#my favorite one to say is WHATS THAT STUPID ROCK and LETS RIDE A TIGER DOWN THE RIVER EUPHRATES

[scruffiandraws]

My Aquabats vocal stim comp 💀

[lesbianlovelanguage]

YOUTUBER AU I’m such a fucking sucker for those. It can be anything you want really. Maybe they are friends doing a challenge or something and they end up kissing (or more ;)) or they could meet each other at like a creator even and take a pic together and everyone starts to ship them... :)

HI! Anon I am so sorry, life has been *general handwaving* a MESS. But, I’ve finally gotten most of my shit together and look! A fic! Finally!!! I hope you enjoy two ridiculous boys being ridiculous.

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“You guys asked for it, and here it is. The explanation to Bendy and the Ink Machine! Now, I’ve watched a ton of playthroughs of this, especially The RatKing’s, as well as played through it myself, and I think I’ve got it.” 

Such a simple statement, it made it through both of the editors as well as Steve and Dustin themselves without raising any red flags. But as with everything, once it had been released on the internet it became fuel for fans to break apart and over analyze. 

The comments started pouring in, the standard mix of support and people trying to break apart his theory. But one comment in particular would stand out and begin something so much bigger than itself. 

Twenty minutes after Steve had pressed upload, someone with the username Random Hoe posted a comment saying Awe! A collab between you and Billy would be totes amazing!! While an innocent comment in itself, it began to pick up steam as people ranted and demanded for the two popular youtubers to interact more. It turned from video ideas to outright shipping within two hours, and only five hours after the video had been up, people began tagging Steve on Twitter with everything from edited screen grabs to fanart and video edits, all about Steve and Billy’s secret yet undying love for each other. 

Steve had almost quit Youtube as the fanbase for what had been dubbed “Stilly” steadily grew and became all the more ravenous. There were less and less comments and reactions to his theories, whether movie, video game, or even book related, and more and more comments about how he needed to do a collab with Billy ASAP, and how he’s queerbaiting, and how it’s okay to come out, it was 20Gayteen after all. He had tried to do damage control, but it only made things worse. 

And then someone showed Billy, and Steve not only wanted to quit Youtube, but also crawl under a rock. 

Billy’s only reaction to someone sending him a picture of Steve and Billy during a live stream was “Nice art, like the hair,” but Steve could have sworn his mouth twitched down in a grimace before Billy recovered his composure. 

But Dustin had convinced Steve to keep going, and with two months of no recognition or new content, the frenzy of Stilly shipping died down. It never disappeared, but no one sent anymore art to Billy and stopped tagging Steve in all of their posts. That had been in February. 

Vidcon was in June, and Stilly was the least of Steve’s worries. He’d been asked to host a panel on the new game show he and Dustin had begun hosting on Youtube TV about pop culture trivia, and then host a live episode with various Youtube guests as competitors. It promised to be relatively simple, a simple explanation of the origin and behind-the-scenes and a simple Q&A session followed by what he spent every Thursday doing for the past two months. And it was, him and Dustin breezing through the panel bouncing off of each other and the first round of Did You Know? You Don’t Say? flying by as the famed beauty guru aced almost every question. But once the second guest stepped on stage, Steve knew it was all going to go to shit. 

Because Billy Hargrove, The Rat King himself, swaggered out on the stage in flip flops and an Everlast crop top and flopped into the contestant’s chair with a smirk. Steve froze, mouth suddenly drier than a desert. 

Luckily, Dustin didn’t even stutter. “Ah! The next victim. Should we go easy on him?” He waggled his eyebrows as he asked the audience. The audience shouting brought Steve out of his daze, and with a shake of his head, he turned and spread his arms out wide. 

“Well then, let’s begin. So, Billy, Do you know what the rarest MnM color is?” 

The cocky smirk melted off of Billy’s face, replaced by one of thoughtful determination. He’s silent for only a moment before he looks up and says, “Brown, like your eyes, Pretty Boy.” Steve feels his pale skin flush with heat, but he coughs and tries to play it off.

“Quite the charmer there, Rat King. Luckily, your lines are actually true. One point! Let’s see it!” He calls out and then looks behind him to the television screen currently displaying the scoreboard. A large blocky 1 appears and the audience cheers. 

“Alrighty then,” Dustin says after the crowd dies down. “Next question. Billy, Do you know the original name of Istanbul?” Billy chuckles, and shakes his head.

“Easy. Constantinople.”

Dustin fake pouts and looks over to Billy. “None of that Rat King charm for me?” The audience laughs, and Billy chuckles before throwing a wink at Dustin.

“Not quite old enough to ride this ride, bud.” 

Dustin scoffs and shakes his head, making the curls bounce around wildly. “Whatever you say, old man. You did get it right by the way. Let me see another point!” Dustin mimics Steve and gestures towards the scoreboard which now shows a big, white 2. 

“Your turn, Pretty Boy. Give me something hard.”

“Alright. Let’s see.” Steve pretends to look over his notes before seeing the perfect question. “So, Billy, Do you know which two American states don’t observe daylight savings time?” Billy stares blankly at Steve. This was the final question in their lineup, but he had asked for a hard question. 

Luckily, Billy recovers quickly and clears his throat before giving another chuckle. “Damn, I know I said give me a hard one, but I wasn’t expecting that. I’m gonna go with Hawaii and Alaska?” Steve shakes his head and gives a small sigh. 

Dustin gives a little cheer, and then runs over to a table off to the side of the stage where they have a cue card that the contestant has to read off of if they lose. It was Dustin’s idea, the You don’t say? part of the title. It’s his favorite part of the show, because they get to see their contestants say some ridiculous things.

“Well, unfortunately, that was incorrect,” Steve announces over the booing audience. “And, following the rules, you now have to read whatever is on this card.” Dustin hands Billy the cue card with a wicked grin. 

Billy sighs and flips over the card. There’s a moment of silence as he reads over what the card says, and then he looks up at Steve and clears his throat.

“Would a Pretty Boy want to go out with me?” He says in a clear voice, gaze never leaving Steve’s. 

Suddenly too many things for Steve to process happen at once. He feels the heat return to his cheeks and his mouth dry out again, the audience goes wild, and a buzzer sounds, signaling that they were out of time for Did You Know? You Don’t Say? Dustin comes through and pushes a frozen Steve off-stage, where Billy is waiting in the wings. With the audience’s weighty gaze gone, the feeling returns to Steve all at once.

“What the hell man? What was that out there?” He hissed at Billy. The man simply shrugs and gives another one of his trademark smirks.

“Just giving the people what they want, Princess. Try to keep up.” And then he turns around, and walks away. Simple as that. Nothing to it. 

Steve wants to scream. Fortunately, he and Dustin have been friends for years, and he knows all of Steve’s tics by now. The stagehands shoo them from the wings, and he pulls Steve through one of the backdoors to outside the convention center. Somehow, he also procures a water bottle in the hustle, and hands it to Steve once they’re both sitting on the steps outside. Steve takes the water bottle gratefully and chugs half of it in one long gulp. He pulls it away and wipes at his face before sighing. He seems to deflate, like a balloon losing all of its helium at once, and Dustin puts an arm around him. It’s awkward because he’s shorter than Steve, but it’s still comforting nonetheless. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dustin asks quietly.

“I- I’m so stupid. For just a second I thought it was real, but why would it be? What would someone like him see in someone like me?” Dustin lets out a huff before pulling away and turning towards Steve.

“Steve, buddy, pal o’ mine. You’re an idiot. If anything, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a pompous ass for pulling a stunt like that. It’s bullshit.” 

“He could have anyone. Between his paycheck and his pecs, he’s one of Youtube’s hottest content creators.”

“Yeah, sure. But for the sake of alliteration, he also lacks personality. The guy’s a huge dick! And he proved it today. He knew that you wouldn’t shut him down and bitch him out on stage, so he thought it would be funny to pull that shit.”

“Yeah, he is kind of just a publicity-seeking asshole, you’re right,” Steve admits, feeling a little better, and a lot angrier. “You know what, Dusty-Poo? I’m gonna find him, and give him a piece of my mind.” He stands up, itching for a fight and knowing who to go find for one.

“Tha-that’s not exactly what I meant but sure! Go knock him down a peg.” Dustin stands up as well and follows Steve back onto the main showfloor. 

It takes about twenty minutes to find Billy amongst the crowd but Steve sees him, and locks in like a tiger stalking his prey. Or something cool like that. Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have to make a huge scene as he walks up to Billy and gets in his face. 

“You. Me. Conference Room 3. Now,” Steve says, poking a finger in the middle of Billy’s chest to emphasize his point. Billy chuckles, but still follows along as they walk into the empty conference room. Once they clear the doors and Steve hears them swing shut behind them, he turns to Billy.

“Explain. What the fuck was the point of that little,” he wavs his hand around, “stunt you pulled during the game show?” 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Told you Pretty Boy. I gave the people what they wanted. 

“So that’s it? It was a publicity stunt?” 

“You tell me. You’re the one who started the whole thing,” Billy shoots back, still holding on to an air of nonchalance, but Steve can his patience waning.

“You- you mean the stuff from February? When I happened to mention you in one video? You think I meant for that shitstorm to start, for fun and publicity?” 

Billy only shrugs again.

“Okay. Nope. Again, I mentioned your channel one time, as a source. Gave credit where credit was due. I do it for all the channels I watch! I’ve mentioned Nancy’s channel like 8 times, and Jonathan’s too. Never had this shit started with them.”

“They’re married, Steve. Like super married. Of course it wouldn’t. We’re both single, queer youtubers. Of course shit’s gonna stop. Didn’t your agent or whoever look over your video?”

Steve huffs. “Oh yeah, let me just go hire an agent, cause I have such a need for someone to monitor my every move,” Steve snarked. Billy just looked at him like he had failed to add 2 and 3.

“You’re telling me you, part of one of the biggest channels on Youtube, don’t have an agent?” 

“We’re not one of the biggest channels, and we’ve never needed one! We’ve got our team of editors and assistants, no need for some agent.”

“Steve,” Billy says patiently, like he was explaining something to a child, “You have over 4 million subscribers. That’s a big channel.” 

“We’re still not one of the biggest channels, dipshit.”

“Oh, I'm the dipshit? I didn’t start a fucking fandom frenzy apparently by accident. Because I was smart and got a fucking agent.”

“You’re such an asshole.” 

“Whatever you say Princess.”

“Stop fucking calling me a princess!” Steve screams, voice booming in the silent conference room. “Why do you do that? Pretty Boy, Princess, Stevie? Just- just stop with the fucking nicknames. It’s not fair.” The second part of his outburst comes out as a whisper, sounding almost desperate. 

Billy was at a loss for words, but then again, he had always been more of a man of action. 

So he says nothing, only gives a seconds’ thought of what he was going to do, before lunging forward and doing it. 

Steve’s next words are muffled as Billy crashes their lips together with absolutely no finesse, teeth clacking. It probably constituted as the worst kiss Billy has ever had, but as he moves back, Steve grabs a fist full of blond locks and pulls him forward. Their 

second kiss is far better. By no means is it soft, but that was just par for the course with them wasn’t it? 

The kiss comes to a natural ending as they both pull back to breath, before Steve starts to giggle. 

“You really need to work on your pick-up lines, Rat King.”

A soft gasp from the doorway cuts off Billy’s retort, and they both turn to see a girl decked out in Youtube merch, including a jacket with the Upside Down Theories logo on it. She had dropped her backpack, and was open-mouthed gaping at the two. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she frantically gathers up her backpack and shoots out of the conference room. 

“Chances that this blows up online by tomorrow?” Steve asks, turning to the blond next to him. 

“I’m betting in the next two hours, Pretty Boy,” Billy replies.

A wicked smirk creeps onto Steve’s lips as he shrugs and says, “Oops. What was that about getting an agent to help with this stuff?” 

---

Aside from this taking FOREVER, I hope you guys enjoy this! It was tons of fun to write.

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth @smashmouth-hargrove (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[purplesurveys]

666

hi i’m a little drunk/hungover lmao so just a disclaimer if some of the answers sound a lil too out-there

What is your middle name? ‘Middle name’ is always a tricky term given the different naming customs in the Philippines. My second given name is Isabelle, but what means middle name here is basically my mom’s original surname before getting married, and I’m not giving that away haha. What was your first job? I haven’t had my first job but my first legit internship was at a PR firm. What is your favorite pizza topping? It’s not the most popular opinion out there, but barbecue chicken. I tried BBQ pizza once and never looked back. What was the name of your first imaginary friend? Katrina was the name of my first and only imaginary friend. I was annoyed it wouldn’t talk back to me, so I ditched her after like seven minutes. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Tobi, my rabbit. He was a sweet one.

How tall are you? Somewhere between 5′1′ and 5′2″ but definitely not 5′2″. List three celebrities that are your height. Lady Gaga and AJ Lee are sort of my height, but I can’t think of a third one. What was your first CD? Pretty sure it was the Camp Rock soundtrack. If not, it would be Beyoncé’s I Am... Sasha Fierce. Idk, they came out the same year. Does your zodiac sign fit your personality? I’m a Taurus, and I’d say most of the descriptions/habits attributed to Tauruses apply to me, but then again so do the descriptions for all the other signs. What is your zodiac sign? ^ What is your Chinese zodiac sign? Year of the tiger. Does your Chinese zodiac sign fit your personalIty? I never cared for Chinese beliefs, so I don’t know how Tiger babies are supposed to be like. What is your favorite color? Right now it’s pastel pink but I also like black, sky blue, and mustard yellow. What was your first favorite color? Purple, because it was my great-grandma’s favorite and all her stuff used to be purple. Which travel destination is top on your bucket list? Right now, it’s Thailand because of all the museums, temples, and street food. Plus I want to conquer Southeast Asia first before I head out to other continents, haha. Have you ever been on a missions trip? Never. Back in my old school they used to give out envelopes to each of us once a year so those who were willing could donate to fund the people going on such trips, but that’s pretty much my only experience with the whole thing. What's your shoe size? My feet can fit in either size 6.5 or 7 shoes. What grade were you in when you had your first crush? My first legit non-celebrity crush was embarrassingly my Grade 5 science teacher. But if we counted reality in the picture, it was Andi, in Grade 6. What color hair did your first crush have? Black. Does anyone know who your first crush was? Not really. It was a small crush and she’s since migrated and is hella straight, so it would be weird to bring up a crush I had ten years ago. It probably wouldn’t be as weird if we stayed close, but we have definitely drifted apart since then. Who was your first celebrity crush? Ashley Tisdale. And that crush was also the reason Ashley was my favorite girl’s name throughout my childhood and tween years haha. Do you keep a diary or journal and write in it frequently? This is essentially my diary. I wouldn’t say I post frequently, especially when I’m busy with school. I usually post during weekends when I have some free time. What was/were the best years of your life so far? The latter half of high school was great, and so was the second half of my time in college. The thing with me is that my adjustment periods in new experiences usually initially go down messily and miserably for me and it takes a while for me to warm up to the environment and the people. But once I do, I end up having the good time I had been envisioning and wishing for. Do you have regrets? I have one big one, but that’s it. I don’t like storing regrets in my head. What do you regret the most? I’ve always felt sorry for myself for having a hard time adjusting in new places. It something I could never help; my first years in high school were marred by failing marks and having no friends, and my first years in college were also spent having no friends, no place to stay in but my car during my breaks, and a lot of self-pity crying and self-harming in said car. I know it was something I felt and couldn’t get out of during the time, but I wish someone told me to just not be afraid and start doing stuff much earlier. There’s been a number of opportunities that I let fly by me just because I was depressed and moped around all day. While I’m grateful for the experiences I have now, I just regret the fact that I could have had more if I didn’t adjust so badly. Are you double-jointed? Nope. What are you allergic to? No allergies. Have you ever owned a designer purse? A couple, but tbh they are hand-me-downs from my mom. Do you wear contacts or glasses? Glasses. I can’t imagine wearing contacts, I hate the idea of putting, dropping, or inserting anything in my eyes :/ Have you ever had to use an epi pen? I have not. Do you prefer online shopping or in-store shopping? In-store for clothes so I get to try them on or see their actual size; online shopping for literally everything else. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Like I said in a previous survey, I still question it to this day. I’ve been in one relationship so I don’t really have a grasp of what I want, but it’s never bothered me... it’s not something I feel pressured to know or discover. Demisexual seems to fit me best, so that’s what I go by most days. Did you ever dream of running away from home? I did, as most disgruntled, emo, puberty-stricken teenagers do. What color was your first phone? I think the phone itself was gray? but I got it with a red Winnie the Pooh case. Who do you know who is colorblind? I may know someone, but I’m probably not aware that they are. Do you know anyone with Down's syndrome? Yesssss, one of my aunt’s has Down’s and she is the sweetest, most adorable person. How much do you weigh (only answer if comfortable)? The only time this question has been asked politely lmao. I’m a little under 100 lbs. Have you ever been overweight? Never. I’ve always been either underweight or just...healthy weight lol. Name one friend you miss. [continued from yesterday, so I’m definitely not hungover anymore haha] Sofie. She used to be a best friend, so I miss her the most out of all my past friends. Have you ever made a huge mistake? I’d be surprised if anyone also aged 21 hasn’t made a big mistake in their lives. What pharmacy do you use? My family never really needs to go to pharmacies. Our go-to drugstore is Mercury Drug, if anything. Do you take a lot of prescription meds? Nope.

Do you take vitamins? I used to, but my mom stopped buying when I was like 15 or 16. How many pairs of Lularoe leggings do you own? Zero. Do you prefer skinny jeans or jeggings? Both sound uncomfortable, but I’d wear skinny jeans between the two. What color is your Christmas tree? Green. What color Christmas tree do you want to have in your hosuse someday? Just plain old traditional green would be fine. It makes everything feel Christmassy the most. What color house did you grow up in? It’s white with a red roof and a maroon gate. Have you ever been baptized? If so, how and where? Yep. I got a Catholic baptism and if I’m not mistaken it was in a church in Makati. Do you ever feel embarrased and think to yourself, "I'm so stupid"? Duh. Do you think you look better with long or short haIr? Short hair. I actually just got a haircut (my first in nearly two years) and finally got bangs like half an hour ago lmao. What type of wedding do you want? I don’t know about ‘types’ of weddings... but my dream wedding would be big but still traditional, held in a huge venue with lots of flowers with either an all-white or pastel motif (or a bit of both) and 200-300 guests with delicious food and an open bar and a great live band. Who is someone you wanted to be able to trust but just couldn't? An old friend back in Grade 5 who ultimately taught me how much trust is supposed to mean, Marielle. Do you read a devotional? No. What's your favorite devotional? Where did you go on your first plane ride? My family and I went to Boracay. Who is your favorite Disney princess? Rapunzel from Tangled. Are you taller or shorter or the same height as your mom? I’m a bit shorter. Do you wish you could afford expensive make-up? Nah, I never wear makeup so it wouldn’t make sense for me to buy them to begin with. Do you make some of the stupidest decisions? I make at least one every day. What country would you most like to visit? Morocco! Or Turkey. What is your heritage? Filipino. What was your first job? I haven’t had a job. Did you like your first job? What are all the jobs you've had? What are jobs you'd like to have? These days I look for money more than fulfillment, so I think I’d be happy with any job that makes me loaded at the end of the day lmao. Have you ever experienced something supernatural? I have not, but I’ve endlessly heard stories from family and friends who have. Do you believe in God? Absolutely not. Do you love God with all your heart? Who is your best friend? Gabie. Do you make your bed every day? Yeah I do. My mom requires me to and besides, it feels so much better coming home to a neat bed. How do you most commonly wear your hair? I usually wear it down. Which family member did you get your hair color from? All Filipinos have black hair. What is your natural hair color? ^

[obtusemedia]

The best songs of the 2010s: #100-76

Happy 2020! Now that the previous decade has finally finished, it’s time to commemorate the 2010s. The decade in which I grew from an awkward teen to an awkward adult. And a decade with a ton of great music. Let’s dive right in: these are my 100 favorite songs of the 2010s.

#100: “Monopoly” by Danny Brown (2011)

Danny Brown is so delightfully grimy. He’s like a cartoon sewer rat come to life, rapping about pills and making hilariously crude jokes. In an anti-drug PSA, he’d be the sketchy weirdo trying to get a kid hooked on bath salts or whatever. And for a quick shot of his non-replicable style, it’s hard to do better than “Monopoly.”

Rapping over a glitchy, menacing beat with his trademark squawk, Brown lands oddball punchline after oddball punchline. In a span of less than 3 minutes, he threatens to defecate on your tape (and he has to clarify that too — “No, literally, shit all on your mixtape”), compares himself to Ferris Bueller sipping wine coolers and then closes his track by describing a woman’s vagina as “smellin’ like cool ranch Doritos.” And that last insult is the perfect distillation of Brown: the Adult Swim of rap. But much smarter than that would imply.

#99: “Shutdown” by Skepta (2015)

At the 2015 BRIT Awards, Kanye West performed “All Day” with a massive crowd of grime artists on stage, all in black, with flamethrowers shooting fire into the sky. 

Four days after the performance, Skepta — one of the artists on stage with Kanye — released “Shutdown.” It’s a much more fitting song for the intimidating, energized and proudly British crowd of MCs than a middling Kanye non-album cut.

“Shutdown” is the kind of song a rapper releases when they’re at the peak of their powers. Skepta was absolutely at that point in 2015, and so his finest single sounds like a coronation. His gruff delivery isn’t too loud, but it’s firm and confident. He knew he was the best MC in Britain, and “Shutdown” cemented that status.

#98: “Amor Fati” by Washed Out (2011)

Washed Out was one of the brightest voices in the turn-of-the-decade chillwave movement, and with cuts like “Amor Fati,” it’s not hard to see why. 

The big single off his debut, “Amor Fati” gives you a similar sensation as taking a shower: Pure bliss and warmth cascade around you. It’s a bit repetitive, but the song is clearly meant to set a mood more than anything else, so that’s excusable. If you need an entry point into chillwave, you can’t do much better than this.

#97: “Los Ageless” by St. Vincent (2017)

St. Vincent’s trajectory this decade took her from an art-pop weirdo who collaborates with David Byrne to a more mainstream art-pop weirdo who collaborates with Taylor Swift. But in that process, Annie Clark was able to pull her sharpest hooks out and put them in use in deceptively dark songs like “Los Ageless.”

With its sleek new wave production from Jack Antonoff, “Los Ageless” could’ve easily fit on most pop records. But Clark’s atonal, shrill guitar bursts and increasingly disturbing lyrics differentiate it. The song’s themes gradually shift from “lol Los Angeles is fake and plastic” to something more tragic. The desperate (in a good way) chorus says it all: “How could anybody have you and lose you/And not lose their minds too?”

#96: “I Like It” by Enrique Iglesias feat. Pitbull (2010)

I’m aware how ridiculous putting “I Like It” — a disposable, trashy club pop hit most people might not remember — on this list. Admitting I that I love this song probably guarantees that I’ll never get a job at Pitchfork.

But then those fuzzy, cheap synths come crashing in. And Enrique Iglesias sings his sleazy come-ons in an auto-tune slurry. And Pitbull delivers a gloriously ridiculous, very-2010 verse that references both the Tiger Woods cheating scandal AND the Obamas (along with gratuitous Spanish and a Miami shoutout). And then there’s the final touch: a prominent sample of Lionel Richie’s cheeseball classic “All Night Long.” It’s too much to resist.

What can I say? “I Like It” hits all the pleasure centers (including nostalgia, seeing as it came out in the middle of my high school tenure) in my brain. It’s a beautifully stupid, hedonistic highlight of the 2009-12 pop golden age.

#95: “The Wire” by HAIM (2013)

Retro-pop standard bearers HAIM had plenty of great singles this decade. But one of their first, the groovy breakup anthem “The Wire,” is still their best.

Unlike many most breakup anthems, which tend to be wildly emotional, “The Wire” is matter-of-fact. The relationship simply isn’t working, and it’s time to end it. That’s that. You’re going to be okay.

The verging-on-curt lyrics mixed with the Haim sisters’ groovy early ‘80s rhythm makes for a pop jam that’s perfect for any “It’s not you, it’s me” moment in your life.

#94: “Helena Beat” by Foster The People (2011)

I know they represent the mainstream selling-out moment of the magical late-’00s MGMT/Passion Pit/Phoenix moment, but I have a soft spot for Foster The People. Their debut album, Torches, might not have much indie cred, but it’s all-killer-no-filler and stuffed with monster hooks. And despite “Pumped Up Kicks” being the big hit, I’ve always preferred the album’s opening track, “Helena Beat.”

With its shuffling disco beat and Mark Foster’s piercing falsetto, “Helena Beat” is likely about as close as alt-rock ever got to the Bee Gees. The lyrics, which tackle addiction, are much darker than “Staying Alive,” but it’s got a similar sense of propulsion.

And let’s not forget — Foster wrote jingles before starting a band, so he can get melodies stuck in your head. And once you’ve heard “Helena Beat,” good luck getting it unstuck.

#93: “Redbone” by Childish Gambino (2016)

“Redbone” might be the smoothest R&B cut on this list. Which is why the song’s sense of dread and paranoia makes it stand out. 

Donald Glover’s scratchy, passionate falsetto isn’t conventionally pretty, but it works well while singing about some unknown boogieman who’s “creeping.” That’s why “Redbone” was a perfect fit for Get Out, because of its lurking dread underneath the comfortable exterior. This is the song that cemented Glover as being a true renaissance man, rather than an actor with a weird musical side project.

(of course, this still isn’t Glover’s greatest musical contribution — that would be the iconic “Troy and Abed in the Morning” jingle. Especially the night variant.)

#92: “Do You” by Spoon (2014)

Spoon has been America’s most consistently great rock band for the past two decade now. Even calling them “consistent” is practically a cliché.

So all you need to know about “Do You” is that it’s another solid Spoon song in a vast catalog of Spoon songs. Lead singer Britt Daniel is still effortlessly cool, the guitar-driven groove is simple and it all goes down easy. By 2014, Spoon had nothing left to prove, except how long they could keep up their streak.

#91: “I’m Not Part of Me” by Cloud Nothings (2014)

Cloud Nothings’ finest moment is four and a half minutes of pure angst and crunchy guitars. Squint hard enough, and “I’m Not Part of Me” is one of the closest approximations to ‘90s alt-rock. And while the Ohio band isn’t necessarily reinventing the wheel here, refining what made past music so great can be just as effective.

#90: “Hello” by Adele (2015)

Despite only releasing two albums this decade, Adele casts a major shadow over the 2010s. Although I find both those records to be a little on the bland side, there’s a reason she was/is a juggernaut. And the example of her prowess is “Hello.”

“Hello” has everything you’d want in an Adele song: It’s about not getting over a breakup, a very relatable topic, and Adele gets to show off her cannon of a voice. But it also has a secret weapon compared to other Adele ballads: ‘80s power-ballad production! The bombastic chorus has more in common with Heart’s “Alone” than any of Adele’s previous hits, and it’s a perfect accompaniment to one of the decade’s most melodramatic singles.

#89: “Slumlord” by Neon Indian (2015)

Despite putting out two essentially perfect albums this decade, Neon Indian’s mastermind, Alan Palomo, doesn’t really have that one mind-melting single. Yes, “Polish Girl” was a decent-sized indie hit, but it’s nowhere near his best.

But “Slumlord” comes damn close to perfection. It’s not quite as heavy on the melted-VCR aesthetic of other songs on Palomo’s best album, Vega INTL. Night School, but it makes up for that with an irrepressible ‘80s techno groove. “Slumlord” is one of those songs that could ride its beat forever — and it kind of does, with the “Slumlord’s Re-lease” coda following it on the album. It’s a nocturnal synthpop jam that even those allergic to keyboards couldn’t resist.

#88: “The Bay” by Metronomy (2011)

While most synth-weilding indie acts were trying to ape MGMT’s high-pitched fever dreams in the early ‘10s, Metronomy decided on a different, sleeker path with their 2011 album The English Riviera. That album’s best single, “The Bay,” is an immaculate blend of silky smooth yacht rock and nervy, tense new wave. Those two opposite styles shouldn’t work together, but Metronomy managed to pull it off regardless, creating the perfect beach anthem for awkward hipster Brits.

#87: “bad guy” by Billie Eilish (2019)

I expect the 17-year-old Eilish will likely be remembered more as an icon of the 2020s than the 2010s, as she has a long and promising career ahead of her. It’s like how Lady Gaga is much more of a figure of this decade, despite her earliest hits arriving in 2009. But “bad guy” — the kind of left-field, innovative pop single that signals a new era — came out in 2019. And it’s too damn weird, catchy and just plain fun to leave off this list.

#86: “Latch” by Disclosure feat. Sam Smith (2012)

It’s a bummer that Sam Smith turned out to be such a bore, because “Latch” — his introduction to the world — is pure electricity. 

Smith and fellow Brits Disclosure, who provide the pulsating, sensual production, were a dream team on “Latch.” All Disclosure needed to do was give Smith plenty of room to unleash his golden pipes, complete with a few futuristic touches. Smith delivered on his end, proving his worth as one of the best vocalists for conveying drama on the dancefloor.

#85: “Need You Now” by Cut Copy (2011)

No, it’s not a cover of the Lady Antebellum hit of the same name. 

There were plenty of ‘80s-inspired epic synthpop bangers this decade; some groups made their entire careers off of them. But what sets Cut Copy’s “Need You Now” above the rest is its sense of patience. It’s an incredibly slow burner, building the tension with a thumping beat and calm vocals until it all explodes with a dazzling climax nearly 5 minutes in. Af that moment, the Aussies fulfill their promise with a euphoric release of synths and thundering drums. 

It’s not a complicated concept for a song, but Cut Copy executed it perfectly.

#84: “The Mother We Share” by CHVRCHES (2013)

Glasgow new wave trio CHVRCHES never really lived up to their promising 2013 debut album, which opened with the anthemic “The Mother We Share.” But man, what a way to start a career.

"The Mother We Share” is all icy synths and furious drum machines, the sounds bouncing off each other like a hall of mirrors. And lead singer Lauren Mayberry’s quiet but confident vocals add the necessary human touch, conveying a tragic feel to the song’s triumphant chorus.

#83: “Night Shift” by Lucy Dacus (2018)

One of the most ferocious, biting breakup songs of the decade, “Night Shift” is a showcase for Lucy Dacus’ vivid storytelling. The Virginia singer-songwriter spends the first half the song setting the scene of a crappy ex trying to halfway make amends, while Dacus’ character holds herself back from lashing out. She saves the visceral emotion for the second half, when the grungy guitars kick in and Dacus lets out a wounded howl, proudly stating that “I’ll never see you again/If I can help it.” “Night Shift” is a tour de force of indie rock songwriting that rewards patience.

#82: “Round and Round” by Ariel Pink (2010)

Much of indie-rock trickster Ariel Pink is a little too jokey and off-putting for my taste. But on his defining single “Round and Round,” he sprinkled in just the right touch of weirdness into a song that otherwise could’ve been a massive easy-listening hit in 1980.

The quirks throughout “Round and Round” — the woozy, off-kilter production, the lyrics that seemingly make no sense, Pink answering his phone in the middle of the song — are enjoyable. But the song’s true strength is in its chorus: a sudden punch of roller-disco AM-lite harmonies that cut through all the song’s oddities. It’s a double-shot of warmth and nostalgic beauty that feels comfortingly familiar, yet still thrilling.

Pink seemed to know the chorus was the key to “Round and Round,” as he makes the listener wait nearly two minutes for it. But its inevitable release is a truly magical moment.

#81: “4th of July, Philadelphia (SANDY)” by Cymbals Eat Guitars (2016)

Heavily referencing an early Bruce Springsteen classic in the title of a song that sounds nothing like Springsteen is quite the flex. But New Jersey indie-rockers Cymbals Eat Guitars pulled it off regardless.

“4th of July” is a clanging, anthemic scuzz-rock track about going through an existential crisis in the middle of Independence Day. While everyone else is making plans for the holiday, lead singer and guitarist Joseph D’Agostino is howling away, “HOW MANY UNIVERSES AM I ALIVE AND DEAD IN?!?” It’s one of the hardest-rocking mental breakdowns put on record this decade.

#80: “I Like It” by Cardi B, Bad Bunny and J Balvin (2018)

Rapping over extremely-obvious samples has been a time-honored tradition in hip-hop, from the Beastie Boys trading verses over The Beatles to Puff Daddy jacking the chorus from one ‘80s hit and the beat from another in the same song.

But Cardi B, and reggaeton superstars Bad Bunny and J Balvin sampling the boogaloo classic “I Like It Like That” was an inspired choice. The trio’s verses are all delicious fun, whether they’re bragging about eating halal in a Lamborghini or referencing a classic Lady Gaga hit.

But that sample, combined with a trap beat and Cardi’s swaggering charisma powering the chorus, is what makes “I Like It” a classic.

#79: “Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles (2017)

Most former boy band members aim for a grown-and-sexy pop anthem once they go solo, whether its Jordan Knight, Justin Timberlake or Zayn Malik. But the standout member of the 2010s’ standout boy band, Harry Styles, chose took a sharp left turn into melodramatic classic rock instead. And it was a brilliant decision.

"Sign of the Times” is about as close to a classic Beatles or Queen power ballad we got this decade, with its clanging Western guitars, lush strings and thundering drum fills. Styles doesn’t have Freddie Mercury’s gravity-defying vocals, but his immense charisma powers the song anyways. It’s not 100% clear what “Sign of the Times” is about, but with its cinematic scope and cryptic lyrics, it’s likely about the apocalypse. And there’s not many superior songs to cry to while the bombs fall.

#78: “Dancing On My Own” by Robyn (2010)

The ultimate crying-on-the-dancefloor anthem, “Dancing On My Own” has already become a standard.

But Swedish alt-pop icon Robyn’s combination of icy synths and heartbroken, jealous lyrics can’t be replicated. Just ask Calum Scott, who slowed down the track into mushy, piano-ballad goop. Yikes.

What makes “Dancing On My Own” brilliant is its resiliency. It’s not a mopey song — Robyn is defiantly still grooving despite her crushed feelings. It’s a siren call for all those who have been hurt and know the only proper way to work out their emotions through cathartic dancing.

#77: “Trap Queen” by Fetty Wap (2015)

“Trap Queen” is an incredibly fun hip-hop banger, but I don’t think I can extoll its virtues quite as well as Fetty Wap’s hype man at the end of the track. So I’ll let him speak:

“YOU HEAR MY BOY SOUNDIN’ LIKE A ZILLION BUCKS ON THE TRACK?! I GOT WHATEVER ON MY BOY!!”

Amen. It’s a real shame Fetty wasn’t able to keep his momentum rolling past a big 2015, but at least we’ll always have the magic dying-walrus energy of “Trap Queen.” HEY WHAT’S UP HELLOOOOO

#75: “R U Mine?” by Arctic Monkeys (2012)

"R U Mine?” offers Arctic Monkeys fans the best of both worlds. On one hand, you have their AM-era slinky swagger. But it also retains the furious rock-n-roll energy of their early days.

Alex Turner sounds like a smooth-talkin’ cowboy here, but the music is anything but smooth. It hits like a semi-truck, with a calvary-charge guitar riff and so many thunderous drum fills you’d think you were listening to the E Street Band.

[the-sapphire-general]

My Thoughts on Crash N. Sane Trilogy

Just like with Final Fantasy 15, I am going to discuss how I feel about Crash N. Sane Trilogy and other games I will play in the future. Well then, I have completed the game a long time ago, so this is way overdue! The game was a wonderful experience! The nostalgia was powerful, I couldn't stop admiring the game. I can't wait to play this game with my nephew when he's older (if he will like Crash). :D 

First off, the game is awesome! Not only did it stay faithful to the original trilogy many of us grew up playing back in the PS1 era, but it also received additional features and changes. There's more life into it, particularly with the cartoon-like aspects of the game. It all plays the same as the originals, but I'm aware that it's harder than the original trilogy. "Wait a minute, hard? The games aren't hard," some people say. Believe me, just because N. Sane Trilogy gave the original Crash trilogy a PS4 HD makeover (which I hope can be used for a Spyro trilogy and Crash Team Racing remake) doesn't mean it plays the same as it did back then. I didn't notice it at first, but when I died on the first level (yes the first level!), something was up. I thought I was just rusty, but I told myself "How the heck am I rusty enough to lose on the very first level???". Then I noticed my jumps were a little off. I just made the assumption that I'm rusty despite my growing suspicions, and much to my relief, they were later confirmed online. Apparently, you have to be precise with your jumps, and if you mess up in a hazardous section, you're done. You'll lose a life, no questions asked. lol You can easily slip off of things such as the ledges and crates and you cannot let go of the X button or you may possibly fall to your demise. So new physics were applied, and it was difficult to get used to that. There were countless times I believed I would make certain jumps with flawless skill only to be taken by surprise of Crash (or Coco) slipping off where I thought they landed safe and sound. However, I think I mastered the new physics and did a better job than the first Crash game by the time I started Warped. I did a decent job in Cortex Strikes Back, but I did screw up once in a while just because of the jumping.

I mentioned Coco moments ago. You guessed it! Coco Bandicoot is playable in all three games, and that doubles the fun! I always wanted to play as Coco more often, and I was always disappointed as a kid that I couldn't play as her in Crash 2 and 3 (outside of her own levels in Warped obviously). But now we can play as her in every level!...Minus the bosses. And specific levels from each game that are exclusive to Crash. Oh well! At least she's playable in most of the levels. Next are the time trials for Crash 1 and 2, which I will play at my own time. I'll record them and think about whether or not I should strive for platinum relics. I tried that for Crash 3 only to give up after a while. Getting platinum relics isn't an easy task. XD They're hard, and I mean real hard. I stopped partly due to how insanely difficult they are, and also because I didn't want to slow down the playthrough more than I already did by getting the first platinum relics. But the good news is gold relics count for 105% completion on all three Crash games so no need to go berserk, everybody! 

Also, there's Stormy Ascent! A new level cut from the original Crash Bandicoot, Stormy Ascent is a difficult version of its sister level, Slippery Climb. I understand that it really is pretty hard. I died 46 times (47 if you count the stupid blunder I made in the bonus round), my mistakes ranging from simple miscalculations to ridiculous decisions. Yet surprisingly I wasn't frustrated along the way. The time trial, however, may be a different story. Will I do the time trial? Will I shoot for the platinum relic? I honestly don't know, but when (or if) I do, I'll record it. I won't be doing it anytime soon, though! Lol

As mentioned from my posts prior to the game's release, now everybody knows the whole truth regarding the difficulty. I hope those who have been criticizing people for dying easily or being super cautious or whatever during levels regret judging their gaming skills. Crash N. Same Trilogy is literally harder than the original trilogy. They're not terrible gamers, they're gamers who have struggled with how the game works! Newcomers and experts both have to deal with the new physics of the game. Think about it. It's like playing these games for the first time all over again.

Hmmmmmm what else? Oh yeah! Crash N. Sane Trilogy has made some changes to the game besides the gameplay and the inclusion of Coco, Stormy Ascent, and the time trials. I won't mention every single one, but I'll point out one example. One of the few changes that sort of disappointed me was N. Gin having most of his lines removed in Crash 2 and 3. 

Cortex Strikes Back (Original), N. Gin's defeat:

"Dr. Cortex will be very displeased with your resistance! Prepare to suffer his wrath!”

Warped, N. Gin's lines during his boss battle:

Beginning - "Prepare to be pulverized, bandicoot!”

End - "Arrrgh! Not again!!"

It didn't bother me much, but I still wonder why they weren't included. Even Dingodile doesn't say his line when he's defeated. And the crowd during Tiny's battle in Warped doesn't boo at Crash. But I won't hate those bits, it's not like everything in the games were changed.

The music is a masterpiece in my book! After I finished playing Crash, I downloaded the soundtracks because it's just that great. They made the songs more memorable than they were before, and I like that. Well, that is the end of my review! I highly recommend this game to anyone who loves Crash and has grown up playing the series or to newcomers that are curious about this legendary bandicoot. It's worth buying because it's just that awesome. :D On a random note, I still hate how the orange gem only appeared once and never showed up again. Poor orange gem. That's why it's one of my favorite gems to collect (aside from the blue gem, my ultimate favorite of all).

For a bonus, in case you want to know, my favorite songs of Crash N. Sane Trilogy are below:

Crash Bandicoot

Toxic Waste

Generator Room

Slippery Climb/Stormy Ascent

Dr. Neo Cortex's theme

Pinstripe's theme

N. Brio's theme and bonus

Lights Out/Fumbling in the Dark

Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back

Turtle Woods/The Pits/Night Flight

The Eel Deal's Green Gem Route

Crash Dash/Crash Crush/Un-Bearable

Cortex's boss theme

N. Gin's boss theme

Tiny Tiger's boss theme

Crash Bandicoot: Warped

The Time Twister

Makin' Waves/Tell No Tales/Ski Crazed/Hot Coco

Tomb Time/Sphyxinator/Bug Lite (including their death route theme)

Hog Ride/Road Crash/Orange Asphalt/Area 51?

Future Frenzy/Gone Tomorrow

Rings of Power

N. Gin's theme

Dingodile's theme

Cortex's theme

Wow I like a lot of them. lol Now for my favorite levels:

Crash Bandicoot

Stormy Ascent

Generator Room

Toxic Waste

N. Brio 

Dr. Cortex

Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back

Cold Hard Crash

Bear It/Bear DownUn-Bearable

The Eel Deal

Rock It

N. Gin

Dr. Cortex

Crash Bandicoot: Warped

Hog Ride/Road Crash/Orange Asphalt/Area 51?

Tomb Time/Sphyxinator/Bug Lite

Dingodile

N. Gin

Dr. Cortex

Now this is the end of my review! lol I hope you guys enjoyed Crash like I do. It has been my childhood, and it feels great to have him back. And let's hope that Crash gets a bright future that he deserves! Also, let's try to get Activision thinking about remaking Crash Team Racing and the Spyro trilogy while we're at it. 

[certifiablyplatinum]

Can you save my heavydirtysoul?(Please say you can.)Twenty One Pilots concert story, 10/22/19

As I had missed my GA Floor seat show in June at home in Cbus due to my woeful injury,  I decided to buy tickets when the boyz announced their second leg and  stop in Cincinnati.  I mean, why not? Fangirling all over the place here. Of course, I was taking Jordan, as the summer of 2016 was the Blurryface summer and we played it out on our deck almost every night. I am secure in my vast music knowledge and boldly admit my love for Twenty One Pilots just as I do my more bizarre and obscure bands. Diversity is where it’s at, babies, ya like what ya like.

The brilliant blue October day arrived, and my preparations were made.  

First, I chose a hotel north of Cinci. I had a work retreat on the south side of Columbus the next morning, so shaving off those ends saved me time.

Secondly, I told the wayward Jordan “Meet me at XXX South High Street with your bags packed at 3:30 pm.” (referring to the event space I needed to be at the day after the show.)  Jordan: Huh? Where? Why?  Me: Just meet me there.

Third, I called the event space to ensure I could leave a car parked there overnight.

Fourth, I packed an overnight bag with 17 different outfits. I am not sure why.

 I left work and drove to the space I was to be at the next morning, and Jordy showed up VERY promptly. (Me texting her: It’s just past the bridge going over 71.  Her reply: I have GPS.)

 She tossed her bags in my car,  locked her car up, and off we went together.  She drove, as I needed to focus up with a call and verbal beatdown to  A T & T and a little light  bill paying. An hour and a half later we arrived at our Blu hotel in Blue Ash, freshened up, poured a Citron and G2, and called an Uber to US Bank Arena.

 Our driver pulled up, we tossed our cardboard coffee cups in the trash, and hopped in. He looked back at us randomly asked, “Do you like country music?”  I diplomatically and cheerfully answered, “I do if you do!” He seemed to doubt my sincerity, as he wordlessly handed me his phone. I chose a 90s alt-rock playlist and, well…. Pearl Jam’s Jeremy came on first.  I believe this set the tone for the whole evening and led to my overall uninhibited abandon. Because here’s the deal—I have this thing where I have a primal need to sing Pearl Jam loudly and also in a PREEEEETY spot-on Eddie Vedder voice. I simply can’t not do it. So when  I began to bellow along in my Eddie voice, Mohammed turned the radio up so loud that my ears were bleeding, as if to urge me along. Still, I sang on. (OOoooh my jaw left hurtin’, OOoohhh dropped wide open…)

 Anyway, we got dropped off and headed to get food and drinks at the Holy Grail Tavern.  Both Jordan and I couldn’t stop looking at our attractive server.  It got so that we were laughing out loud when she whizzed past us because we (the server and me) were always accidentally locking eyes.  I said, “Oh my God she’s going to think – who is this perv staring at me?”  And Jordan said, “Well,  *I* get to see her as she walks away and she has a great butt.” This led us to the conclusion that we couldn’t stop looking at her because we, as a species, are so used to ugly being the norm  (“Have you BEEN to the BMV, Elaine?”) that we can’t stop looking at people who are attractive.  We drink them in like a scarce hidden spring in a dusty desert.   The server asked, “One check or two?”  as soon as we finished our food and apparently I spoke loudly and with a bit of shock: “Well I am HAVING another drink!”  

 We chugged away and then around 7 we headed out the door.  I was in a bit of a conundrum because I had already walked a great deal and I didn’t know what side of the stadium we were on, and I didn’t want to walk in circles for nothing, as BabyCalf and BionicTendon were a lil sore. Just then, (of course, because this is how things happen to witchy little me), a jolly man called from one lone open-air shuttle across the street: “Need a ride?”  And how!  Not only did we get a ride, we got the VIP drop off at the secret back elevator!  Up we went,  got scanned in, and found our kickass seats—basically 6 rows up from the floor.

 Once we knew where our seats were, we went up to the stuffed and crammed hallway overflowing with yellow and camo-clad Cliquers, and made our way to a hallway bar cart.  The windows behind the bar cart looked out to the open air terrace.  We figured we would go out and get some fresh air rather than wait in our seats, and asked the bartender, “Can we have someone let us back in if we go out there?” She said “No, but you can keep walking around the corner and come back in the main entrance.”  No problem! But was it? We soon found it was, as we wandered back up to the main entrance with our brazenly open containers and were told, “No re-entry!” by a shocked looking person who may as well have added, “You dumbasses!”

 “BUT! BUT! She said we could come back in this way!” I eloquently burst forth.

The ‘who are these stupid people’ gate attendant said with some ‘tude: “Who. Is. ‘She’?”

“The bartender!” I pouted.

“You can’t have open containers either!” he parried again, noticing our drinks.

“Well what do we DO!?” I demanded, my Scarlett O’Hara inconvenience bubbling up.

He sighed and pointed. “That guy in the blazer is the manager. Go talk to him.”

 Another witchy win: the plaza was empty except for the one, lone, blazered manager, talking to a cop! What are the chances he was right there?  I strolled up, my drink still blatant AF, and explained our predicament.

“No re-entry,” he said.

“Oh my God! We were clearly here! We had to get in to even be here with a drink in our hand. She told us we could go out on the terrace and walk around to get back in!”

“Who is ‘she’? And no open containers.” he chided.

 Amazingly,  our damsel in distress act got us back in and the manager bellowed “Let ‘em through!” to all the ticket attendants, and we sailed on through, triumphant. “Comin through!” I waved my hands. Back to our seats we went!

 MIsterwives opened up, and I get it, auburn-maned singer Mandy Lee has a wild falsetto that yips and yodels and leaps around, putting me in mind of Kate Bush’s vocal style. Their wavy, colorful set and lighting was bright and cheery with rainbow tones and pops of pinks and yellows. The highlight was their cover of Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts”.   Ballsy move!  They bopped, boogied and bounced with great gusto all over the stage and when they finished with a rollicking “Our Own House”  with its zesty horn riffs, the crowd was getting into it.  (Jordan and I happened to be sitting in the “Family Section” and felt chastened by the uncertain-faced teens at their first show, not quite sure how to let loose, and their basic and somewhat resigned parents – neither of which group had a drink in their hands. Jordan made several trips up and back, soaking these poor people with vodka as she sloshed her way back to her seat.)

 FINALLY – the main event! The arena seethed with anticipation when the curtain billowed back and forth, sooo close to unveiling the set and stage. Finally, in a burst of red lasers and flames, Josh and Tyler appeared on the scene and ripped right into Jumpsuit, performed as a car on fire burned behind them. JUMPSUIT! JUMPSUIT! COVER ME! He screamed at the close, as we all did.

 Visually, the evening was a treat for the senses.  Kaledoscopic shifting colors and shapes, lasers, catwalks, a B Stage…. Costume changes and bridges,  Josh Dun and his abs on full display, Tyler with his various hats and costumes and instruments,  a glittering swath of twinkling lights for the gentle “Neon Gravestones” shining like stars caught in a net: The production of this tour was top-notch and stunning, allowing for a visual orgy to accompany the talent of the hometown boys. I stumbled across a line that I think puts it perfectly:

“This wasn’t a band rocking out, despite how hard Dun plays the drums. This was a post-apocalyptic rapper-hero performing songs with his drummer-sidekick nearby, in the midst of lasers and explosions.” They really do have a kind of anime’,  lone-wolf kind of renegade vibe going, especially with the way their albums tend to run with storylines: The Blurryface character, and now the bishops and mysterious DEMA of Trench.

Their setlist was packed full of the goodies…. Stressed Out (“what’s my name?” Tyler would chant rhythmically.)  The frenetic insanity and staccato rapping of Heavy Dirty Soul. My favorite from Trench, The Hype, or as I say “The song with the best ukulele-backed bridge ever written.” God that song is tight! They shifted stages during the end of “Nico and the Niners” and returned back on the main stage by the time Holding On To You started….. ahhhh, where Josh does his perfectly timed backflip from the piano! Lean with it, rock with it. Swoon, y’all.   Tyler’s laid-bare confessions are what resonate, causing the band’s wildfire-like leap to global fame.

 Something that is becoming a bit of tradition with the duo is that every show, as far as I know, has always ended with Trees. It’s a euphoric communal outpouring to close the night, everyone jumping up and down singing “LA LA…. LA LA LA LA LA LA….. HELLOOOOOOO!”  It’s a soft start, a gentle and sad build, and then a sweaty screamfest at the end. PERF!

 As we made our way out the doors and across the plaza, we made up songs like “My momma needs to take an elevator because of her busted tendon” – Jordan, and “OOooh but I got ma fishnet stockings on, yeahh” -Me.  Jordan also stepped on my foot and I howled in pain as she knelt before with remorse, boozily patting and stroking my foot.

 Sooo we grabbed another Uber, and here’s where things shifts from a normal boozy concert night to one for the books. Our dude, Dean, pulled up with the license plate that began with LGR.  Our relationship began with my opening sentence: “Your license plate says LIGER, like Napoleon Dynamite.  It’s a lion—and a tiger!”  And bam! Merrily we roll along!

 I am not quite sure how this went from polite chatter to veering off the rails, but I will condense and recount what went down as best I can recall.

Jordan: She had her achilles’ tendon repaired!

Dean: Oh, I can fix that.

(Like, totally matter of fact. Oh, I can fix that.)

 Jordan: Really?  YES!

Dean: Sure. We’re all made of electricity.  We’re just made of electric particles and neurons. I consult all over to doctors because I fix people.

Jordan: Why are you driving an Uber?

Me: .

Dean: Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.

Me: …How???

Dean: Electricity.

Jordan: How do you know how to do this?

Dean: I’m just kind of brilliant with this kind of stuff.

 OK, so, I’m kind of brushing it off at this point, thinking I’ll ditch him when we arrive at the ol’ Blu. Dean says he’s going to find a place to park and he will be right in. Jord and I get out and stand outside for a minute as we watch him drive around the corner.  “Let’s just go in,” I say.  “Yeah,” she agrees, “I think he left.”  My brain was so jumbled with confusion I wasn’t sure what was going on.  Was he actually planning on coming up to the hotel room?  “Let’s get inside,” I said, relieved that he probably was just messing with us and took off.

 The automatic glass doors blew open to the lobby and we walked in. Right behind us, a dude with a bag of City BBQ carryout and a gray medical-looking case followed us in.

Jordan: What’s that?

City BBQ dude: This is my (blah, blah, blah.)  It uses electricity to heal injuiries. (He says a name similar to   something like the Electralux El Diablo 5000.)

Jordan: She tore her achilles!

City BBQ dude: Yes, this equipment will heal it.

ME: (whipping my head back toward him):  OH MY GOD!!!! MY UBER DRIVER JUST SAID THAT TOO!  WHAT ARE THE CHANCES!?

Like, seriously, I am thinking this guest of the hotel is maybe a doctor in for a conference, or whatever.  It was only through muddled bits and pieces clicking together in my brain during the ride up in the elevator and ending when the bbq-toting man did not go to his “room” but walked in OURS that I fucking realized…

This guy WAS MY UBER DRIVER.

Not 2 separate people, both coincidentally on a mission and willing to fix bodily injuries with a machine with the equipment on their person.

 I was so confused when faced with this reality it was like I was living in an alternate universe.  As I am sputtering around saying, “Oh my God, I never really saw your face in the car, just the back of your head” Dean is busily and efficiently placing electrodes on my ankles, calves, shins, even my goddamn glutes.  I find myself saying, “You know, my shoulder has hurt a bit lately too” and he briskly whips my arm around and jams his thumb right where it hurts, murmurs the word “Release…..” and then slaps an electrode on my shoulder. THEN he hooks Jordan up. “Is this a TENS unit?”  I ask. “Pfft.  This makes a TENS unit look like child’s play” he retorts proudly.

Jordan and I are now are standing next to each other looking like inmates of The Green Mile and sizzling with pulsating electricity.   Dean eats his corn pudding, yanking the current up and down based on our grunts of discomfort. My phone is in my hand at all times with the first two numbers of 9 – 1 punched in and on high alert.  But as he contentedly moves on to his green beans with his feet kicked up on the table in front of him, I have to admit he looks pretty harmless.  

 I think Dean the Electrode Machine was in our room until midnight, giving us confident tips on how to heal, saying he could bring his machine anywhere in the world, and I finally started giving signs of get-out-I’m-tired. In a gentlemanly way, he bid us adieu, as I babbled on about leaving him a big tip.  I mean, he invited himself to cure me, but isn’t his time and trouble worth something?  I tipped him 30 dollars and added him on Facebook.  

 Jordan and I try to get ready for bed but she then runs into a couple of questionable characters and starts talking to them. The three of them are standing outside (why did we go back outside? Perhaps to bid Dean adieu, I believe.) They start cooking up plans like long lost homies.  I say “Get upstairs” and take her arm.  (She can be hard to manage once she crosses that line.)  We get in bed.  It is nearing 1am. Jordan lays on top of me crying and blubbering “Promise me you won’t ever die.”   I say kindly as I smooth her hair, “I will though.”   We laugh about being electrocuted by our Uber driver.  I say I can’t believe he just invited himself to our hotel room.  She casually says with the air of a jaded and well-worn matriarch: “Please, Mom, everybody hangs out with their Uber drivers in their hotels now.” Then she gets up again and walks out the door.  I am fading fast but I manage to say, “GET BACK IN HERE! Where are you going?”  I close my eyes for a minute and I open them when I hear the door open again and Jordan puts her face right next to mine and whispers in a low, clear, concerned voice:

“Mom. There is a naked man sitting in the egg chair in the hallway masturbating.”

“Huh?” I whisper back.

She repeats it.

With STRANGE AND STOIC CALM considering my inebriated and disoriented state, I pick up the desk phone.  The next thing I know, I am whispering as calmly and clearly as Jordan did: “Hello. This is Room 303. I want you to know there is a naked man masturbating in the egg chair up here in the hallway.”

 DEAD ASS PAUSE on the other end. Finally: “Umm, ahh, ok, I… I .. uhhh… I’ll come check it out.”

Five minutes later the phone startles me out of my slip into slumber.  

“Hello?” I answer.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes. The man. No man.”

“Okay.”

 It is 2:30 now and I don’t just fall asleep—I hurtle into it like a plane crashing into the ground, fading to black.  I don’t wake up until I hear something.  It sounds familiar.  It’s a ringing sound.  It’s that thing that makes you wake up. But where is it?  “Jordan,”  I hiss. “Huh?” she moans.  She bolts upright and grabs her phone and stares at it. “This is new,” she whispers.  “Make it stop!”  I cry. The ringing continues.  I realize it’s coming from my phone which is on the floor.  I remember how to make it stop.  It’s 6:45 am. I lay in exhausted torment until 7:15. Then 7:30.  Then with every ounce of strength I can muster, I get my ass up and get to the excruciating business of  getting my shit together and getting my shit together…( sayin’ wake up, ya need to make money!)  At 8:10 Jordan and I are both in the car with a cup of coffee.  You’re not hard core unless you live hard core, like Dewey Finn says.

 I sail up 71 without incident.  The coffee kicks in and I’m actually feeling pretty okay. At 9:49, I pull into the venue we are at for the day at work. Jordan’s car is safe and intact.  I find a parking spot, wave to my friend, and tell Jordy to wake up.

 She sits up, opens her eyes, retches, opens the door, and promptly vomits down the side of my car.

I squeal, then chant prayerfully: OMG PLEASE DO NOT PUKE IN FRONT OF MY CO-WORKERS!

 I don’t even see her leave.  She is gone, slinking away to her car, as I had practically pushed her out of a moving vehicle.

 So.  That’s my review of Twenty One Pilots and a little story thrown in to boot.  

 PS My foot doesn’t feel any better.

PSS Pics below of Tyler, Josh, me, Jordan,and Dean.

[yeehawbisexualold]

I’ve Lived A Long Bloody Time

Captain Duckling Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with a soul mark that only has one match. The day you reach 20, you stop aging until you find your match. (1/?)

For my lovely valentine @princess-emma-of-misthaven. Sorry, it’s a little late. I loved talking to you these past weeks and I hope to chat more.

Killian Jones has been plagued his whole life, a lot of bloody years, by the swan beneath his collar bone.

It's a simple soul mark but a rare one.

Simple in it's design, it consists of two lines—a thick curving line in the shape a hook, swooping down and out, thinning into a gentle curve like that of a closed eyelid and another, slightly rippled line starting about two-thirds of the way down from the first, rising, falling and then rising again, flicking up like wave smashing against rocks.

It's rare in two ways. Soul marks tended to be made up of dark colors: black, dark grays, and varying shades of browns and reds. His was white like an old, faded scar. Most soul marks don't resemble much of anything. People usually have thick misshapen blobs or odd squiggly lines. Occasionally one finds themself with the markings of a constellation or something resembling the outline of an object. He once met an extremely horrid woman with the distinctive design in the middle of her shoulder blades—an ugly, jagged heart, ripped in half. Her daughter had the curves of a snake on the inside of her wrist. Lovely family that.

His brother had a wave on the back of his calf.

Killian was done with the soulmate business after the death of his brother. He wanted to find his soulmate and get his bloody miserable life over with as soon as possible. Were he a lesser man, he may have taken his life himself. But he knew Liam wouldn't approve, that his brother would want him to continue on and live to the fullest.

When he met Milah, he thought maybe she could be the one—maybe his life wasn't destined to be an endless void. But her mark was an odd, brown crescent shape on the inside of her wrist.

He didn't care much that their marks weren't a match. They loved each other and together, life was no longer miserable. She brightened the darkened corners of his heart and mind, brought color into his life he hadn't seen since the loss of his brother. He could happily live on forever with her at his side.

He couldn't imagine anyone else out there being the one. He couldn't imagine anyone being a more perfect fit for him than his brave, brazen, raven-haired beauty, a woman who fit so perfectly on his ship, amongst his crew, and between his body and the wall of his cabin.

Frankly, he didn't want to find said person.

Milah claimed that the spineless man she was married to wasn't a match. He didn't care much about that either. He trusted her. And even if she lied, at least he would be able to have her for the rest of her years.

What few years he actually got.

After her death, his life continued on an endless span of rum, anger, and misery.

The crocodile continued to live with his dagger.

He continued to live with his unmatched soul mark. Most days the only thing keeping him going was the anticipation of the revenge of his love lost.

—

Emma Swan has never had much interest in her soul mark. For most of her life, it had been nothing more than a nuisance—something she’s had to take great care to keep covered (too many high-necked dresses, cloaks, scarves and carefully placed jewelry) lest someone spot it and falsify their own in an attempt to wed the crown princess.

Her parents are living, annoying proof of how well soulmates work out—imagine her father’s surprise when the woman he had caught in his net bore a mark matching his own on the back of her hand and, likewise, her mother’s when the man she’d smacked in the face with a rock turned out to be the one.

One would think having such perfectly matched parents would cause her to be hopeful in finding her own soul mate. One would be wrong.

Really, only the thought of outliving her parents an unreasonable amount of time kept her from writing off the stupid mark altogether.

She’s been twenty for five years now.

It’s not an absurd amount of time—she knows it took her Aunt Ruby just over 11 years to meet her match Belle—but she’s heard tales of people waiting nearly a hundred years. And with every sign her parents show of aging, her heart clenches.  

—

The only true alone time Emma gets is when she takes Buttercup, a beautiful champagne colored horse with golden hair, out riding. It’s a casual affair and that’s what she most enjoys about it, the simplicity.

On days when she’s feeling lost or unsettled or just in need of some familiarity, she takes her usual beaten path: a straight shot from the stable, a curve around the abandoned nymph tree, a stop near the weathered cliffs overlooking the sea, and back to the stables. Other days, when she’s feeling bored or particularly restless she explores. Some days she does a mixture of both.

Upon one of her many adventures, she discovered a now beloved spot. It’s a narrow but deep ravine, rocky walls reaching higher than her head in some areas, located beyond the tree and just past the tiger lily meadow. The first time she followed it she found that it leads out to a different section of cliffs, creating a waterfall and dropping off into a small pool, which then juts out and drops into the sea.

Usually, she stops, removes her shoes, and dips her feet in the pool, lifts up her skirts and wades out until the water is flowing around her calves, spins around with the feeling of pebbles and sand slipping between her toes.

On trips when the air is especially sultry, she strips down to her small clothes and swims around (a secret just between her and her trusted steed, not even her parents are aware of.) She’ll rest amongst the plush flowers, letting the warm sun evaporate the droplets of water off her skin and dry her smalls.

Today the weather is slightly brisk, the sun clouded over and the wind bordering on unpleasant. Usually, when faced with this weather, Emma would forgo riding.

But she just finished arguing with her mother over a trip to Arendelle. She simply wants to visit her friend Elsa for a fortnight and return before the annual soulmate ball but Snow insists that she stay an extra week to see if there are any gentleman that carry the potential of being her true love. “We just want you to be happy, my dear,” her father chimed in.

She knows that the queen can be a conniving little thing and if she leaves before the disagreement is settled, her mother will do something like instruct the ship’s crew not to leave until the ball has passed.

Emma would normally wait her mother out, leave at a later time, but the year is drawing to an end and if she doesn’t leave soon she’ll run the risk of facing unbearable weather and unrelenting storms.

So, with her and her mother no closer to an accordance, Emma dawns her favorite cloak, made of a thick pure white material and lined with swan feathers on the inside (her parents’ idea of an inside joke) and heads out.

With the air being as bitter as it is, the wind trying its damnedest to pierce through her cloak, she doesn’t even entertain the idea of removing her shoes, let alone entering the water. She simply dismounts from her horse and walks out to the edge of the first set of cliffs.

Scanning the sea, she sees a ship docked a little ways down, near a small shore, far from anywhere a ship should be docked—the nearest port at least half a mile from her location. The colors of the ship are decidedly not from any nearby kingdom and she doesn’t see any men aboard which, in Emma’s mind, is more concerning than if it was full of crewmen.

Just as she’s decided to head back to the castle and inform her parents, something startles Buttercup and before Emma can say “settle” she being flung over the cliff.

—

The last thing Killian Jones expected, when departing from his crew and wandering up the side of the hill near the small shore he anchored the Jolly at, was to find a woman. And even less expected was to see her go tumbling off a cliff.

After a brief moment of shock, he runs over to see if the lass is alright. He heard no screams and, alarmingly, no sound of pain upon impact. He looks down and sees the girl sprawled out on her back, eyes shut and one arm twisted in a distressing fashion behind her back. The sight of her, unmoving, causes a swooping sensation near his navel.

He estimates the fall to be about ten feet and is about to jump down when he sees a declining section of land perfect to walk down. When he reaches the girl, he puts his fingers to her neck and, thankfully (he’s a pirate but he’s got a moral code and would not feel pleasant at causing the accidental death of an innocent stranger), discovers a pulse.

He sits back on his haunches and properly takes her in and bloody hell she’s a wondrous sight—long, golden hair, cutting cheekbones, and soft pink lips. And he’d be a damned horrible pirate if he didn’t behold her beauty and lavish clothing and conclude that she was the crown princess.

What a mess he’s gotten himself into.

He gathers the lass in his arms and trudges back up the slight hill and attempts to coax the horse into letting them mount. It’s a smart beast and seems conflicted due to the obvious state of trouble its master is in but after some cajoling, it allows Killian to heft the girl onto her and mount up behind her.

He gathers the princess tightly with his right arm and wraps the reins around his hook and heads off into the direction he believes the castle to be in.

Nearing the edge of the forest he pauses to pull the hood of the cloak over the girl’s face, knowing it won’t do much to hide her identity but hoping for a miracle nonetheless.

A miracle he gets. The castle grounds, assumingly due to the weather, lack people. He’s tempted to get as close as possible, lay the princess down, let the horse loose and run off. He knows arriving to the castle with the prone body of Misthaven’s crown princess in his arm will not bode well for him. But the idea of leaving her unattended doesn’t sit right.

He shouts “I mean no harm!” at the first person he sees, a disgruntled looking dwarf.

He narrowly avoids getting his head flung off and does a serious amount of explaining and appealing. “If I wanted the princess dead I wouldn’t have brought her back to the castle and if I wanted her for ransom I wouldn’t have ridden up, alone and unarmed. I’m a might bit smarter than that.” And bites his tongue to stop himself from insulting the angry little thing.

Eventually, the dwarf allows him to help bring the golden haired beauty into the castle, where he hands her off to curly haired, fur cloaked guard.

He isn’t allowed to leave right away, though. He’s taken to a room and sat down, surrounded by six guards.

He waits for what feels like hours before the king comes walking through the doors.

“So, you found my daughter and brought her back, huh?” the man challenges, his voice gruff.

“Do I get a medal for this?” he smarts. With the situation he’s in, he should really watch his mouth, a point which hits home when the king moves his hand to rest on his sword, but he truly can’t help himself.

“Where were you and what were you doing?”

“Well, my crew and I docked near a small section of land. They disembarked and headed into town but I needed some alone time on dry land. The sea is a wonderful lover but even with the best of mistresses, sometimes a man needs a little time alone. I was wondering through the trees and came up a hill just in time to witness that horse, startled by something or another, send your daughter toppling off a cliff. As for the exact whereabouts of our location, I’m assuming if the princess didn’t inform you herself, it’s probably a place she wants to be kept hidden and who am I to go about spilling the lass’s secrets?”

His hand grips the hilt of his sword a little tighter. “Emma doesn’t tell us where she goes when she takes off with Buttercup. It’s not very conducive to keeping her safe but it’s one of the few things she feels she has any actual control over so we let her be.” A look Killian can’t quite place passes over the man’s face, something a mixture of love and melancholy.

Killian feels a small pang in his chest for the princess—Emma. How isolated she must feel stuck in this looming palace for most hours of the day—a woman with the world at her feet and her land’s people in her hands, to one day lead them all, but having little control over the aspects of her day to day life.

“Look,” the king continues, his expression firming, “the queen and I are grateful that you found her and returned her to us. It couldn’t have been easy and in doing so you risked your head. We have no laws here against pirates making port in our land. As long as you don’t cause any trouble, you’re free to do as you like. But do make sure to dock your ship in a proper port and if you’re ever involved in my daughter being caused harm again, I will have your head. Are we clear?”

He steps back and allows Killian room to stand.

“Yes, your majesty,” he says, smirking but taking a slight bow. The king offers out his hand and as Killian grasps it, the king’s eyes wander down his chest and a look of horror crosses his face.

Abruptly, the man drops his hand and takes off through the doors he’d just came through.

“What caused him to startle like that?” the agitated dwarf from before ponders, looking him up and down. His eyes seem to land on the same spot as the kings but instead of a look of fright, the dwarf bursts into laughter. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

—

“You’re quite certain, David?” Emma hears her mother demand as she awakens.

“Yes!” her father nearly shouts. “He stood up and his shirt fell open, revealing an absurd amount of chest hair and a white swan, clear as day beneath his collar bone.

“Fuck,” her mother exhales and Emma feels it on a molecular level.

“Who—” she starts, her voice cracking. “Who is it?”

In sync, her parents whip their heads to face her. Neither of them looking very much like they want to tell her.

“A pirate, dear,” her mother informs her. “His name is Killian Jones. He’s the man who brought you back to the castle after you’d fallen.”

“From the ship I saw?” she wonders aloud.

Her father simply nods.

“Well, there’s no use in waiting around. Might as well get it over with,” she sighs. She struggles to get out of bed, her head pounding and one arm throbbing, secured tightly to her chest.

“You hit your head pretty hard and landed on your arm,” her mother informs. The cool touch of her mother’s fingers against her head, gently pushing her hair back, is heavenly. “It was dislocated at the shoulder and it’s broken in two places. You need to rest. If you want to meet the man, we’ll have him brought up here.”

“A pirate in my room? How scandalous,” she muses and ignores the look of disgust that crosses her father’s face.

Snow returns shortly with a rather handsome man in tow. He’s got striking blue eyes, dark hair, a reasonable amount of scruff, and an unreasonable (absurd as her father put it) amount of chest hair.

“At least you’re easy to look at,” Emma concedes.

“Let me assure you that you are beyond easy to look at your highness,” he responds with a bemused smirk, his chest falling forward into a perfect bow. “Captain Hook at your service. But pardon me, if I’m confused as to what’s going on here.”

Emma hesitates. She’s uncomfortable with the idea that from the moment she was born she was predestined to meet this man, that some unknown forces have put her life on hold until a specific time that they would meet. Nobody should be in control of her destiny but her.

She could tell this man it was a misunderstanding, send him on his way.  It’s possible that now that they’ve met she’ll begin to age again. She’ll be able to live out her life, serving her kingdom and not feeling as if she’s been trapped by the powers that be.

But she’s never heard of anyone choosing not to be with their soulmate. She doesn’t know if parting from his so soon will force her into not aging again.

Her mind made up, she takes a deep breath and pulls the neck of her dress down.

“With your parent’s in the room love? That’s—” His words cut off, his mouth falls open and his eyes widen, the pupils shrinking down until their almost nonexistent and she stares into his impossibly blue irises. She’s grateful he’s stopped talking; she didn’t want to hear where his sentence was going.

“Bloody hell,” he croaks, looking as if he’s about to faint.

With her free arm, she pats the empty space on the side of her bed.

“Please sit,” she implores. “I’d hate for you to collapse on my floors.”

Hesitantly he sits by her knees, his back straight as one of her mother’s arrows, looking for all the world as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Isn’t this every pirate’s dream? To be matched with a princess?” she challenges. She’s feeling rather irritated at his response. She’s the one that just found out some dirty pirate is her soulmate. She should be the one in shock and uncomfortable.

“Not this pirate, love” he sighs. He must realize that he’s offending her because he hurriedly adds, “Nothing against you. I’ve just lived a long bloody time with this mark hanging over my head. I never wanted to meet my mate.”

“How old are you exactly?”

“Two-hundred-something I believe. I’ve lost count at this point. All I know is that it’s been too long. All I’ve wanted for many years is to just kill the crocodile and finally rest.”

“The crocodile?” she prods, no longer angry just confused.

“Aye, Rumplestiltskin,” his eyes flash something deadly.

“But that’s impossible!” What has the dark one done to him that has given him the foolish notion that he must kill him?

“Nothing’s impossible if you’ve got the will. I have the will and I will find a way,” he growls.

“Well, no one’s forcing you to stay,” Emma grumbles. “If you’re so opposed to having a soulmate and hellbent on your revenge, far be it from me to hold you back.”

“Emma, if I may interject. I’ve come up with an idea,” her mother announces and Emma eyes her warily. “I think some time away will do you some good. You shall go on your trip to visit Elsa and bring Killian along with you. Stay for as long or as short as you’d like. Obviously, the desire I had for you to attend the ball has been… changed.”

Emma feels as if she’s been through enough today. She’s argued with her mother, fallen off a cliff, and met her soulmate who is just as adverse to the idea as her. Her entire body aches fiercely. Her nerves feel as if they’ve been prodded with needles. She’s tired and cranky and her head feels fuzzy. And now her mother has lost her mind.

Snow senses her reluctance and continues, “The only thing we need in life is for you to be happy, my dear. I’d hate the thought of you throwing away your chance at true love. This trip will give you time to get to know each other and to sort out your feelings. If it doesn’t work out, then that’s that. But please, all I’m asking is that you try.”

Emma looks to her father but his face is a carefully composed mask.

“I’m willing to try if you are love,” the man sitting on her bed says carefully.

She feels as if she’s been doused in cold water. Was he not, just moments ago, saying how he never wanted to find her? Suddenly he wants to go on some lovers voyage?

“Do I have a say in the matter?” she queries, resting her head back against her pillows.

“Of course you do,” her mother responds, sounding affronted. “I’d rather you say yes, though.”

Translation: she has a say but her mother will argue her point until Emma’s is whittled down to nonexistence.

“I guess, if he’s willing, something can be arranged,” she addresses her mother and then turns her attention to Hook. “Don’t expect anything from this.” He nods solemnly. “And we’ll be staying in separate cabins.”

At that, he laughs. “You say that now, but we’ll see what your thoughts are by the end of the trip.”