You continue to mindlessly mumble reassuring things to the baby as you reheat his bottle of milk, expertly resting it on your wrist all whilst balancing the now deeply breathing baby on your hip. When you were sure that it wasn’t too hot, you popped the nipple into his mouth and rocked him gently as he stared up at you and guzzled the milk down before falling asleep in your arms with an empty bottle hanging between his gums.

You clean up his face and put the bottle on the counter before walking over to the car seat and placing him down inside, making sure to cover him with his little blanket and putting a pacifier between his clenched fingers just in case he was to wake up.

When you were fully satisfied that he was as safe and as comfortable as he could be, you hop over the back of the sofa and cuddle into Josh’s side. He wraps his arm around your waist and hugs you into him as Caspar continued to play Counter Strike on his computer on the other side of the room and Joe began to vlog a little, updating his viewers on his day. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d been filming before.

That night, when your friend had come to pick up the baby and had thanked you multiple times for being, in her words, a life saver, and Joe left to go home, you and Josh cuddled together in bed. He ran his fingers up and down your back as he began to speak softly. “Did you have a good day today?”

You nod and smile at him. “One of the best in a while.”

“Seeing you with kids, it makes me really happy,” Josh admits, his voice croaky and his accent so much more prominent now than it was during the day due to his sleepiness. “You think we’ll start a family one day?”

You purse your lips together and shrug. “I like to hope so.”

He grins and pushes his face into the crook of your neck, yawning softly and closing his eyes. “Well, in that case, there’s something I need to tell you.”

You narrow your eyes and push him away gently, looking at him with your eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”

“I may or may not have lost a bet to Casp when we were seventeen and now have to give my first child Caspar as a middle name.”

You were about to groan and laugh at his, and coincidentally, your, expense, but after thinking about it for a second, you hum and nod, causing the red head to eye you in confusion. “Something Caspar Pieters, I like it.” You kiss him quickly before getting comfortable and switching off your lamp. “Night babe.”

You hear Josh laugh and you can’t help but smile into your pillow, especially when he curls himself around you from behind you and begins to trace shapes into the exposed skin on your stomach. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You mumble sleepily, your eyes slowly closing as the events of the day caught up to you and you fell into dreams of yourself and Josh’s future.

[bobbystompy]

My Top 127 Songs Of 2018

Previously: 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Not the most ever... just the second most ever. The record of 132 stands. I hope it is never broken.

As always, criteria and info:

This is a list of what I personally like, not ones I’m saying are the “best” from the year; more subjective than objective

No artist is featured more than once

If it comes down to choosing between two songs, I try to give more weight to a single or featured track

Each song on the list is linked in the title if you wanna check any or every out for yourself; there is also a Spotify playlist at the bottom that includes 122 of the 127 songs

Well?

/grins

127) B.o.B - “Food Fight”

Some triplet rap, pretty boring, and I have no idea what this song is supposed to be. But the “Food of the WiFi” part makes me laugh, and I always picture my buddy Matto singing it to his eye rolling wife (even though I’m pretty sure he’s never heard the song before).

126) French Montana f/ Drake - “No Stylist”

This song sucks -- even Drake can’t save it. French Montana is cancer except you don’t get to die.

125) 21 Savage - “Monster”

Not a huge Savage guy, but the Gambino verse helps.

124) The Kooks - “All The Time”

Kind of a lazy chorus, but it’s aight.

123) Sean Paul f/ Jhené Aiko - “Naked Truth”

Love Aiko, have never cared for Paul... but the collab weirdly works.

122) REASON - “Summer Up”

My buddy Josh sent this one, and it’s got the warm vibes. Money stretch:

P asked me is REASON still workin', shit N***a, is Amber Rose still twerkin', gold diggers still flirtin' horny teens still jerkin', all my exes still lurkin' black lives still hurtin', black lives still hurtin'?

121) Nipsey Hussle f/ YG - “Last Time That I Checc’d”

B’s vs. C’s. And a beat that sounds like DJ Mustard combined with ‘90s G-funk. Also, YG’s bandanna scarf is just very cute.

120) Thrice - “Only Us”

Weirdly, another reds and blues music video. But this time, it’s kids at a summer camp. This could absolutely be used by networks as a pump up song for sporting events.

119) Anderson .Paak f/ Kendrick Lamar - “TINTS”

Anderson .Paak -- ohhhh, that dot will always annoy me -- really does not make bad songs. Kung Fu Kenny fits right in, and it’s a very easy hit-the-spot driving song.

118) Mr Hudson f/ Vic Mensa - “Coldplay”

A serious song that uses an emotional reliance on Coldplay to take objective shots at Coldplay, which is pretty hilarious. Vic’s verse is good (”I lost my Queen poppin’ Ace of Spades at King of Diamonds ... I hate Coldplay”).

117) Logic f/ Wu-Tang Clan - “Wu Tang Forever”

Long cypher song. If you care about hip-hop, you probably know Drake also released a song called “Wu-Tang Forever” five years ago (which featured no members of Wu-Tang). There was talk of a remix -- RZA even recently said he wished they did -- but Inspectah Deck articulated why it didn’t happen back then:

“When I finally got to hear the song, I was more or less like, ‘Wow, I thought it was a tribute song like, it would be in respect of all eight members,'” Deck said. “And when I heard it, it was about a girl.”

You can just sense the colossal and spiritual disappointment.

Well, this one is more about fire than females; you’ll shout “Wu-Tang” proudly at least once. My MVP verse is Ghostface.

116) Jhené Aiko f/ Rae Sremmurd - “Sativa”

Rae Sremmurd* still sound like little kids to me. Conversely, Jhené Aiko is all that is woman.

(* - never knew they were brothers until just now)

115) Sam Coffey & The Iron Lungs - “First Time”

Sam Coffey first got on my radar with The Clash-sounding song “Talk 2 Her”. This is less of that and more, like, ‘80s hair metal. It’s almost hard to tell if this is sincere or parody. The video absolutely does not take itself seriously.

114) Saves The Day - “Kerouac & Cassady”

Always been impressed with the very unthreatening Chris Conley’s ability to create such sinister, dark, and menacing imagery. This maybe has the most bleak closing line of any of these songs.

113) 5 Seconds Of Summer - “Youngblood”

This is what Fall Out Boy tries to sound like with their new stuff... but they just suck so bad now.

112) She Killed In Ecstasy - “Dissension (Gold)”

I remembered this being a dope instrumental before totally forgetting about the just-as-awesome vocals; great band name, too. Recommended by my friends Jim and Bill over brunch after taking in their show at Subterranean in Chicago the previous night. This could be the closing theme for a critically acclaimed TV show.

111) Night Birds - “My Dad Is The BTK”

Straightforward, bratty punk rock that promotes snitching (if you’re sure it’s for the right reasons).

110) The Decemberists - “Once In My Life”

Why does such an outwardly melancholy song still feel so damn uplifting? Probably the video. They have a long statement attached on YouTube, so for sure peep if this catches your interest.

109) Mad Caddies - “She’s Gone”

Here we have a straight up reggae cover of NOFX. Sometimes I don’t think I like this song at all, but it might just be hard to separate it from the original; almost wish it was possible to go in with a clean slate. Maybe you can on my behalf?

108) Rivers Cuomo - “Two Broken Hearts”

Would you rather not know the video uses Bitmojis or the pre-chorus promotes two different ice cream brands before the song ends?

107) XXXTENTACION - “Train food”

This song is intense; gave me memories of listening to Kendrick’s “The Art of Peer Pressure”. X not surviving 2018 makes it that much more haunting.

106) Kanye West & Lil Pump f/ Adele Givens - “I Love It”

Not sure why, in his most embattled year yet, Kanye decided to be a part of such a derogatory song towards women. Listening to it makes me feel bad. And sure, the MAGA imagery will be what we think of when we think of 2018 Yeezy, but this picture shouldn’t be too far off either.

Shark: jumped.

105) New Lenox - “Do You Think We Made The Most Of Those New Years Eves”

That is a very long song title. But not as long as the time since passed on this reflection of the final night of the year, over a decade now gone. But even though he’s looking back, you know Chris Trott gets to hit reset at the end of the night, whether it’s December 31st or January 1st. And when NYE hits again, whether you return to the same party in the same place or a different experience in a totally different hemisphere, celebrating something is what makes this all matter.

(Full disclosure: yours truly has a minor backup vocal part in the outro)

104) Jeff Tweedy - “Having Been Is No Way To Be”

This for sure made it on the list because of the “And if I was dead, what difference would it ever make to them?” line, but upon closer scrutiny, the “And I’m sorry when you wake up to me” line is even more crushing.

103) Panic! At The Disco - “Dying In LA”

Brendon Urie’s voice is so polished and full. This song is him in complete control, and he knows it too (the “Dyin’ in LA” falsetto part at the end of the chorus is... probably not necessary).

102) Sugarland f/ Taylor Swift - “Babe”

Though Taylor’s impact in the music video is significantly stronger than her impact in the actual song, it’s still rock solid country. Or... country solid country?

/curtsies

101) ZHU & Tame Impala - “My Life”

This song has such a dancy cool on the power of its instrumentation; really doesn’t need vocals at all.

100) Kidd Russell & Southside Jake - “Slow Motion”

The poppiest SSJ has ever sounded. This is his best song to date. I’m not so sure if “Shots kill the butterflies” is an actual expression, but it should be.

99) Hop Along - “What The Writer Meant”

Hot damn, what a voice. This song is beauty in our not-often-beautiful world.

98) Retirement Party - “That’s How People Die”

This reminds me of a female fronted version of the departed Modern Baseball. Eager to see how they develop and definitely plan on checking their Audiotree session soon.

97) Lil Peep - “Sex With My Ex”

It’s... really good, you guys. The grimy nihilism of the “Fuck me like we’re lying on our deathbed” is palpable. It’s impossible not to think of the heights Peep would have almost definitely hit had he not passed. Also, super interesting tidbit on how the album got posthumously made:

Lil Peep died of an accidental drug overdose last November [2017] at 21. Afterward, attention turned to his computer. First, it went to London, where the files were backed up by First Access Entertainment, the company that helped guide his career.

Then it went to his mother, Liza Womack. In an interview in her cozy Long Island home, sitting on a nondescript couch that belonged to Peep and was shipped cross-country after his death, she calmly recalled walking into an Apple store, handing the laptop to a clerk, and saying: “My son died. This is him. Take this and put it on a new one.”

96) Kurt Vile - “Bassackwards”

I was on the beach, but I was thinkin’ about the bay

This has Kurt Vile’s signature laid back-ness (good) but also has a 9:46 track length (VERY VERY BAD). I’m not saying it has to be even four minutes long... but, like, could you have given us seven, KV? All of that aside, it really doesn’t slog at all despite mostly staying the same the whole time. Though I still can’t stop thinking about how much shorter it should be.

95) Christine And The Queens - “Doesn’t matter”

Kinda ‘80s pop sounding. Also, there’s a foreign accent there. British maybe?

/googles

French! Even better.

94) Brendan Kelly And The Wandering Birds - “Shitty Margarita”

Wish the drums were louder, BK.

93) Courtney Barnett - “Nameless, Faceless”

Barnett does not fuck around with her chorus/old adage:

I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark Women are scared that men will kill them

This type of perspective, down to the description of how she has to hold her keys in a way your average dude might not think about, remains so crucial as we all hope to continue to better understand each other.

92) Jeff Rosenstock - “Powerlessness”

Meet me at the Polish bar I'll be the one looking at my phone Shaking like a nervous kid Absolutely terrified of being alone

...it doesn’t sound how it reads. All of his skittish energy fuels this fist pumping jam. And don’t miss the guitar solo.

91) Charli XCX - “5 In The Morning”

Pretty standard fare pop song, but Charli makes it cooler and better than if the average person jumped on.

90) Pinegrove - “Darkness”

Gonna be honest: it was nearly impossible to listen to Pinegrove in 2018 without thinking of the sexual coercion accusations from the previous year. Jenn Pelly’s long ass piece really did nothing to help matters. So because of all this, I listened to their new album “Skylight” wayyyyy less than originally anticipated. The few times -- really maybe ‘time’ in all actuality -- I was able to separate the story from the songs, it definitely became enjoyable. This has head clearing guitar leads and a lyric straight outta Sublime’s “Garden Grove”.

89) Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson - “Bad Dreams”

Brooding, nighttime, driving; good ingredients for a successful duet.

88) Meek Mill f/ Rick Ross & JAY Z - “What’s Free”

Now, if I’m Rick Ross, I spend my entire career avoiding any situation where people can compare me to Biggie. But since Rick Ross is Rick Ross, he went with the opposite plan. This is his (to my knowledge) second reimagined Biggie song*, and... it’s... it’s rough. I mean, how far can you take it with the line “Mona Lisa, to me, ain't nothin' but a b***h” and end with a gay slur. Pass.

But we also have the GOAT. In classic Jay fashion, he spits a lot of good words, you know it’s complex, and there’s no way to process it without more listens. And yes, the immediate brand checks are super annoying, but he pushes through and delivers some bars:

They gave us pork and pig intestines Shit you discarded that we ingested, we made the project a wave You came back, reinvested and gentrified it Took n****s' sense of pride, now how that's free?

When he finishes, the song itself ends, and we have one of the more long and uneven Jay cameos ever put on wax. It’s, like, a 5-star B-.

(* -  the first being 2014′s “Nobody”, a take off “You’re Nobody [Til Somebody Kills You]”, featuring French Montana, which spawned an all-time Rap Radar comment, “If someone killed French, he’d still be a nobody”; I will bring it up with the most minor of segues for the rest of my life)

87) Red City Radio - “In The Shadows”

I tend to prefer Red City Radio playing more uptempo, but they drag us down to a slower speed for this one. This centers around the cryptic “I show no fear when I know that the devil’s here” line, and the guitar solo is definitely overqualified for the genre.

86) Kanye West - “Yikes”

/cracks knuckles

The song: banging chorus, solid beat, lyrics meh. Of course it was the song he got Drake for, because it’s the only one on his solo release that vaguely resembled a hit.

The album: Calling “ye” bad is a little unfair, but the best and realest description is sadder: it’s Kanye’s most inessential record. It was forgettable at best and cringeworthy/offensive at worst. The one about his daughter was particularly appalling:

Don't do no yoga, don't do pilates Just play piano and stick to karate I pray your body's draped more like mine And not like your mommy's

This doesn’t even get into the entirely warped mental health takes that I’m not nearly qualified enough to address.

Kanye himself: Every Kanye fan has defended Kanye, some Kanye fans have abandoned Kanye, but 2018 was legitimately the tipping point where it felt like we all finally had enough, in unification. Shock, betrayal, and disappointment are probably the best adjectives. When you are willing to forgive someone for 90% of their behavior, and they up their bullshit to 110%, an understandable separation must occur. At this point, the man we once called Yeezus is now the hip-hop Louis C.K.: no type of constructive or negative feedback can penetrate his brain, and any new attempts at creative output only make everything worse.

85) Royce da 5′9′’ f/ Eminem & King Green - “Caterpillar”

As lyrical as it gets on this list, but what else do you expect from Em and Royce? Not a huge fan of the chorus (at least that loud part in the first half). Eminem legit goes off for, like, ten lines with a pooping metaphor to close the song.

84) Nicki Minaj - “Barbie Dreams”

Staying in the redone Biggie songs lane, we have Nicki with a passive evisceration of your favorite male rapper. You can call it crass, but I’d argue her playfulness makes the whole thing work, combined with the fact that it’s flipping the male gaze on its head. And though she’s having fun, some of these movie punches catch real faces. My favorites:

3) “Drake worth a hundred mill, he always buyin' me shit / But I don't know if the pussy wet or if he cryin' and shit”

2) “I remember when I used to have a crush on Special Ed / Shoutout Desiigner 'cause he made it out of special ed”

1) “Had to cancel DJ Khaled, boy, we ain't speakin' / Ain't no fat n**** tellin' me what he ain't eatin'”

Goodbye forever, DJ Khaled.

83) Bad Bunny f/ Drake - “MIA”

I do social media for my high school alma mater’s football team, and this song first got on my radar when of the players tweeted something like “I can’t understand a word, but this is really good”. I was piqued, and it delivered. Nobody cultural appropriates quite like Drizzy Drake. Also, am I the only one who would have maybe been happier if the song was called “Bad Bunny” and the featured artist was M.I.A.?

82) Phoebe Bridgers - “Christmas Song”

Christmas songs are hard to write because they’re either taken or terrible, but Bridgers definitely carved out her own lane. This could work as a single person under a spotlight or sung by a group of lonely strangers finding camaraderie at a bar; within the song, you actually get both scenarios.

81) Remo Drive - “Blue Ribbon”

Got into this band for the first time in 2018, and though some of their older songs got more spins, this was my favorite from the new album.

80) The Sidekicks - “Twin’s Twist”

Mostly just impressed they were able to seamlessly integrate the “Chronic 2001″ into lyrics of a lighter rock song.

79) Real Friends - “From The Outside”

My favorite chorus they’ve ever written. While remaining thoroughly pop punk, the catchiness puts it more on the pop side of that spectrum.

78) Mike Posner - “Song About You”

Posner sounds like he’s barely trying, and it’s still so, so good. Favorite moment is this non-rhyme: “Since you’ve been gone, I got nothing to do / I sleep until noon, I wake up and feel bad”. It’s like a pop freestyle or something.

Also, extra shout out for how well he took his social media roasting after the Thanksgiving performance in Detroit. Love this dude.

77) Bad Religion - “The Kids Are Alt-Right”

What if I told you Bad Religion made a song with an intro that sounded like Andrew W.K.’s “Party Till You Puke” but were somehow still able to stay afloat? Hell, I’m confused too. The satirical lyrics mark 2018 for what it was. The pre-chorus, I remain torn on.

76) Blood Orange - “Saint”

You said it before

Looped keyboard beat over some smooth lyrics and melodies.

75) Juice WRLD - “Lucid Dreams”

I cannot change you so I must replace you

Still unclear how this *isn’t* a Post Malone song.

74) Tancred - “Queen Of New York”

Own the city.

73) We Were Sharks - “Drop The Act”

Ohhhhh, I love this production.

72) Cloud Nothings - “Leave Him Now”

This band continues to possess all of the melodic fury (and the Russell Westbrook of drummers).

71) Childish Gambino - “Summertime Magic”

Wasn’t big on “This Is America”*, so Glover releasing an ode to the best season as an alternative selection helped.

(* - at least not the song; vid was interesting)

70) The 1975 - “Love It If We Made It”

The 1975 are one of those bands where liking them makes you feel like an alien because everyone else either loves or dogs them. I’m keepin’ this casual, aight?

Also, since all writers are contractually obligated, we must mention the “Fucking in a car, shooting heroin” line which opens the song.

69) Kississippi - “Cut Yr Teeth”

Saw this band play in a classroom at a high school (google “BLED FEST”) in Michigan in May of 2018. They were fun, diverse, and covered Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle”. This tune is a little more serious and locked in.

68) Muncie Girls - “Picture Of Health”

Every part of this song is well-written, but it all builds to a massive chorus.

67) Justin Timberlake f/ Chris Stapleton - “Say Something”

There was a time, in January 2018, when not a ton of music had dropped yet, and this song was everywhere. It was like the dead-of-winter equivalent to the Song of the Summer. This one definitely gets docked some points for what I’d call weak lyricism. You can tell both dudes were way into it though, which does help make up for it some.

66) Interpol - “The Rover”

As speedy as I’ve ever heard Interpol; pretty unskippable.

65) Dashboard Confessional - “Catch You”

Imagine if this were the only Dashboard song you’d ever heard. You’d think they were, like, happy. Our protagonist has a trustworthy assurance that should put you at ease.

64) Gulfer - “Secret Stuff”

No singing on this list will alienate you faster than the first eight seconds of this one.

63) Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - “Talking Straight”

Though this feels like two band names in one, RBCF know exactly what they’re doing as it pertains to the actual songwriting. This would fit right in during the mid-2000s garage/indie rock boom; could listen to the chorus on a loop.

62) Rita Ora f/ Cardi B, Bebe Rexha & Charli XCX - “Girls”

This song has the unique distinction of being think pieced and outraged cycled before I even got a chance to hear a second of it. The case:

Now, it goes without saying that the best people to explain why this song feels damaging and hurtful to queer women are queer women themselves – girls who kiss girls whether they’ve been gulping back Malbec or not. “A song like this just fuels the male gaze while marginalizing the idea of women loving women,” wrote Hayley Kiyoko on Twitter. Kehlani said it has “many awkward slurs, quotes, and moments”. MUNA’s Katie Gavin noted that in ‘Girls’ she hears “the familiar chorus that women’s sexuality is something to be looked at instead of authentically felt”.

To her credit, Ora apologized the very same day that piece came out (PUN INTENDED). What’s weird is the idea of this song being problematic made me like it more. It gives the sexual flippancy of the chorus authenticity. I don’t know, man -- this stuff is complicated.

Not complicated? Cardi B’s awful green screen cameo featuring cheap looking special effects.

/shakes head in disappointment 

61) Eminem f/ Ed Sheeran - “River”

Though not apples to apples -- since he’s not spitting -- we shall remember this as the time Ed Sheeran > Eminem in a song.

Marshall remains our unquestioned king of the ‘relationship dysfunction’ genre.

60) Culture Abuse - “Calm E”

Everyone’s getting back together

The writers of the perfect and generational “Dream On” continue to stay in the mellow lane with their subsequent releases. When you can pull off both, why not?

59) Brian Fallon - “Silence”

Fallon covers -- /checks notes --  Marshmello f/ Khalid, but it really could be an original. Dude really knows how to pick ‘em. I remember hearing this randomly at Shinto (a sushi/hibachi place) in Naperville; don’t remember if it was this or the original. Such a moving chorus.

58) Okkervil River - “Don’t Move Back To LA”

Gotta appreciate the persistent sentiment -- even though it’d be the opposite of my advice. Also took about 99.9% of the year for me to stop calling this band “Overkill” River in my head.

57) Natalie Prass - “Short Court Style”

Uber catchy and with a real groove.

56) The Interrupters - “She’s Kerosene”

2018 Rancid, down to the raspy-ish singing from Aimee Allen.

55) boygenius - “Me & My Dog”

When I heard Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and someone named Lucy Dacus were forming a super group, I was stoked. This tune was the one that jived the most with my vision of the project. Amazingly sick harmonies, dropping elbows on your heart like a professional wrestler, and introspection on introspection.

I wanna be emaciated I wanna hear one song without thinking of you I wish I was on a spaceship Just me and my dog and an impossible view

So, so, so, so good.

54) Shack Wes - “Mo Bamba”

How do you explain “Mo Bamba” to someone who doesn’t like rap? How do you explain “Mo Bamba” to someone who does like rap? I don’t know, but I am Teddy Bridgewater now.

53) Lil Dicky f/ Chris Brown, Ed Sheeran, DJ Khaled & Kendall Jenner - “Freaky Friday”

If you thought Rita Ora’s “Girls” was messy, allow me to introduce you to our last bad rap song on the list. Actually, maybe the Virginia Tech women’s lacrosse team would be a better candid--OHHHHH LADIES NO!!!!!!!!11111111

So yeah, whether it’s the most lightning rod word in American history, cultural appropriation, reverse cultural appropriation, or even just a good ol’ “I Blame Chris Brown” take, this attempt at comedy hip-hop got put under a microscope for all the right and wrong reasons. No one came out unscathed. But, like Ora’s song, if you can ignore some components (read: nearly everything), it’s so god damn fun, man. I mean, Dicky and Chris Brown swapped bodies -- pretty nuts. And it’s rare for an MVP line to be “How his dick staying perched up on his balls like that?”

52) Jay Rock f/ Kendrick Lamar, Future & James Blake - “King’s Dead”

I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it

The back half of the Future verse is the worst part about this song... yet the most fun to talk about. He raps auto-tuned, in falsetto... and these are the lyrics:

La di da di da, slob on me knob Pass me some syrup, fuck me in the car La di da di da, mothafuck the law Chitty chitty bang, murder everything

What a disgrace. Yet, almost like a whimsy 2 Chainz verse, it’s really fucking memorable.

51) Soccer Mommy - “Your Dog”

Noticeably good bassline? Check. Skin crawlingly bad band name? Check. Cool swearing? Yup.

50) Vince Staples - “FUN!”

Vince could rap his way out a bottomless pit; floating elevation flow.

49) Dan + Shay - “Tequila”

Tried so hard to get this one next to “Shitty Margarita”. Genuinely love this song. Maybe it’s the mountains in the music video, but that chorus just soars.

48) Meg Myers - “Numb”

Look up in the air and see this tidal wave chorus crashing through the world in slow motion.

47) The Penske File - “Fairgrounds”

My new working theory -- which really feels more like fact -- is how cool lyrics with the phrase “Meet me...” are. It creates this aura of unknown, mystery, and maybe even danger; like anything could happen if you just agree. Here are some from songs just off the top of my head:

Meet me by the lake

Meet me at the reservoir

Meet me in Montauk

Meet me in the middle (more on that one later)

Meet me in the back

Meet me at midnight

The list goes on. So please say “yes” to The Penske File at the fairgrounds, won’t you?

46) Lil Wayne f/ Swizz Beatz - “Uproar”

Weezy goes this entire song only using “oh” rhymes; not sure how he does it. Sometimes, I listen to this and pretend I’m a buffalo.

45) Cardi B - “Be Careful”

Cardi sampled Lauryn (wayyyyyyyy more on this later) and made it work. The chorus always sticks with me, and though the verses have a few bumps along the way, they might even be better.

44) Elway - “Crowded Conscience”

Elway pulls up their roots in this All Colorado Everything lyric video, and you’ll be ready to tap the Rockies when the singalong chorus finishes.

43) Pkew Pkew Pkew - “Passed Out”

A punk rock drinking song with a real bummer of a chorus for how happy the theme itself comes across.

42) Joyce Manor - “I Think I’m Still In Love With You”

I have no scientific proof, but Barry’s lyrics seem to be getting worse and worse. The drug references are still there, sure, but there’s an almost elementary simplicity to the proceedings. Still, like “Heart Tattoo”, this song doesn’t get in its own way and takes advantage of the basic words to create a big, big hook. You sing along even though it feels too easy at times.

41) Alkaline Trio - “Throw Me To The Lions”

So much desperation in the chorus; this could work as their last ever song.

40) The Bombpops - “Dear Beer”

My favorite opening line on this whole list -- the sweet and simple “I’m about to hit send / I’m waiting for the weekend”. Before you know it, a full blown self-loathing chorus. It’s got it all.

39) Foxing - “Lambert”

In quiet awe listening to this masterpiece of a song. Saw this band way up close in 2018 -- here is a picture:

Hello, Foxing

38) Lucero - “To My Dearest Wife”

Civil War soldier or rigorous rock and roll touring schedule? Either way, the Lucero singer misses his wife and family, and he’s gonna let you know they’re on his mind. I saw them open for Frank Turner in 2018, and he played their new album front to back -- before it had been released -- as their entire set because “I promised to do this when drunk on Instagram”. Gotta respect a man with principles.

37) BlocBoy JB f/ Drake - “Look Alive”

Favorite Drake hook of the year. BlocBoy JB... less necessary. Also kinda crazy to think we didn’t know who producer Tay Keith was at the beginning of 2018; definitely made his impression felt by the end.

36) The Front Bottoms - “Tie Die Dragon”

As psychedelic as I’ll ever get. Unless it’s, like, The Beatles. But that’s different.

35) The Lawrence Arms - “Laugh Out Loud”

Released on their Best Of record (legitimately titled “We Are The Champions Of The World) and an “Oh! Calcutta!” b-side from 2006, TLA prove even their leftovers can be a main course.

34) Tinashe f/ Future - “Faded Love”

I know he’s a rapper and she’s a singer, but nothing is more illustrative of how much harder women have to work compared to men than the 1:36 mark when Tinashe sensually sings “Let’s just feel this feeling”, doubled with Feature’s auto-tuned ass doing the exact same thing, only 10x worse. Not enough to taint the song, even a little. His verse, however...

33) Chance The Rapper - “65th & Ingleside”

Chance -- who almost always makes the correct choices -- did this super annoying thing where he released a bunch of songs in single batches in 2018.

“But Bobby, he gave you tons of free music! Why are you complaining?!”

Because we couldn’t easily sequence it, bruh. Look at this shit!:

Not even Drake would pull this stunt. EP next time, Chano.

Anyway.

Fun lines, really contagious beat, and a few types of flows; he spazzes at the end.

32) Complainer - “Drunk (Again)”

Gotta love when a song can’t start until multiple beer cans crack. These guys are a tiny band inspired-by-but-better-than Jeff Rosenstock, and I hope they get so much more traction.

31) ScHoolboy Q f/ Kendrick Lamar, Saudi & 2 Chainz - “X”

I LIVE ON TEN

Always read this title as the letter X even though the word “ten” is used 40 times in the song.

30) KIDS SEE GHOSTS (Kanye West & Kid Cudi) - “Reborn”

From Kanye’s only useful project in 2018 comes “Reborn”. Luckily, it’s mainly Cudi on this track (chorus/bridge/a verse). It feels like Ohio’s son is breaking through... or breaking out; verging on real triumph over his demons. Kanye, meanwhile, is surprisingly understated (read: good) and fits into all of his parts like a non-OJ glove. The sparing use of Yeezy reminds me of how the master himself used to feature people like Chief Keef just enough to harness the talent but not enough to ruin the song or do too much. Those alpha days appear to be way in the rearview now.

29) Travis Scott f/ Drake, Swae Lee & Big Hawk - “SICKO MODE”

Stacey Dash, most of these girls ain’t got a clue

This joins “Mo Bamba” in the Top 2 of Rap Songs That Need To Be Played At All Parties In The Year 2018. While “Bamba” is more consistent -- seriously, “SICKO MODE” is four songs in one -- almost nothing tops hearing the start of this and immediately anticipating the rest (like the opening of “Tuesday” when that was hot). The third part is probably my favorite. #likealight

28) SOB X RBE f/ Zacari & Kendrick Lamar - “Paramedic!”

Our third selection from the “Black Panther” soundtrack. Second favorite beat of 2018; I can’t not move the second it drops.

27) Drug Church - “Unlicensed Hall Monitor”

Favorite guitar leads of 2018. It’s as sleek as the vocals are gruff.

26) Matt And Kim - “FOREVER”

Was a dead tie between this and the equally emotional “Youngest I Will Be”. But this one has a vid -- and they make the best vids. This song also references the 1992 Dream Team. Our world will never be shit if they stay a part of it; first time I’ve came close to tearing up so far. These two inspire.

25) The Ramblin’ Boys Of Pleasure - “Joyce Jawbreaker”

Speaking of turrs, my band of 14 years released our maybe last song ever in 2018. Written in Maine, titled for Joyce Manor and Jawbreaker, and about lost love, Chicago, futures, playing music with your brothers, tiny hands, and found love. We also did a video:

24) Ariana Grande f/ Nicki Minaj - “the light is coming”

I really, truly am not excluding “thank u, next” to be contrarian. While I agree that is her defining song of 2018 -- and biggest hit to date? -- “the light is coming” is so much more unique. It goes in so many directions while the hook ties the rope around you a hundred times. Yep, I’m right.

23) Laura Jane Grace & The Devouring Mothers - “Apocalypse Now (& Later)”

Wish I could forever keep this song’s opening line as my mantra: You make me walk away from the hate I carry.

22) Restorations - “Nonbeliever”

Another band that should be bigger, so they can always be free to do anything they want. This song will always boil down to this part, which captures the push and pull of 2018 America:

I love your protest lines Oh, but who has the time? We all saw the same thing at the same time, okay? Got a partner for starters And a kid on the way Can’t be doing all this dumb shit no more

For how crass, clumsy, and non-rhyming that concludes, the song itself ends dire.

21) The Get Up Kids - “I’m Sorry”

One of my favorite videos of 2018. Similar to “Apocalypse Now (& Later)”, I’m not sure if it’s about a love interest or a kid. Does it matter? No. But it does to me.

20) Antarctigo Vespucci - “Freakin’ U Out”

A band name for the ages. With Chris Farren (of Fake Problems) on vox and Jeff Rosenstock on instruments, this song could power a car -- or at least one person who didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.

19) Bayside - “It Don’t Exist”

Anthony Raneri has a new grill, but this song feels 50 years old. A classic in real time.

18) The Carters - “APESHIT”

Is this artsy, all-time vid somewhat undermined by the Migos ad libs?

Yes.

/makes note to maybe dress up like this for Halloween next year

17) Post Malone f/ 21 Savage - “rockstar”

This song is so good -- albeit misogynist and also bad -- it makes me genuinely eager for a 21 Savage verse. And though I love any bars relating to his 12-car garage...

my favorite 21 savage quirk is his yearly 12 car garage updates:

2016: “why you got a 12 car garage?”

2017: “they like ‘savage why you got a 12 car garage / and you only got 6 cars?’”

2018: “why you got a 12 car garage? / cause i bought 6 new cars”

(via @ottergawd)

...his intro line is just so, so terrible: “I've been in the Hills fuckin' superstars / Feelin' like a popstar”. You know that’s... not really a rhyme, right?

16) Andrew McMahon In The Wilderness - “Ohio”

/will always, always death stare that dumb name to start any Andy section

Ah, but if we did start with a lyric?

Katie’s counting crows

This song is about leaving the worst state for one of the best. But if we’re doing that, why do we feel so melancholy?

15) Kendrick Lamar & SZA - “All The Stars”

You've gotta be mesmerizing to make Kung Fu Kenny look pedestrian, but SZA's galactic hook does just that.

14) Frank Turner - “1933″

Frank isn’t from here, but he’s setting out to remind us of where this all began.

13) The Wonder Years - “Sister Cities”

As far as pop punk legacies are concerned, The Wonder Years’ is secure. There is no longer necessity to churn out bangers; they’re already on the Mount Rushmore. Still, they go. Every part of this song is essential: the build up verses, blown out chorus, Panic! At The Disco 2005-era hi-hat off-time drum transitions, end-of-the-rope bridge. The true standout is the closing of V2:

I'm guarded like I'm wounded, my first instinct's always “run” I wanna turn to steam I wanna call it off I wanna lighten the dark I wanna swallow the sun

Good guitar leads add even extra.

12) YG f/ 2 Chainz, Big Sean & Nicki Minaj - “BIG BANK”

“Alexa, what does big bank do to little bank?”

The highlight line from each:

YG: “Ayy, I set the bar, I'm the fuckin' bar / Look in the sky, I'm a fuckin' star / I don't fall in love 'cause I be lovin' hard / Do everything like my shirt, extra large”

2 Chainz: “Big shit like a dinosaur did it”

Big Sean: “I'm rare as affordable health care”

Nicki: “Told em' I met Slim Shady, bagged a Em / Once he go black, he'll be back again”

Let this also be remembered as the song that created a Madden controversy.

11) Dean Summerwind - “Parked By The Lake”

What is there to say about the legend that is Dean Summerwind? With only one song on Spotify, he’s batting a clean 1.000. Calling this genius feels like an understatement. It’s real, it’s parody, it’s persistent, it’s ours.

10) The Dirty Nil - “Bathed In Light”

The Canadian Local H. Reaaaaaaaally wanna see them live in 2019.

9) oso oso - “gb/ol h/nf”

I stylized oso oso as “Oso Oso” last year to stick it to their frontman Jade, but a year later, I’ve lost the energy. Blame Ariana Grande. This song -- which stands for “goodbye old love, hello new friend”* -- has my favorite chorus of the year. It’s so simple, it’s obvious: “But I still come through, when you want / And if I serve no use, where do I get my purpose from?”

Also, this is indie/pop/punk/rock’s version of “SICKO MODE”: got more parts than “The Wire”.

(* - had to look that up multiple times in 2018 and never retained, despite it being the bridge of the song... I didn’t notice)

8) Kacey Musgraves - “Space Cowboy”

If any song *survives* the existence of this list, I hope it’s this one. Kacey has this predictable-yet-surprising way of taking existing tropes and co-opting them with her own twist. Homegirl is like the Jim Nantz of pop/country in that way.

7) Direct Hit! - “Welcome To Heaven”

This song makes me want to die to, you know, check. Blustering chorus, fascinating premise, and charged up while simultaneously patient/in control.

6) FIDLAR f/ The 90s - “Are You High?”

This not being on Spotify was one of the worst non-Michigan football things to happen to me in 2018. Man, I hate Michigan football.

5) Drake - “Nice For What”

- My favorite beat of 2018 (New Orleans bounce, ftw)

- My favorite release of 2018 - Drizzy said it would drop on a Friday - We were thinking morning or midday (not late evening, in the last remaining hours of the day, when were were faded and had waited so long it was almost forgotten -- it hit perfect) - On top of that, he also sampled Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” -- the same week Cardi B did the same -- with even more pulsating results - I will always interpret that as a real or sneak diss, yet no one I know has ever said anything

- My buddy Josh sent a selfie vid of him and his girl and some friends bopping to it; I’ll remember that forever; the moment felt like such an event, as if the world simultaneously celebrated at such an atypical time

- Drake deserves 30% less credit for this female empowerment anthem because of the “these hoes” sample

- Maybe a Top 5 Drake song, all-time

- There is no planet, solar system, or multiverse where 2018 Drake finishes ahead of 2018 Pusha T

4) Pusha T - “The Story Of Adidon”

You are hiding a child.

Let’s not mince words: this is the No. 2 greatest diss track of all time. Pac is No. 1 -- this will not be debated. From there, Nas is DQ’d for “Ether” homophobia, annnnnnd no one else is in the realm. King Push...

- Unearthed a photo of Drake in blackface and uses it as the art for the song - Goes at Drake’s mom (”Marriage is something that Sandi never had...”) - Goes at Drake’s dad (”Dennis Graham stay off the 'gram, bitch, I'm on one”) - Outs Drake for having a child (and hiding said child!*) - Goes at Drake’s baby momma - And -- /gulp -- goes at Drake’s longtime producer 40 for having multiple sclerosis, suggesting he will not be alive soon**

He does this over “The Story Of O.J.” beat... a rather chill backdrop, all things considered.

(* - Drake responded later with the line “I wasn’t hiding my kid from the world, I was hiding the world from my kid” which just isn’t cool at all but is competent enough to win some people back over; /barf)

(** - HOLY FUCK***)

(*** - much debate occurred in the aftermath regarding if Push “went too far”; I was 50-50 at the time but now am 100-0 that it was the right choice; this song is cyanide venom, so why pull back even an ounce?)

Though Drake survived -- turns out the mainstream pop boost is bigger than hip-hop beef -- he took the fattest of L’s on this one.

Really can’t decide on a lyrical ending, so I’m gonna go with two:

Surgical summer.

If we all go to hell, it’ll be worth it.

3) Spanish Love Songs - “Buffalo Buffalo”

In my head, this was gonna end up ahead of The Menzingers, but that would be like putting Greta Van Fleet ahead of Zeppelin. Spanish Love Songs were my breakout band of 2018. They released my favorite album, I saw them as an opener at Sub-T in Chicago, and I promised their bassist I’d see them in Florida at the Fest (this did not materialize). While their vocals and guitar leads sound identical to Scranton’s finest, if you listen to them as much as I did, you’ll realize they offer a sound and perspective* of their own as well.

(* - no one hates themselves more than this singer)

2) The Menzingers - “Toy Soldier”

There’s so much to be sad about these days

/that guitar intro

Followed by the best musical moment of this year: from 0:06 to 0:07 -- the ever-so-slight delay before the band blows it out. Spent a lot of time in 2018 debating if I should change my Twitter bio to “I lost my accent in the plague”. Listened to this song on the floor of the living room on my 32nd birthday; then I read “The Great Gatsby”. From there (at this point, it was past midnight), I realized this sounded like The Lawrence Arms’ “Requiem Revisited”, which was inspired by Naked Raygun’s “Soldiers Requiem”. It’s all a triangle of that perfectly fitting punk chord progression. That’s right: I am Pepe Silvia.

1) Horror Squad - “I Smoke The Blood”

Best song title of 2018. Best song of 2018.

This has 729 views on YouTube -- be the 730th.

Spotify playlist.

Thank you for reading.

[thecutofmylove]

Makes Me Wonder

Brendon Urie/Josh Dun

!Rough Smut Ahead! *Not proofread*

Let’s be real; Brendon was always drinking, so it was no surprise that he was already three-sheets when he received a last minute invite to Pete Wentz’s party. However, that was not the problem. The problem arose when he made refuge in Pete’s kitchen next to the punch bowl and liquor bottles. His smug and cool façade, along with Brendon’s usual party antics, had attracted a crowd of eager teens that had quickly surrounded a beautiful brown-haired Lyndsey and a sloppy unbalanced Brendon. But despite his degree of drunk, Lyndsey continued to cheer loudly and offer him shots, which he swallowed gratefully.

After three empty vodka bottles and the passing of numerous songs, none of which Brendon could recall, he was pulled away from the table and into the crowd of dancing teens in Pete’s living room. He hadn’t been entirely sure of who dragged him away from the supply of alcohol, but he assumed it was Lyndsey. So despite his intense desire to drink more, Brendon gained his footing and began dancing in the middle of a group of girls. He was slightly off-beat and he didn’t recognize the song but the girls didn’t seem to notice nor care.

He did, however, gain the attention of a slightly trashed Pete who stumbled over with a solo cup in hand and a Cheshire grin. Brendon hadn’t noticed the shot glass in Pete’s hand until he was standing before him, offering the amber colored liquid and introducing a blue-haired boy. The raging bass from the speakers covered the boy’s name but Brendon flashed the nicest smile he could muster in his drunken stupor and immediately downed the shot with a quick toss of his head and a flick of his wrist. Pete then began to babble on about something that vaguely sounded like music production but Brendon suddenly felt too nauseous to focus.

The cool air flowing in from the window hit him, hard.  He stumbled, falling backwards into the same group of girls he danced between. He was shoved forwards again, the quick change in motion making him dizzy, and in that moment Brendon felt sick.

He stumbled backwards again, falling into Gerard who caught him with a knowing chuckle. Pete continued to talk, thinking Brendon had only drank too much. “He’s coming into the music industry man, he’s got great stuff. I asked him to open for us on our next tour.” Pete clapped the blue-haired boy on the back, looking to Brendon for his response.

“Yeah man, that’s great,” Brendon said between the lurches in his stomach. He pressed a closed fist to his mouth and held onto Gerard’s shoulder for stability.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gerard asked. “You’re the life of the party. Having an off night?”

Before Brendon had the chance to respond, he was tightly squeezing his eyes shut, fisting Gerard’s jacket, and his jaw was coming unhinged. The alcohol he has spent the past two hours downing was now racing back up and spilling itself all over Pete’s living room floor and the leg of the mystery boy's jeans. Brendon’s stomach emptied it’s contents with three long, painful heaves and it wasn’t until he opened his eyes that he could see the hardwood covered in a sickly color and the boy's jeans were dripping with it. “Jesus I am so sorry,” He groaned. He pressed his fist to his mouth again as he tried to gauge the boy’s emotions. “Let me help,” Brendon offered, releasing his hold on Gerard and grabbing into the boy’s wrist.

Brendon quickly pulled him from the living room and stumbled out the front door with the stranger in tow. “It’s not that big of a deal,” The boy assured when they crossed the threshold. “It happens. I live close by, it’s fine I can change no problem.”

Brendon chuckled, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulder. “You’re a funny one.”

“/Special/ one,“ The boy corrected sarcastically. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I guess they just left out the part where you’d vomit on me the first time we meet.”

Brendon laughed thickly, a deep rumble emitting from his growling stomach. “Can’t say the same,” He slurred. “What’s your name? Didn’t catch it.”

“Josh,” The boy answered. He snaked an arm around Brendon’s waist for support as they continued to walk across the lawn and onto the sidewalk.

“Right,” Brendon agreed sheepishly. “That’s what they forgot to say.” He clasped his hand over his mouth again, squeezing Josh’s shoulder as a sign to stop walking. Josh shifted his hips so he was sideways, standing about a foot away with a hand on Brendon’s lower back and the other on his chest. He looked down to meet Brendon’s wide eyes. He opened his lips to speak but Brendon shook his head. “I’m good so far,” He said quietly, sounding more like a self-assurance rather than assuring Josh.

“So far ?” Josh joked. “You just  threw up.”

Brendon shook his head again. “Onwards!” He commanded, removing his hand from his mouth and pointing ahead in the direction he believed was proper. Josh responded with a chuckle. “We’re making good time,” Brendon laughed.

Josh replaced his arm around Brendon’s middle and turned to continue the walk. He only lived five houses away from Pete’s and Brendon was right; they made it to Josh’s front door in just under fifteen minutes, only stopping to adjust his grip and to allow Brendon a minute to regain his footing.

When they got to the front door, Josh let go of Brendon and leaned him against the building while he dug the key out of his pocket. He swung the door open and in no time Josh was leading Brendon through the front door of his flat and upstairs to his bedroom where he offered Brendon the couch to sleep on. “You’ve had way too many to drive home. It’s cool man, I can wash your stuff and you can grab some breakfast tomorrow. My flatmate, Tyler, won’t mind.”

Josh looked down at his vomit covered jeans and waved dismissively. “I should go get changed.” But before he could leave the room Brendon was bounding across the room and closing Josh’s door. Without words, he made quick work of removing Josh’s vile jeans and throwing them across the room. “Woah, woah,” Josh tried with palms flat against Brendon’s chest. “Man you’re drunk, what are you doing?” But Brendon didn’t stop. He roughly crashed their lips together and dragged Josh onto the couch with him.

Brendon pulled Josh into his lap, growling lowly as he began grinding his palm against the crotch of Josh’s boxer briefs. “What makes you so special?” Josh gasped at the contact, his head lulling backwards. “Look at me!” Brendon growled. Josh did as he was told, bringing his face down to look Brendon in the eye. “I asked you a question.” Brendon pressed his palm harder into Josh at the exact moment he brought his other hand down on Josh’s left ass cheek. Josh yelped at the smack. “Huh?” Brendon asked. He smacked Josh again on the same cheek, harder this time. “I said what makes you so special?”

He stopped moving his hand against Josh’s semi-hard member and moved his hand around, crashing it down on his right cheek this time. “Everything!“ Josh cried as he desperately circled his hips against Brendon’s hip for friction.

Brendon pressed his face against Josh’s cheek. “You spread your legs when you’re told?” He asked through grit teeth.

“Yeah," Josh groaned.

"Because you’re a good little boy?” Brendon asked, sliding his hand between them once again to palm at Josh’s erection. Josh moaned in response, his hand holding firmly on Brendon’s forearm. “Is that what makes you special?” Brendon asked again.

“Yeah," Josh moaned again. "Yes Bren-”

Brendon’s hand came crashing down against Josh’s ass again, much much  harder than the last three. “Yes /daddy/” He growled.

“Yes daddy," Josh mimicked.

Brendon grinned at the name, a shockwave of pleasure shooting through his core. "Get on your knees,” He spat, shoving Josh off of his lap. He complied yet again with Brendon’s orders, scrambling down to kneel before the older boy. Brendon wasted no time ripping his belt off and pulling his pants down, exposing his erection. Hung directly in front of Josh’s face was Brendon’s dick, flushed, curving upwards, and the head an angry red.

Josh began to shake with anticipation as he watched Brendon remove his t-shirt next. He looked down into Josh’s eyes and knotted his fingers into his blue hair. “Take it like a good boy,” He ordered.

Josh shakily rose both of his hands and wrapped them around the base of Brendon’s cock. Brendon was big  and Josh wasn’t sure he could handle it all so he began with the tip, taking the head into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the slit. Brendon’s grip tightened and he jerked Josh’s head forwards, signaling for him to go faster. Josh began bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard on every inch he could fit into his mouth. Brendon groaned loudly, his grip slipping for just a moment as Josh worked his tongue along the underside. But he wanted more. He slid his other hand into Josh’s hair and began pulling him farther and harder. The slurping sounds coming from Josh’s mouth fueled his desire and Brendon began rocking his hips against Josh’s face. “Fuck,” He groaned.

Josh hummed in response, sending vibrations throughout Brendon’s length and causing his head to roll backwards. That was Josh’s first mistake. At the newfound pleasure, Brendon took a tight hold on his hair and pulled Josh against his hips until Josh’s nose touched his skin. Brendon could feel himself hitting the back of his throat. “God,” He moaned, holding himself deep inside of Josh.

He could feel Josh’s throat contracting around his member as he gagged and Brendon loved every second of it. “Good boy,” He praised in a low, raspy tone. Josh’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and his stomach lurched with every gag. He thought he was going to pass out, but before too long Brendon was yanking his head back almost fast enough to give Josh whiplash.

Josh gasped for air as soon as Brendon was clear of his throat and he found himself falling forwards into Brendon’s hip for stability. “Gunna have lots of fun with you,” Brendon chided, yanking on his blue hair and slapping his erection against Josh’s lips. He yanked on Josh’s hair again, pulling his head back so he could meet Brendon’s eyes. “You like lots of fun?”

Josh nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Brendon growled, thrusting himself into Josh’s mouth again. Josh responded with a loud, wet gag each time Brendon made contact with the back of his throat. He tried to put his hands on Brendon’s thighs for control, but Brendon swatted them away with a chuckle. “You're my  slut tonight,” He husked just as he pushed himself in all the way again.

Josh’s nose squished against Brendon’s stomach this time. He was in deeper than before and Josh’s gags were harsher and much more dangerous, but Brendon held him there anyway, releasing a long, low groan as he relished in the feeling. Josh tried to pull his head back but Brendon’s grip was too tight. The only thing on Josh’s mind was breathing, the one thing he couldn’t do, the one thing he needed in that moment. “Fuck Josh,” Brendon moaned, a bit too loudly for his own taste but he couldn’t help his own cries of pleasure. He then abruptly yanked Josh’s head backwards and removed himself completely. Josh leaned forward again, pressing his palms into Brendon’s thighs as he coughed loudly, shredding his throat.

Brendon removed a hand to tug the jeans off of his legs and Josh used every second to catch his breath. Brendon tossed his jeans aside, kicking his shoes across the room with them before returning his hand to Josh’s cotton candy hair. “We gunna have fun?” He chided.

“Yeah," Josh moaned, mouth wide open.

"Huh?” Brendon asked, slapping Josh’s cheek with an open palm. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt but it caught Josh off guard for a moment and he lost his composure. Brendon slapped him again. “You gonna be good?”

“Yes," Josh moaned loudly, his own erection throbbing between his legs.

"You want it?” Brendon asked, slapping the head against Josh’s lips again. “Yes," Josh nodded.

"Beg,” Brendon demanded, yanking on Josh’s hair and dropping the younger boys jaw.

“Please," Josh yelped. "Please daddy!”

“Good boy,” Brendon praised before quickly thrusting himself into Josh’s mouth. “Good boy,” He groaned. Josh slid his hands up Brendon’s legs to the back of his thighs where he began tugging. “You like that?” Brendon asked. Josh nodded an affirmation, humming around Brendon’s length again. “Fuck I can’t take this,” Brendon spat. “Take off your underwear.”

Brendon took a step back and plopped down on the bed as he watched Josh eagerly remove his boxers. Once he was naked from the waist down, Brendon curled his finger in front of his face. “Come here.”

Josh did as he was told, shyly walking to stand between Brendon’s legs at the foot of the bed. Brendon was slowly stroking himself until Josh came within reach.

He then wrapped his hand around Josh’s cock loosely. Josh hissed at the contact and moaned deep within his throat.

“You’re going to take it like a good boy or you won’t cum. Do you understand?” Brendon growled.

“Mhm," Josh nodded. "Yes daddy.”

“Good. Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

Josh kneeled on the bed, skin crawling with the anticipation of being touched. When Brendon finally climbed onto the bed behind him he was quick. He only spent a few minutes prepping Josh and stretching him with his fingers. He pumped his fingers slowly, scissoring his fingers inside of Josh’s tight ring of muscle. Josh moaned at the feeling, rocking his hips onto Brendon’s fingers.

He only went up to three and Josh felt nowhere near ready enough when Brendon removed his fingers and popped the cap on the bottle of lubricant.  He poured a generous amount into his palm, coating himself and then slicking his three fingers to slide inside of Josh.

Josh moaned at the contact, he could feel Brendon brushing against his prostate each time he curled his fingers. “I wanna hear you,” Brendon demanded as he removed his fingers again.

Josh felt unpleasantly empty, but he knew it wasn’t for long as he could feel Brendon lining himself up and pressing gently against the tight ring of muscle. “What do you say?” Brendon asked with another slap to Josh’s ass.

“Oh god, please daddy.” Josh begged, rocking himself backwards against Brendon’s head.

“Please what?” Brendon teased.

“Please, give it to me daddy!”

“Good boy,” Brendon called as he slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside of Josh.

Brendon didn’t like the angle, however, so he pulled out and shoved Josh hard on his back, knocking his arms out from beneath him. Josh’s face made contact with the bed and when he bounced back up, Brendon yanked his shoulder and flipped him around. “I want you to look at me,” He Growled.

“Yes daddy," Josh cried. Brendon slid himself back inside, keeping his eyes on Josh’s face as he did so. His face was beat red, his jaw dropped, and his eyes were squeezed shut as tightly as he could. The moan he released was so strangled because it came from deep within his gut at the exact moment Brendon slammed against his prostate. Brendon’s rocking hips felt so good. "Oh god don’t stop daddy, don’t-” He clawed at Brendon’s shoulders, crying out without thought of his roommate across the hall.

Brendon placed his hands on the bed on either side of Josh’s ribs to gain better leverage and Josh took the opportunity to drag his nails down Brendon’s back and back up. The pleasure was mind-numbing and Josh couldn’t hold back. He moaned loudly, ending in a squeak each time Brendon slammed his hips against the back of his legs. “Look at me,” Brendon repeated. Josh opened his eyes. Brendon groaned at the sight;  his pupils were blown out and his eyes were glossy. He was wrecked.

Brendon slowed his hips, pulling himself out completely and sliding just the head back in. Josh writhed beneath him, whining and grinding his hips down to try and take in more of Brendon’s length. “Ah ah ah!” Brendon warned. He took ahold of himself, slapping his erection gently against Josh’s ass cheek. “You’re getting loud. Did you want to be his slut too?” Brendon growled. Josh was taken back by the question.

His eyes opened wide and he opened his lips to protest but Brendon stuck his middle and third finger into his mouth, pressing them against Josh’s tongue. He hooked his thumb under Josh’s chin and yanked, pulling the younger boy into a sitting position. Josh wrapped his hands around Brendon’s wrist and gasped at the unpleasant pressure on his tongue. “You trying to get him hard? You want him to fuck you instead?”

“No daddy," Josh squeaked.

"You want me to call him in here?” Brendon asked through grit teeth. Josh didn’t respond, he was too awe-stricken. “Let’s go get Tyler, shall we?” Brendon teased, releasing his grip on Josh’s jaw and shoving him backwards on the bed.

Josh bounced at the impact and whined at the total absence of Brendon’s touch. Brendon climbed off the bed and began making his way towards the door. “No, daddy please,” Josh begged. “I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be quiet.” Brendon froze, turning to look over his shoulder.

“Will you?” Brendon asked.

“Yes daddy," Josh whined. Brendon bounded back to the bed, falling harshly onto his knees and bouncing Josh on the mattress again.

"I don’t believe you.” He leaned down and bit Josh’s lower lip. Josh moaned. He wrapped his arms around Brendon’s neck and his legs around Brendon’s waist.

“I promise. Daddy please I want it, I want it so bad.” Brendon groaned and bent down to roughly kiss the younger boy. Josh groaned into the kiss, bucking his hips upward to grind their dicks together. “You want it?” Brendon teased. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes!” Josh moaned, a bit loudly. “Yes daddy I want you inside me.” Brendon groaned lowly in the back of his throat. “Please,” Josh continued. “I want you so bad.”

Brendon lined himself up between Josh’s ass cheeks and slowly slid himself back inside. His head entered first with a ‘pop’ and Josh suddenly felt so full already. He wrapped his hand around the back of Brendon’s neck and squeezed to steady himself. “God,” Brendon groaned, dropping his forehead to rest against Josh’s. “You’re so tight." Josh hummed in response, taking his  turn to bite at Brendon’s lower lip.

Brendon pushed himself in slowly this time, relishing in the soft sounds Josh released as he adjusted. His teeth sank into the tender flesh of Brendon’s lip as Brendon began to pull himself out and ease back in, creating a steady rhythm of push and pull. Josh whined; somehow it felt better now than it had before when Brendon was jerking their bodies against one another. "Where?” Brendon groaned. “Tell me where.”

Josh released Brendon’s lip and opened his mouth to speak but all that he could manage was a long, high pitched whine of “Brendon.” He dug his nails into Brendon’s shoulders and used his legs to pull Brendon deeper, earning a light chuckle from the older boy. “T-turn me over," Josh whined. "P-please.”

Brendon gently kissed Josh’s lips and then his cheek and then the nape of his neck as he slowly pulled himself out enough for Josh to turn over onto his stomach. “Relax baby boy. You’re being so good for me,” Brendon whispered against Josh’s shoulder blade; the smell of vodka on Brendon’s breath surrounding them. “Such a good little slut,” He husked.

Josh smiled at the praise. “I want to be good for daddy,” He grinned. Brendon bent down to kiss his cheek. “Such a good boy.” He kissed his way down Josh’s shoulders, to his shoulders blades where he gently nibbled on the skin as he spread Josh apart.

Josh’s breath hitched in his throat. He knew what was coming and he didn’t want to wait any longer. “Please daddy,” He cried.

“I love hearing you beg.” Brendon moaned. He slowly pushed himself inside of Josh, releasing a moan louder than he’s comfortable making, but he didn’t stop. He’d been teetering on the edge of his climax since Josh took him down his throat and he couldn’t imagine Josh being much farther behind. He began moving slowly, pushing his hips against Josh’s ass with each thrust to get as deep as he could. He hadn’t hit Josh’s G-spot yet, he could tell by his level breathing and the steady string of lights moans. So Brendon slapped Josh hard on his ass before he leaned down, placing his palms flat on the mattress and pushing in harder at a new angle.

Suddenly Josh’s jaw dropped and he was moaning out loud, clawing at the sheets to fist them as tightly as he could. “There!” He cried. “Right there!”

“There?” Brendon asked with a grin.

“Yeah," Josh moaned. "Right there dad-” Brendon slammed his hips down, cutting Josh off to earn another moan. He began pounding into him at a relentless pace, pistoning his hips faster and deeper with each thrust and eliciting beautiful moans from Josh’s mouth.

“God, yeah!” He cried. “Daddy I’m so close," Josh moaned. Brendon leaned down and bit Josh below the ear in the same moment he reached down and wrapped his hand around Josh’s throbbing length. He began jerking Josh in time with his thrusts. He could tell Josh was getting close because he could feel Josh contracting around his cock. "Fuck,” He moaned. “You’re so close Josh I can feel it.” He tightened his grip on Josh’s dick, pumping him faster "Cum you little slut, I want you to let go.“

At the okay, Josh stopped holding back. Brendon pushed him over the edge with a single swipe of his thumb over his slit and Josh’s jaw was dropping. He tightened his grip on the sheets and threw his head back, coming in spurts over Brendon’s fist and the bed below.

Watching Josh’s face twist into one of sheer pleasure, coupled with Josh tightening around his member pushed Brendon over the edge. He continued to jerk Josh through his orgasm while his hips stuttered with his own. He moaned loudly, his arm giving out beneath him. He collapsed on to Josh’s back with a groan. "Jesus Josh.”

Josh hummed back, completely out of breath and covered in sweat. He slipped out from beneath Brendon’s body and cuddled up to his side. Brendon chuckled at Josh’s affection, the liquor still clouding his judgement. He reached beneath himself and pulled the top sheet free of the mattress to wipe Josh’s stomach clean. He then balled it up and threw it across the room. Again, Josh cuddled closer.

Brendon rolled onto his back and closed his eyes; he was exhausted. Josh slid closer, draping his arm over Brendon’s stomach. He then shyly tugged Brendon closer. He giggled, “So does this mean you’re interested in my music?”

Brendon laughed again, a deep rumble that bounced Josh’s cheek on his chest. “You uh, you could say that I’m interested in a lot more than your music, Josh.”

[reytonbleyer]

The Things We Do For Love - Chapter Seven

The worst part of loving someone is realizing you need to let them go. Unless you didn’t have to… Unless you never knew.

ff.net // wattpad

CHAPTER SEVEN: Time Ain’t No Healer

I can't breathe.

That was the one thought in Riley's head as her eyes shot open. For a couple terrifying seconds she feared she was drowning. However, as her blurred vision found back some focus Riley recognized the familiar fairy lights dangling over her bed. She sat up startled, trying to even her breathing only to find Maya staring at her, an empty bucket in her hands.

"What the hell?" She shouted, looking down at her soaked clothes and mattress.

"Morning, Sunshine." Her best friend wore a delighted evil smirk, which along with the sarcasm dripping from her voice only made Riley angrier "You might wanna get up and change, Josh will be here in twenty and I don't think your parents will appreciate the new look."

Suddenly realization hit her. Family brunch. Riley jumped up and ran to the bathroom, she could be mad at Maya later. Right now, number one priority was to make herself look minimally presentable for her parents and her smudged mascara clearly wasn't helping her case. So she dived into the shower and removed her makeup as best and fast as she could, rushing back to the room to try and find something to wear. Lucky for Riley, Maya had an outfit picked out for her already.

"What time did you arrive last night?" Her voice was serious as she handed the brunette a pair of jeans and a blouse.

"Are you for real?" She snatched the clothes from Maya's grip.

"Riles..."

"Don't know, Mom." She snapped, turning away from the blonde.

"Okay, then how did you get home?" As silence filled the space between them, Maya grew even more frustrated "Riley! I'm serious! Talk to me!"

"I don't know, ok?" She replied irritated, putting on the blouse "I was with Chris, he must have dropped me off, I just... can we not do this right now?"

Riley could tell Maya was worried and she knew her friend had the right to be, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to apologize. Instead, she walked past her and back to the bathroom, she had a hair crisis to avert and less than ten minutes to do it.

"You can't even remember how you... ok, this needs to stop." She stood by the doorframe, her eyes locked on Riley's through the mirror.

"Maya..."

"I'm serious! This isn't like you!" Maya's crossed arms and knitted brows matched her warning tone as she took two steps closer to her friend.

"Stop! Just stop okay?" Riley yelled, slamming the hairbrush against the counter and turning around to face the blonde "So I got drunk, big deal! I got home safe, everything is fine, just drop it! My head hurts like hell, I feel like throwing up my guts and I'm about to put on a happy face for my parents when really all I want to do is sleep this freaking hangover off, so I really don't need you to judge me right now!"

"I'm not judging, Riley, I'm worrying myself sick over you! This is the third time you do this, you go out, you don't tell anyone where you're headed and then spend the night drinking yourself senseless! I understood it the first time, when Lucas... well, when that happened. But now..." Finally, Maya's expression seemed to soften as she drifted off, studying the way Riley's lips turned into a thin line at the mere mention of his name.

"You're freaking out over nothing." Riley's voice suddenly lacked any kind of emotion. She turned back to the mirror, pulling her hair up in a ponytail "And I do tell people where I'm going. I just said I was with Chris last night."

"Of course you were." Maya mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Look, just because you're jealous I'm friends with him doesn't mean..."

"That's not what this is about and you know it." Maya cut her sharply "It's been two years, Riley. I've done my best to be there for you, to be a supportive friend, but I can't help if you won't let me. You're shutting me out, time and again! I feel like I don't even know you anymore! And I don't know what you think you're doing or what you're looking for in order to move on, but I sure as hell know you won't find it on the bottom of a red solo cup."

Riley was speechless as she stared at her best friend through the mirror. Maya's eyes were tired and distant, worse, they were hurt. I'm worrying myself sick over you. It was true, she could hear it in her voice, see it painted all over her face. For the first time since waking up Riley felt truly guilty.

She was never quite the drinker. She would have a drink or two whenever she went to a party with Maya, Josh or Chris and sometimes a glass of wine with her parents on special occasions. Riley Matthews was a fixer at her core and she wasn't one to turn to vodka for comfort or tequila for advice, no, she worked through problems; she solved them. Well everyone's problems but her own. Those she mostly ignored, as if pretending they didn't exist would eventually have them vanished. However, every September, on this one particular night she failed to convince herself of such act. On such dreadful autumn evening, Riley found alcohol to be the only thing that came anywhere near close easing her pain. So she drank. One night a year she allowed herself to get drunk enough to forget, even if for just a few hours, the horrible secret she'd been carrying around in her heart for the last two years and its painful consequences.

Oddly enough, the most mortifying night of the whole year for Riley was probably one of the happiest to her best friend. God, she still recalled waking up the morning he left...

- x -

Riley felt like crap. As she rolled out of bed and crawled to the bathroom, the brunette was a hundred percent sure she had never felt quite this miserable in her entire life. She sat on the cold tiles for what felt like eternity, embraced to the toilet, wondering through her hazy state of mind how could she have hit rock bottom so fast and suddenly. When all of her stomach contents had been flushed away, she forced herself to get up and shower.

Riley spent the day alone, locked in the room, fighting a losing battle against all thoughts Lucas, the pain in her chest growing stronger by the second the more sober she felt. As Riley replayed the previous night, over and over again, she knew there were some missing pieces to the puzzle, but the main image remained painfully clear in her head. She left the party with every intention of meeting Lucas. Even if just to see him one last time before he left. Maybe he wasn't as mad anymore, maybe they could still be friends, maybe Lucas had thought things through and understood A&M was the best thing for him.

Soon enough, she found her feet planted on the sidewalk before his building as Riley looked up to Lucas's room. It was nearly 3am and the lights were still on, the boxes pilling on the other side of the glass, blocking most of his window. A tear escaped her eyes as the reality of it all settled in... she couldn't do it. She couldn't put both of them through that suffering for nothing; she couldn't talk to him and risk ruining everything. Even worse, she couldn't risk hurting Lucas any further. So she thought to herself one last quiet farewell and turned around.

Still inebriated from a mix of alcohol and emotion, Riley wasn't too sure where she was headed or what she was doing until she was well into her fourth shot of tequila on a random club downtown and by then it was too late. From the remaining of that night she vaguely recalled getting a cab, falling on her bed and crying herself to sleep.

Her next memory is waking up to the sunrays on her face the next morning, her heartbeat immediately quickening its pace as she reached for her phone to check the time. 8:13 am. He was gone. She felt a salty tear roll down her cheek to her lips, soon followed by many more, her whole body aching as she sobbed against the pillow. She couldn't get up, she couldn't eat, she could barely breathe through the pain in her chest. Riley wanted nothing more than for that terrible day to end and yet time went by impossibly slowly. She was left alone with her thoughts and memories until dawn, when Maya came through the door with a beaming smile.

"Man, I love college!" She announced walking in, still in her dress from last night, only with an additional plaid shirt over it "You're never gonna believe it, but the craziest thing happened last night!"

"Yeah?" Riley whispered, wiping her tears away, unable to put on a smile. She sat down on the bed, thankful that Maya seemed too blinded with bliss and too busy getting rid of her outfit and makeup to notice her poor mood.

"Ok, so after I beat him on beer pong for, I don't know, the billionth time, Josh said he had a special place to show me. So he took me to the roof and for the first time the whole night there wasn't anyone around. We sat there and talked for hours and it wasn't just that, Riles, he was looking at me unlike anyone ever did before. It was like we were seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time. Then the sun started to come up and he was silent all of a sudden, and I mean absolutely and completely mute, just staring blankly ahead for minutes straight, so I asked him what was wrong and he said" Maya brought her hands to her face and took a deep breath as if to compose herself, her never wavering grin growing even bigger with the memory "He said he was trying to gather up the courage to do something he had waited for what felt like a lifetime to do."

"Oh my God." Riley's eyes widened "So you...?"

"We kissed!" She giggled like a kid, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe it herself "And it was everything I could have dreamed of and more! You know, the two of us all alone, the sun rising behind us and, God, I'm not exactly a hopeless romantic, but it was perfect, Riley. It was like everything suddenly made sense, all the years and the waiting fell into perspective, like they meant something, they were worth it. And then..."

"And then?" She willed Maya to continue.

"He asked me if I remembered the promise we made on the Ski Lodge. And of course I said yes. So he said and I quote" She closed her eyes as if to focus on reciting every word correctly "We've waited forever for our someday to come, we've both been playing the long game on our own for far too long and I don't want to waste another second so Maya Penelope Hart, if you still want me to, I would love to call you my girlfriend."

"Maya, that's... that's beautiful! I'm so happy for you!" She truly was. Riley finally managed to smile, genuinely happy for her best friend.

Seeing her like this... it brought a warmth to Riley's heart, one she now felt like a stranger to. But it wasn't simply that, Maya was different. She had been since being accepted to NYU. Maya had always had a spark, one many people missed and just as many others misjudged. But Riley had always seen something more within her, she had always believed in her, even more so than her best friend did herself. Now, as she looked at Maya, she no longer saw that weak yet promising spark, she saw more, she saw a glow unlike any other shinning behind her blue eyes. She had seen glimpses of it for a while, but it was like everything had finally fallen into place in her life and it was beautiful to witness. She had a family, she had a future, she had love. Maya, the fierce Amazon warrior whose biggest battle had always been against herself had not only found hope, she had seemingly found peace.

"It's aunt Maya from now on." The blonde said serious for a moment, before bursting into laughter and launching herself onto Riley, hugging her as tight as she could "Oh and I'm sorry I was out all day, I just really wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend. That's so weird, I get to call him boyfriend now and..." As she let go of the hug, Maya studied her best friend's features up close for the first time since walking in. A second later it downed on her. Something had happened "Riles?" Maya's voice was careful, both her hands cradling Riley's cheeks as her eyes examined every inch of the brunette's face. She had been crying "Riley, what's wrong?"

There was no point denying it. She didn't have the energy to pretend. But more than that, Riley had to say it. She had to admit it out loud. She took a shaky breath, her eyes locked on Maya's as the words she had chased out of her brain the whole day left her lips.

"It's, hum, it's Lucas. He... he took a plane this morning. He's gone."

- x -

"I just wish you would talk to me." Maya whispered, snapping Riley back to reality. The blonde simply averted her eyes, turning around and closing the bathroom door behind her.

"There's nothing to talk about." Riley whispered to herself sadly, unable to look in the mirror.

Of course there were things to talk about. The problem was Riley had no idea how to say them. Even thinking about him hurt, so if anything she wanted to forget. Still, knowing it was impossible, she was just choosing to try and ignore it. Most days she managed to get by, put on a good enough act to even fool herself that she was moving on, getting over, but sometimes... I was just too much.

She knew she was shutting Maya out and part of her hated it. However this other part knew she needed this to survive life without Lucas. Hell, she did it to everybody, Josh, Farkle, Zay, Izzy and virtually anyone else that played a role in her relationship with Lucas. Even her bond with her parents had suffered in the process. She knew by closing herself up from them she was jeopardizing some of the most important relationships in her life, but Riley just didn't see another way. She had tried for almost a year to go about her life as usual, to remain perfect smiley Riley all happy and unstained, but she was no longer that girl. She wasn't sure she even knew her anymore.

Being with her friends suddenly felt like work. They were ever lasting reminders of Lucas and being around them... she was losing it. Hanging out with them and pretending it wasn't killing her, the memories of him each of them brought, meant Riley had to constantly play her character in order not to mess with their group dynamic and eventually she was too exhausted to keep the act going, which lead to Riley pulling herself out of the equation altogether.

She barely talked to Izzy or Farkle anymore, but that she could blame that on the distance, given they were always busy being Harvard's most brilliant couple. She hadn't talked to Zay in months, even though he was still in New York, though their relationship had been strained from the moment Lucas hopped on that plane to Texas and things had only deteriorated since. She saw Josh often but he was usually with Maya and third wheeling was a good way to avoid any focus on herself and her own issues, while the two love birds were too swept up in their own little world. But Maya... Maya was right there. All the time.

That was the hardest part. Lie to her best friend that she was okay or push her away when she tried to bring him up. She had long given up on making peace with her own choices, so Riley decided it was better to just try and leave the past where it should be, behind her. A task hard enough on itself and nearly impossible when your best friend is constantly rubbing it on your face. Riley knew, deep down, Maya had a point. But it hurt. And Maya's intentions, though the best in the world, were still no painkiller. Two years later and it still hurt just as much as it did then, if not worse. So yes, Riley had given up trying to fight or explain; two things Maya constantly pushed her to do. So she shut her out. Repeatedly.

But of course, Maya being Maya, she needed someone to blame, someone who wasn't Riley. So she did. She blamed Chris. She blamed the one person who Riley hadn't shut out of her life, the one she now seemed to confide in, the only one who made her look slightly more like her real best friend, not the shell of a human being hiding behind a happy mask she now shared her room with. And God, did Maya resent him for it.

"Josh's waiting outside in the car." Maya called out from the room, her voice breaking the Riley's trance yet again "We better get going."

- x -

She was doing a great job. Hiding the hangover from her parents was way easier than she thought it would be. What was really hard, however, was sitting for hours seventh wheeling her parents, Maya, Josh, Auggie and his girlfriend Ava, or wife, or whatever they were by now. Still, Riley smiled and talked when necessary, keeping just the right amount of distance from the conversation, as she had been doing for years now.

So far so good, all major awkwardness or arguments had been successfully dodged, plus she had already texted Chris instructing him to come pick her up in ten minutes tops. She knew Maya and Josh would probably want to celebrate their two year anniversary after this and she didn't want to butt in. Or maybe it was the fact today was kind of an anniversary to Riley as well, only not such a great one.

She didn't want to risk being left alone with her parents either, for she would be much more vulnerable to their 'harmless curiosity' about her life. She just had to make it through a few more minutes, if she laid low and didn't call too much attention, maybe this time she could avoid...

"So what about you, honey, any news you want to share with us?"

Of course. How naïve of her to believe for a second she would get through today without an interrogation. To anyone else this was simple small talk, anything but a loaded question. But it wasn't, it was her mother's opening to what would soon become a series of inquisitive assumptions on Riley's personal life, and love life if you will, or actually the lack of thereof.

"Well, Chris and I are working on a new project together." She answered quickly, before Topanga could elaborate on the topic. Yes, she would talk about Chris, her mother liked Chris, Chris was a good buffer.

"Really? What is it?" Her mother smiled interested, resting her chin on her hands, as Maya shifted uncomfortably by Riley's side.

"Well, you know the animal shelter he volunteers downtown? They really need some extra money to keep it going so I offered to help. I'm taking some pictures, we'll make some flyers and hopefully get people's attention. We are planning on doing a fundraiser near Thanksgiving."

"That's great! How is it coming along?" Her father chimed in, with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Everybody else had stopped eating at least half an hour ago, but not him, oh no, not Cory Matthews. He wouldn't rest until he saw the mash gone.

"Good, it's coming along great, we're still looking into a place to hold the event, but..."

"Why don't you take the bakery?" Auggie suggested, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hum, I don't know, I hadn't thought about it. Could I?" Riley looks back at her mother, who's already nodding at her.

"Of course, dear! I love the idea and I'd be more than happy to help! I'm not opening on Thanksgiving's Eve anyway, I thought I'd give everyone a bigger break to be with their families. The space is all yours!"

"Wow, thanks, Mom! I'll talk to him about it first, but I don't see why we wouldn't take it." Riley cheered. This brunch was going way better than anticipated.

"Oh trust me, he will be over the moon with the news. I may not live with him anymore, but I'm still best friends with the guy and Chris can't shut up about that shelter to save his life. Though to be fair, lately he won't shut up about you either." Josh chuckled, raising a brow at her. Riley could feel her mother smirking from across the table, so she braced herself for it and, sure enough, a second later Topanga was back at it.

"Since we're on the topic, why is it you never bring Chris over?"

"Mom..."

"I'm just saying, he's quite literally the only person from college you ever talk about and we rarely ever see him!" There it was, the passive aggressive tone, the hidden meanings between the lines. It was like déjà-vu, why did she have to do this every time?

"I know what you're thinking, Mom. Don't go there. We're just friends."

"I'm just... I'm worried about you, baby." She admitted, a sorrowful look on her eyes.

"I know. You've made that pretty clear. But I'm fine, really." As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Riley looked down at the message, a breath of relief escaping her "It's Chris. He's downstairs, so... hum, I guess I'll see you guys later. Thanks for the brunch, it was delicious." Riley jumped from her seat, grabbing her purse by the couch and before anyone could say anything she was already at the door. She was about to leave when her gaze hovered over the calendar, reminding her yet again of what day it was. She turned around, a bittersweet smile on her face "Oh and Maya, Josh... happy anniversary."

A moment later she was outside. She flew through the doors, welcoming the cool autumn air, feeling like she could really breathe for the first time since she got out of bed. Down the steps of her parent's building Chris was waiting, resting against his car with his hands buried in his jeans, his usual smirk shinning its way to her. She didn't know how and she didn't know when, but at some point during the past two years the guy standing before her became the closest thing she had to comfort. She skipped down the steps and over to him, giving the tall man a hug he didn't hesitate on reciprocating.

"Wow, ok, someone's happy to see me!"

"You're a lifesaver. You know that, right?"

"I guess I'll take your word for it. So, what are our plans today? Red Planet Diaries reruns? Cuddle Bunnies and chill?" He mocked, earning himself an eye roll from Riley.

"Ugh, why do I ever tell you anything?" She faked frustration, chuckling along with him.

"Because we're friends and you trust me. Plus, I told you about my embarrassing kiddy ballet classes. I'd say we're even." She laughed even harder this time, that Riley Matthews genuine laugh that could quite literally end wars. Man, he loved it "Seriously though, what do you want to do?"

"Can we just drive? Go away somewhere and, I don't know, talk. I... I need to not be here today." She replied, more serious this time. He simply smiled, opening the car door for her.

"Whatever you want, little Matthews."

[phclemenza-blog]

Track 2: The Shackeltons (2008)

On July 12, 2008, I was attending the annual WXPN XPoNential Music Festival on the beautiful Camden, NJ riverfront (and I do mean that unironically). It was a sweltering day even into the late afternoon, which it so happened to be. I had just finished watching Teddy Thompson, son of Richard and Linda Thompson, on the main stage and sauntered over to the smaller marina stage. I saw about 50 hearty folks arranged in desultory clumps about the semicircle of grass surrounding the stage lined with small open shops where some were avoiding the sunlight and awaiting the next band.

When they arrived, I wasn’t sure if it was the actual band or just their roadies checking the instruments. They were a young, ragged, trippy unit wearing bits and pieces of army fatigues, that seemed to wander in individually. As they started to play, I took in the stage that had a sort of free-standing awning structure made out of pipes that was festooned with flowers—daisies?—for some reason. The stage was littered with flowers as well and they were stuck in the singer’s mic like the straws in the game Kerplunk. But that was quickly forgotten as the singer arrived on stage with an old corded telephone in hand (base and handset), fully clad in black—back cap, long-sleeve black shirt, and black pants—and proceeded to stomp and cavort frenetically about the stage.

The ragtag crew quickly came together and started rocking out with what, I believe, turned out to be the opening track to their album, “Your Movement” and I was rapt for the next half hour. The bands at the festival were only allocated about that amount of time before the act on the other stage had their turn to perform. I remember that the Shackeltons went off to uproarious applause, the concert ending with lead singer Mark Redding first loosing seemingly the entire stage of flowers on the audience on the appropriately named “Get Out”, then smashing the phone that he had used to sing into intermittently and had swung about like a Roger Daltrey microphone continually throughout the concert, and finally joyously wandering through the audience as the song ended.

I knew that I had just seen one of the greatest concerts of my life, and I had to go up to the singer shake his hand and tell him how much I appreciated it. It seemed that I made his day as he embraced me and earnestly told me, “Wow, that really means a lot.” I had one of the warmest feelings I had ever had leaving a concert. I quickly strode over the merchandise table and plucked down ten bucks for their album. I would have bought a T shirt, too, if they had any. (Note that though I did recognize the bulk of the songs on the album after the concert, it was hard to reconstruct in what order they were played, and unfortunately, a playlist is not available online.)

The Shackeltons were formed in Chambersburg, PA June 2004 with founding members Mark Redding (vovals), Eric Fisak (guitar), Dan Schuchman (bass), Josh McDaniel (bass), and Jonathan Slick (drums).1 They took their name from a misspelling of the name of the explorer, Sir Ernest Shackleton. Shackleton was of the “Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration” and was knighted for the then-closest approach to the South Pole but after a number of attempts, including a sea-to-sea attempted crossing, never actually made it to the Pole and died of a heart attack at 47 on his final attempt.2 I imagine this made him all the more romantic a figure to the boys.

Within a few months, the Shackeltons had secured their first live gigs and recorded a five-song eponymous EP in January 2005 at Chambersburg Church of the Brethren with Michael Mateer as engineer. Two months later, they self-released a 6-song live set Live on 103​.​7 that they recorded as part of a radio broadcast. Their first full-length LP, Red, was again self-released January 1, 2006 after they returned to the Church of the Brethren again with Mateer. The band continued its prolific pace releasing a six-track EP, Madeline, one month later again with Mateer but at a different Chambersburg church, the simply named Clifton Newell's dad's church.

Each of these releases had early version of songs that would end up on The Shackeltons: ”Emergency” on The Shackeltons EP; Live versions of “Soft Heart”, “Bloke”, and “Emergency” on Live on 103.7; “Bloke”, “Your Movement”, “Soft Heart”, and “Yellow Cadillac” on Red; and “Madeline”, “The Ship”, “The Breaks”, and “Tremble” on Madeline, all but one song. The band continued to hone the songs through touring.

2006 witnessed the band’s first lineup change as two members, Josh McDaniel and Jonny Slick, left for college. Justin McDaniel replaced his brother on bass and 15-year-old Sean Hallock took over on drums.1

The band got their first break debuting the lineup at the 2006 CMJ Festival at Sin-é in New York (October 31 – November 4) when John Richards of KEXP and Loveless Records (Seattle) caught their act: “After seeing The Shackeltons live I realized why I started a record label. When you see and hear a band this full of energy and passion you can't help but be moved.”1 Richards signed the band in 2007, and they travelled to Seattle for a reportedly exuberant live set at Neumos that also appeared on KEXP. The next stop was Los Angeles to record their first album for a label with the help of Sam Jones, producer, and Tom Biller, who had won a Grammy working with Kanye West, producer/engineer.

The album was released January 29, 2008 and received some notable reviews. They were named a “Breaking Artist” by Rolling Stone:

The Shackeltons provide a stout combination of clean, straight-lined production and cacophonous bursts of sound on their self-titled debut. Their blasts of angst, which are equal parts danceable bliss and seering [sic] noise, are held together by the jittery, literate lyrical musings of frontman Mark Redding.3

Spin made them their featured artist of the day on January 18, 2008.4 They later published a review praising the Shackeltons: “Palpable desperation is one of rock’n’roll’s most valuable commodities, because it’s impossible to fake... A half-dozen times on their debut, the Shackeltons sound completely convincing, and that’s about six more times than most bands ever manage.”5 Myspace made them a featured band for a week, while they averaged 15,000 plays a day.4 The music blog New Rock News 43 called them “freakin' amazing”6 and Hybrid Magazine said the band is “[i]nfused with a life rarely seen” with a sound “like the bastard product of so many intelligent influences”7:

There is something inherently different and good about The Shackeltons, this indefinable essence, that even if you could quantify it, no other band could replicate the success. Part simplicity, part commitment and purely movement, it just works so well to create this beautiful album that invades you as a listener. This energy pervades the record like a nervous tension that hovers over the quiet sections and swoops in for the kill during the breaks.7

Reviewers compared the band to the Pixies, Joy Division, Interpol, Fugazi, Television, The Cramps, Smashing Pumpkins, Sonic Youth, and Cage the Elephant, to name a few. However, “while it may be easy to assign sections to certain forerunners, the completed product is nothing but The Shackeltons.”7 On their first album they were said to play post-punk, new-wave/indie-rock, lo-fi garage rock, proto-punk, they were a band with an “unmistakable CBGB's sound about them” 8. Their style defied being pigeonholed, at least successfully.

So let’s return to that amazing summer concert nine years ago. At the time, I did not know about these stellar  reviews. I just knew that I loved this band. I kept an eye out for new releases or even any mention of the Shackeltons. I scoured all of my sources to no avail for years.

Their next release was not until 2014—Records, which is also very good. Meanwhile all of the members of the band turned over except for lead singer Mark Redding.

So how does a band with this much promise, that is this good live, that got recognition from major media outlets, how does such a band not make it big? Apparently, such is the music industry today. Twenty years ago, the Shackeltons could have become the next big thing. Now, they may be a cautionary tale but man, they have created some great music.

Speaking of which, here are reviews of the tracks of the album, each with a link to an audio track (or video for the singles) and with any live versions if available:

The Tracks

1 Your Movement (4:12):

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLHnKysY8Ng & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9IAaPNM4Cg (live)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Ek0gD5j28 (live as “Pirate Song”)

You tear my heart in two

But I will always offer you…more

The album opens with a track that lays out the aesthetic of the entire album both lyrically and musically. Musically, the energy of the rhythm section, the tension of the two soaring, crunching, wailing guitars, and the passion and earnestness of Redding’s voice are all there. Lyrically, Redding cries out about love, perhaps unrequited, but with a pure heart and expressed sincerely from said heart. This perfectly introduces the song arc loosely tied to ships and pirates with love and life as an adventure and the Shackeltons in their military garb fighting on love’s side. Or something close to that.

The track itself starts out mid-tempo with sole guitar quietly churning in a repeating riff joined by a nice bouncing bass line and a nice skipping drum beat. Redding then quietly joins in. The whole band including a second wailing guitar jumps to a crisp crescendo as Redding expresses his love. The song even sounds like a ship sailing along in a lapping sea until they run into an emotional squall.

Check out the second live clip to see Redding walking through the festival audience high-fiving exultant fans. It’s just as I remembered it.

2 Tremble (2:47):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yqVku0NcFI

Certain treasures are never sold

Certain stories are never told

“Tremble” starts out with the high energy of “Your Movement” with a crunchy guitar riff opener and takes it up a notch as Redding repeats over and over about trembling “in these trials of love”. Redding wails throughout except for a quiet bridge that does little to dissipate the energy but rather keeps the tension up until a final chorus. No one mentions them as an influence, but I hear Pink Floyd’s more harrowing, entreating tracks from The Wall like “In the Flesh”, “One of My Turns”, or “Don't Leave Me Now” in “Tremble”. (And I love the sock puppet video.)

3 The Blood (2:56):

https://theshackeltons.bandcamp.com/track/the-blood

I found a rose by the riverside

I picked it up by the thorns and watched the blood go down my fingertips

“The Blood” cuts out the middleman, starting with a quiet intro with the lyrics above, a snare, and bass slowly doing a scale. It quickly turns into a crazed wail with bits and pieces of these lyrics over the band yowling with both guitars doubling each other followed by the bass line as well and crashing cymbals aplenty. The song ends with Redding’s distraught voice crying out. (No sock puppets on this one.)

4 Yellow Cadillac (4:42):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KQJaFrSJNo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G7XuUHMnl6U (live)

All I ask for is the yellow Cadillac

And all I pray for is for you to come back

“Yellow Cadillac” starts out slowly and quietly with yearning and a sense of loss. Again, I hear echoes of “Hey You” from The Wall. Maybe it’s just me. Then after Redding pours out his heart to a single guitar picking out a response, the energy suddenly builds in the music and the voice slowly builds along with it until the entire band is zooming along. It again falters while Redding ponders whether that other person will come back. Then, as if a switch is flicked, he confidently states, “I will see you coming back,” and the music again soars, now in his revelry. It falters again just slightly, then rushes headlong to the end.

I love the stop-start tempo of the song, making use of the Pixies quiet-loud dynamic, and the great, melodic guitar riff towards the end doesn't hurt either. Brilliant song. 6

I particularly remember this song as one of the standouts live.

5 The Ship (3:08):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_aDcxiVmTo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HopCWUcjIA (live)

In the sea of love

It’s going to be cold

“The Ship” is a slowly building, whirling frenzy after Redding calls seemingly everyone on the planet to join him on the ship before it embarks for its wild journey. The pirate motif is back in spades. The ship seems to run aground amid chants of the mighty ship being lost, but it is only for a moment as the band takes the song to an even wilder faster height before a single fading note trails off at the end.

6 The Breaks (2:35):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhrI9Ff3Jyo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6F4nIL3SEtU (live)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIFdXebALbg (live)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbxtKz07qzI (live)

I can’t sleep at night

My heart breaks all night

Redding chants out a confession from his heart until he shutters to “the breaks” and the band halt and pop along with him. Guitars then slash and stutter and crunch. Then suddenly the band breaks down like the protagonist’s mental state, getting slower and slower until it stops a la The Cure’s “Grinding Halt”. Then a little bass riff revives him. The music builds again while singer breaks down to a wailing ululation.

7 Emergency (5:05):

https://theshackeltons.bandcamp.com/track/emergency-3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twaa6KeD7Yg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpqwx4Q_xKE (live, 2 pts)

Well, my home is more than rented bricks

And my heart is more than repeated beats

And my love is more than just some fleeting cries

“Emergency” again finds the protagonist at a low point a la the fits and starts of The Wall. Redding is singing into that prop phone that I mentioned from his live set as a quiet, defused, plaintive voice over a melodic guitar as the song starts.  The rest I will quote from elsewhere since they say it better:

The key to this entire winning style is the ability of this band to tease and release the builds into a worthy end; the best analogy I can come up with is the dawn. You see this beam of light on the horizon that grows and grows, you can feel the potential the inevitable warmth, and finally the sun comes up and it is beautiful and bright and everything you wanted. "Emergency" is such a case that should be studied by other bands in hopes of catching a glimpse of where they should be going.7

[A]n easy-starting song that rides on Fisak's melodic guitar progression as Egolf's lays down a rhythm track. One thing I love though, is the way Redding speaks the vocals at the beginning of the song. I'm reminded of a Johnny Cash/Jim Morrison sound, where Redding here is trying to get something deeper out of the lyrics. Trying to push the poetry through to the audience, and I love it. Among it all is McDaniel's bass, softly keeping time in the background as Hallock's drums are slow, almost lazy, but still managing to find the snare and cymbals at the right times. Definitely a new-wave-inspired track, and I'm almost tempted to label this track at least as shoegaze-alternative. It reminds me a little bit of Smashing Pumpkins through the lazy beat and heart-felt, poetic vocals. And with everything speeding up towards the end, it's definitely one of the must-hear songs on the album.6

The song runs the gamut of human emotion and is like the dawn that the reviewer above mentions. The second review mentions a Smashing Pumpkins feel to the song, and a certain kinship to “Tonight Tonight” is definitely palpable.

8 Soft Heart (3:29):

https://theshackeltons.bandcamp.com/track/soft-heart-3

Think about the pain of now versus the pain of being alone

And I’m not sure if I’d rather be with you or ever alone

“Soft Heart” differs from the rest of the album’s style quite a bit. First, it is mid-tempo which almost seems slow compared to the rest of the album especially the couple of songs preceding it. The guitars sound a bit different, more “Peter Gunn”-ish and the bass is of the walking variety. Redding still has the plaintive, forlorn lover chanting out lines in fits and starts and the guitars still soar. This is where the comparisons to Joy Division come in and they are earned:

But then just when you think you have the Shackelton lads figured out, the Joy Division-ish "Soft Heart" comes peaking around the corner. Like quite a few alt bands of the early 21st century, the Shackeltons are well versed in late-'70s/early-'80s punk history.8

9 Madeline (4:48):

https://theshackeltons.bandcamp.com/track/madeline-2

Madeline, I swore I’d never use your name in a song

Celebrate your last night

“Madeline” starts off with a great fuzz bass line and the band joins in with dual blaring, weaving guitar lines and an almost disco drum beat with shimmering cymbals and danceable beats. It builds to a driving, almost soaring, wall of sound. The song stops midway, and after a solo guitar riff blares out, it must be restarted by Redding’s chants into wailing. As the singer asks, “Can we ever find our way back?” the song soars back to its previous heights and keeps building until an abrupt cymbal crash to end it.

By the way, he broke his promise to Madeline about not using her name in a song, but the way that it takes him 45 seconds in the beginning of the song to tease out that one line makes you feel the weight of it. Other than the breakdown in the middle, the rest of the lyrics are just bits and pieces of these two lines. Redding’s lyrics are never more painful and never more exultant.

What I love most about this track, besides the catchy guitar riffing, is the incredible ambiance it exudes. It just feels like you're falling into the music, and that's something that will take a song right to the top if it can do it right. 6

10 Bloke (3:11):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8A_uYXGvp8  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAw0-GvKVpk (live)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mELNdObe7Ps (live with Get Out)

I was looking for you and your love so true

You better watch out for a bloke like me

Reverberating wails start this one out followed by blaring, weaving guitars, a walking bass line, and a propulsive drum line. All are standard fare for the Skackeltons to this point, but if there is one song that can be said to be a bit slick this is it. “Bloke” sounds more like a single than anything else on the album, just another great track this late in the album tells you how good this album is.

11 Get Out (3:04):

https://theshackeltons.bandcamp.com/track/get-out-2

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4i6jg12vnnc (live with flowers)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mELNdObe7Ps (live with Bloke)

Arms are falling to the side

We are slow dancing without touching

“Get Out” sounds like a last track from Elastica’s great 1995 hook-laden classic album. It’s completely the Shackeltons but the hooks are getting heavier as the album goes. It is a great number to end on and fades out with a little organ playing something that sounds like it’s from a carnival. This is just as Redding finishes chant-wailing about love.

Watch the first video to experience Redding’s manic marching and dropping to his knees to wail into his prop phone. Watch the second live video to see him throwing flowers in the audience at the end. It’s great stuff, just as I remembered it.

Fisak's and Egolf's guitars are distorted pleasures to my ears, blending new-wave/indie-rock with blues rhythms and garage-rock beats. Hallock's drums are crazy here, reaching John Bonham-like levels, and as McDaniel's bass just keeps pumping and pumping, I'm reminded of John Entwhistle by his style. Above it all are Redding's frenzied blues-rock/funk vocals. I can't decide whether he's singing or screaming, or a mixture of both, but the bottom line is that I love it, and whatever he's doing, he's doing it right. 6

Credits (from the CD liner notes)

Eric Fisak, guitar

Sean Hallock, drums

Mark Redding, voice

Justin McDaniel, bass

Daniel Schuchman, guitar

References

1 Sonicbids: https://www.sonicbids.com/band/theshackeltons/

2 Ernest Shackleton on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Shackleton

3 Rolling Stone Breaking Artist review by Kyle Anderson, January 30, 2008: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/breaking-artist-the-shackeltons-20080130

4 The Shackeltons Wikipedia page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shackeltons

5 Spin review by Josh Modell, February 25, 2008: http://www.spin.com/2008/02/shackeltons-shackeltons-loveless/

6 New Rock News 43, “Friday Night with The Shackeltons”, November 20, 200: http://newrocknews43.blogspot.com/search?q=shackeltons

7 The Shackeltons review on Hybrid Magazine: http://www.hybridmagazine.com/reviews/0108/shackeltons.shtml

8 AllMusic.com’s Shackeltons review: http://www.allmusic.com/album/the-shackeltons-mw0000781522

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