#or the second to last chorus in save rock and roll where he goes ''I only plugged IN to save rock and roll!''

[hum--hallelujah]

I love when Patrick Stump does that thing where he pops his voice up and does a high falsetto just for like, a single note out of the middle of nowhere. like genuinely it's one of my favorite things not only does it sound really good but it's such a distinct personal quirk that it stands out as just something very very Patrick and I love that

[earlgreytea68]

This post got me thinking about Pete and religion.

Fall Out Boy lyrics are full of Christian religious imagery. You kind of get the impression that Pete was raised in a household where he was just casually surrounded by all of this STUFF, that he absorbed and turned over in his lyrics. I mean, “Knock once for the Father, twice for the Son, three times for the Holy Ghost”... (West Coast Smoker).

He’s preoccupied by Heaven as an exclusive party. The idea shows up again and again. The Black Cards (I *love* the Black Cards stuff, I need to devote a whole thing to Black Cards at some point) have an entire song called “A Club Called Heaven.” On “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Fame,” “Heaven’s got a gate full of metal detectors.” On “Thriller,” he shows up with his plus one to the afterlife.

But Pete’s not entirely sure he’s getting into that party. In fact, usually Pete puts himself in Hell: He might be dancing in a club called Heaven, but he knows the doorman in Hell personally. The road to his house is paved with good intentions in Hum Hallelujah (which is, of course, traditionally what the road to Hell is paved with); “we’re just Hell’s neighbors” in America’s Suitehearts (if we’re not in Hell, we’re right next door, and that could be Heaven but I don’t think so). To get on St. Peter’s list, you need to lower your standards, says Rat-a-Tat. This is what Pete Wentz lyrics do, a simple sentence like that is LOADED with meaning. Because after all, his name is Peter, and it could be Peter Wentz’s list he’s referring to there, and it could also be the list to get into Heaven, and it could be that getting on Peter Wentz’s list doesn’t actually take that much (lower your standards, I’m never getting any better than this) and it could be that it’s St. Peter at the gates of Heaven who needs to lower *his* standards (again: I’m never getting any better than this).

(My absolute favorite Heaven/Hell lyric, though, is when Pete throws in Purgatory, that place in Catholicism where you go to do penance for your sins before you’re let into Heaven: On w.a.m.s. Pete writes, “My head’s in Heaven, my soles are in Hell, let’s meet in the Purgatory of my hips.” The glorious beauty of the sex innuendo being the *purgatory*: what you have to get yourself through to get to actual Heaven. ugh, Pete Wentz kills me sometimes with the way he uses words.)

He left his conscience pressed between the pages of the Bible in the drawer, but what did it ever do for him? So asks XO, and the gorgeously ambiguous phrasing of those lines KILLS ME. What’s the antecedent to the “it”? His conscience, sure, that’s what he’s thrown carelessly in the drawer. WITH THE BIBLE. Which could also be the “it”: What did that whole faith thing ever get me anyway?

But he wants it *so badly.* My second favorite lyric from Hum Hallelujah (a song that is nothing but excellent lyrics is “I love you in the same way there’s a chapel in a hospital.” There is SO MUCH packed into that line. SO, SO MUCH. And one of the things in there is the ambiguous irresistibility of faith: Sure, maybe the chapel is a last-ditch effort when nothing else works, or maybe that chapel is the ONLY thing that works and the only thing that matters in the whole place. I love you like that, like I don’t know if you’re all I’ve got left or you’re the only thing that matters, and I don’t know which it is but wow, either way, it would be great if you gave me a sign. Ugh that liiiiiine. “Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery?” asks 20 Dollar Nose Bleed.

“I will never believe in anything again,” says (Coffee’s for Closers), but who really believes that? The temptation of belief creeps up in between the proclamation (”kick drum beating in my chest again,” “preach electric to a microphone stand”), undercutting it in the same way that its over-repetition in the song starts to ring hollow (Pete doth protest too much). The comfort that religious people get from their faith in God, Pete wants that. But he can’t get there. He’s always hedging his bets (“in case God doesn’t show” --Thnks fr th Mmrs). He’s always doubtful of God’s good intentions if He is there (”when the world ends, will God go down with it?” --What a Catch, Donnie).

So he tries to find substitutes for this faith he doesn’t have. “My words are my faith,” says Hum Hallelujah, but then, immediately afterward, “To hell with our good name,” so that’s how much actual trust he thinks you should place in that. “We’re a bull and your ears are a china shop.” Look at what a mess my words can make in there if you let them in; that’s what faith does to you, buddy. His gospel is the gospel of giving up (Arms Race). “Follow the disorganized religion of my head,” says West Coast Smoker. “I can work a miracle,” boasts Uma Thurman. “I’m the holy water you have been without,” says Fourth of July.

But he’s not really what he wants to believe in. “We’re saints just swimming in our sins,” Twin Skeleton’s reminds everyone. “If we pray to the Lord,” goes the outro on w.a.m.s., “does he sing on a stage?” Maybe rock and roll is what he should be believing in? “I’m the last damn kid still kicking who still believes,” claims Save Rock and Roll. “I will defend the faith, going down swinging.”

All of which brings us to MANIA. Religion, faith, belief is ALL OVER MANIA. In fact, the entire album is constructed as a journey toward finding the thing you believe in, the thing you have faith in, and finally settling in to cling tight to it. The first song on the album, Stay Frosty, Royal Milk Tea, is struggling with loss of things to believe in: “All my childhood heroes have fallen off or died.” (Champion later has the same theme: “I’m young enough to still believe, but young enough not to know what to believe in.” The most explicit Pete has ever been about his journey toward faith.) But then, in the second song, Last of the Real Ones, the lyrics have found someone to revolve around, someone to be with forever: “the ultra-kind of love,” that ultimate faith. But it’s not quite there yet. There’s doubt in there. “Tell me I’m the only one even if it’s not true.” “There’s been a million before me.” The bridge is expert Fall-Out-Boy song ambiguity. “I’m done with having dreams, the thing that I believe / you drain the fear from me.” Is that “I believe that you drain the fear from me”? Or is that “I’m done with the thing that I believe”? The song’s phrasing lets it be both at once, both a proclamation of faith and a proclamation of doubt, all at the same time.

But things get better. We eventually get to “Church.” An entire song where the religious imagery is pitched toward love (or blowjobs, like, same thing, maybe, for Pete Wentz). “If YOU were church, I’d get on my knees, confess my love, I’d know where to be, my sanctuary, you’re holy to me,” is the refrain of the whole song. It can’t get any clearer than that. Pete Wentz has found what he wants to believe in, and it’s the YOU (whoever that might be ahem just saying that in “Sunshine Riptide,” the she says “I love you ‘til I don’t,” while the You is the “truest feeling yet”). The other enduring theme in MANIA is fakeness and pretend: fake tears, fake friends, people you’re pretending with and around. That theme shows up in Church, too: “I’ve got a few more fake friends and it’s getting hard to know what’s real.” But in Church the proclamation of faith is in the chorus, which means that no matter how anxious Pete gets himself in the lyrics, he resolves back to the central belief: I’ve got you, I know where I should be. YOU’RE what’s real, right here, forget everyone else. 

AND THEN we get Heaven’s Gate. Which revisits Pete’s favorite idea that Heaven is a party he’s going to have to try to crash. But here the song is all about how he’s no longer aimlessly looking for something to believe in; he’s found it: “I’m a missile that’s guided to you.” Maybe he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s chosen the You as his thing to believe in, that the only thing he wants is Your love, but if he’s gotten it wrong, he’s got faith the You is going to get it right and give him the boost he needs into Heaven. “Honey, please come through” and take me along with Your awesomeness, because I’ve decided it’s You I’m going to follow, Your dreams I’m going to make come true, and I’m not going to try to detox from You anymore, I’m just going to go all-in on this whole thing, and in the end, if I don’t make it on the list, will You slip me a wristband?

The album closes out with Young and Menace, with “I’ve lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice,” which is such a beautiful bookend to “I read about the afterlife but I never really lived” in Saturday, like, ugh, that always kills me, look how far Pete Wentz has come, and then finally into Bishop’s Knife Trick: “I’m yours, ‘til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.”

Let’s go back to the places that we never should have left.

Idk, maybe you could read this as: Pete Wentz finally found something to believe in, and it ended up being the person who hasn’t left his side in 20 years, the person he’s never had to pretend with, the person who’s been there through all the fake friends, the person who’s golden and amazing and DEFINITELY going to get it right when Pete doesn’t. I mean, maybe you could read it this way.

[kindahoping4forever]

Santa Baby // Ashton Irwin

Welcome to a very special holiday edition of Hoe Hours! Cass and I have been brainstorming and bouncing ideas off each other about this for a while now and we couldn’t be more excited to share the concepts we came up with. Get ready for one blurb a day from each of us until Monday the 21st when we close out with a full length collab fic!

Be sure to check out the Cal blurb Cass posted over on @cal-puddies​ today and I’ve also linked an event masterlist for you to keep track of all our work in one place.

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash looking like a holiday snacc in a Santa costume. So many Christmas puns and so much banter I don’t blame you for blocking me tbh. Unprotected sex in an established relationship, sex in a public place (I guess?) 

Word Count: 2100

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist 

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You wave goodbye to the last of your co-workers, wishing them a safe and happy holiday. You don’t know what possessed you to volunteer to organize your office’s Christmas party this year but it proved to be worth the stress, as everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.

It all went as planned except for one major hiccup: the guy you’d hired to surprise everyone as Santa had bailed on you that afternoon. With the clock ticking until the party, your boyfriend stepped up and offered to fill the role, even managing to find a store selling a full costume at the last minute. You couldn’t have been more grateful and as a man who loves being the center of attention, Ashton was a great addition to the party, taking photos and chatting with your co-workers in character.

After locking the front door, you head back to the now empty conference room, your mind sorting through everything you needed to do before you could head home. You stop in the doorway and smile fondly when you see Ash, still in costume, stacking chairs in the corner without being asked.

“Great party, baby,” he chirps when he sees you. “Everyone had such a great time, you might not get a lump of coal this year after all.” He winks and plops his Santa hat on your head as you walk by.

“Hahaha,” you respond dryly, shaking the hat off your head. You walk over to the dessert table and start putting cellophane on the leftovers. “You know, I never realized before tonight how much you have in common with Santa? Crazy beard, loud laugh, look fantastic in red… know where all the naughty girls live.”

He loudly laughs, snaking an arm around your waist as he steals a cookie off the tray you’re covering. “Aww, you know you’re my favorite ho ho ho of all,” he kisses your cheek and you both giggle stupidly. The two of you had been entertaining yourselves with these dumb Christmas jokes all evening and you’re shocked there’s still material left to mine.

Ash tosses a few more treats onto a plate and takes a seat on the nearby couch to chat with you. Midway through the conversation, he gets up to remove his Santa coat; you’re surprised and a little confused at how much him unbuckling the thick belt interests you. He shrugs off the coat, revealing a tight white tank top underneath and you feel a familiar desire rising in you; he turns to hang the jacket on the door and you can’t help but appreciate how the costume’s pants cling to him in all the right places.

He returns to his seat to finish eating his snack and telling his story while you distractedly clean up; you try to pay attention to what he’s saying and you’re really trying not to think filthy things about him in a Santa Claus costume but you’re failing in both regards.  

You jump at him loudly clearing his throat and when you spin around to look at him, you find him leaning back with a smirk on his face. “You really think I don’t know your ‘I’m super turned on but refuse to admit it’ face by now?” He teases you. “I’ve seen you making eyes at me all night, baby, don’t be embarrassed you still want to jingle all the way with me dressed like this.”

You shake your head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “I have to say, I’ve never wanted Santa to stuff my stocking like this before but ‘tis the season of miracles,” you wittily respond, loving how his eyes are shining with amusement and the faintest hint of lust.

Ashton pats his legs with a smile. “Come sit on Santa’s lap, baby, tell him everything you want,” he invites.

You only hesitate for a second before you think fuck it and bound over to him. You sit across his legs and wrap your arms around his neck, promptly pulling him into what you intended to be a lusty kiss but you have to pull back to comment after only a few seconds. “It’s very Santa of you to taste like cookies,” you chuckle.

He grins at you, murmuring approvingly as you trace his lips with your tongue, tasting sugar, cinnamon and chocolate. He nibbles at your lips before moving to kiss them, picking up where you left off. Your kisses are playful and unhurried but grow unmistakably hungrier as time goes on. Ash’s hands remain uncharacteristically polite, one sweetly running through your hair, the other lightly tracing designs on your knee.

You smile into his kiss when you realize he’s leaving it up to you to determine where this leads, seeing as you’re at your workplace; you decide to declare your interest by slowly rocking in his lap. It only takes a moment for him to respond to your actions by shifting you to straddle him, ensuring your movement results in better friction for the both of you.

You lick into his mouth as you move against him, feeling him get harder and harder through the thin fabric underneath you. He toys with the buttons on your blouse, briefly pulling away to raise his eyebrows, silently asking if you were comfortable with his intention. Your whispered “yeah” as you pull him back to you has him groaning into your mouth.

His fingers nimbly unfasten your buttons and his mouth immediately attaches to the tops of your breasts. “Always love you in lace, darlin’,” he comments as he plays with your nipples through your bra. “A little sexy for the office but I’m not complaining.” He chuckles as he traces along the balconette cups with his tongue.

You moan, running your fingers through his hair before tugging his head back so you can focus your attention on his neck, lightly scratching at his beard with your nails as your mouth works on marking your favorite spot below his ear. You feel him smile against your touch as you murmur, “Planned to make a move on you after the party,” you confess, gasping at how the seam of your pants catches on his hardness just right, delivering a jolt to your clit. “Figured I’d have to wait ‘til we got home but I’m not complaining.”

Ashton giggles with delight, reaching around to grip your ass and press you down tighter on him. “Who knew you were so eager to be Santa’s little helper?” He teases, giving you a light swat. You smirk and speed up your hips just to get a reaction out of him and he very quickly stills you with a groan. “We’ve either gotta stop this or start fucking, baby, you moving like that is about to make it a White Christmas in these pants,” he chortles loudly at his own joke.

“It is remarkable that I still want to fuck you even when you say shit like that,” you roast him, standing up to remove your pants. He grins and grabs your hips where you stand, kissing over your stomach, making his way down to the wet spot at the front of your panties.

You let him lick you through your underwear for a few seconds before you sit back down, this time getting on all fours beside him, bracing yourself against the arm of the couch. “Here I am ready to let you deck my halls and you’re making jokes when you could be getting your dick out,” you rib him before tossing a flirty look over your shoulder. “Come fuck me already.”

“Well… that’s definitely naughty list behavior, my dear,” he snarks, sitting up to deliver a playful smack to each of your ass cheeks.

You hear him shuffling and you turn to see him taking his pants down just far enough to pull himself out through his boxers. You feel a rush of pride at seeing his cock so ready for you, angry and glistening; you reach for him, using the precum to stroke his length, licking your lips when you hear him softly groan your name. You can't help yourself and bend down to flick your tongue over his slit, needing just a taste of him before you get back in position.

You feel Ash behind you as his fingers sweep your panties to the side and drag through your wetness, reaching up to tap at your clit before moving back down to tease your entrance. You roll your hips to encourage him but he quickly replaces his hand with the tip of his cock. He glides himself through your folds a few times before pushing in, causing you both to exhale in satisfaction.

He makes quick work thrusting into you, gripping your hips tighter and tighter as he gains speed. You lean forward, resting your head on the arm of the couch with your eyes screwed shut, head spinning with pleasure and adrenaline. “Yes, Ash… been thinking about this all night,” you murmur into the furniture.

“Love that you couldn’t wait ‘til we got home, baby,” he huffs, sounding more spent than you expected. “Love knowing that you need my cock that bad.”

You push yourself back up on your hands and start moving back against him, matching him thrust for thrust. “Always want it, baby,” you confess, whimpering as his length hits just where you need. “Fuck… always want to be full of you.”

He strokes his fingers down your back and you’re glad you’re wearing such a thin blouse because you can feel the heat of his touch through the light fabric. The two of you get lost in the moment, falling silent save for the occasional moan or gasp; the slick, slapping sounds of your bodies moving together blends with the hum of the conference room’s fluorescent lights to create a chorus you know you won’t be able to get out of your head the next time you take a meeting in there.

He growls your name with a tone you know means he’s nearly there; you want to reach down to your clit to finish with him but he’s railing you at such a rapid pace, you’re afraid you’ll lose your balance if you move. You’re not sure if you made a frustrated noise or if he’s just that in tune with you but moments later, Ashton pulls you up by your waist and leans you back against him, thrusting relentlessly while he slips a hand between your thighs.

“You ready to cum for me, darlin’?” He whispers in your ear, massaging your clit with precision so practiced, you don’t even get a chance to answer him before you succumb to pleasure. You cry out as your body shakes in his hold and his hips stutter as he begins to follow you over the edge; he groans at how tightly your walls grip him as he gives you one, two, three final strokes before he spills inside you.

The two of you stay still for a moment, stunned and breathing heavily; you twist slightly so you can capture his mouth in a slow, appreciative kiss. He pulls away, pecking your lips one last time before he pulls out, smirking at the whine you always give at how empty you feel without him inside you. He quickly hands you a stack of napkins off the table and you work together to clean up before the office couch gets noticeably defiled.

“Thanks for everything tonight, baby,” you say dreamily, buttoning your blouse back up. “Helping with the party, helping with the afterparty… it was fun.”

Ash tosses you your pants and grins. “Aww, baby. You know I’d do anything to give you a happy holiday,” he says suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

You pull on your pants and shake your head. “Think we’ve hit the bottom of the barrel with this humor, babe,” you snort. “Gotta be honest, I really appreciate you holding back on the ‘here cums Santa Claus’ jokes right now.”

He laughs heartily. “You’ve gotta give me some credit here.” He pulls you to his side and cuddles you close.

“Oh I do,” you tilt your head up and give him a flirty kiss. “In fact, when we get home I might need to spread my holiday cheer for you again."

Ashton giggles as he walks away to grab your coats so you can head out. You give a light smack to his ass, still looking delicious in those tight red pants; he whips his head in reaction and you respond with a wink, "Well, what do ya say, Santa Baby?"

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

@mymindwide​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @pxrxmoore​ @loveroflrh​ @ghostofmashton​ @sexgodashton​ @feliznavidaddycal​  

@castaway-cashton​ @ashtonlftv​ @cashtonasfuck​ @megz1985​ @ashdork-irwin​ @angelicfluffs​ @findingliam-o​ @youngbloodchild​  @irwinsbetch​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

@wiildflower-xxx​ @metalandboybands​​  @realisticnotes​​  @makeamovehemmings​​ @golden166​​ @burstintocolor​​

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@irwindoll​​ @cheekysos​​ @carrielfisher​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​ @creampiecashton​​ @lovelywordsblog​​

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

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@photochic18  @kouska901 @Indermeow  @dantord

[littlemissaddict]

Brother’s Best Friend - Luke x Reader

You can read Part 1 here

Part 2

They find Reggie and Alex over by the basketball game. Neither her or Luke are surprised to find them there as they know how much Reggie’s obsessed with them and he’s always determined to beat Alex, who as she found out on her last trip to the arcade with them, was ridiculously good at it. 

As they got closer she saw the knowing look that they shared when they spotted hers and Luke’s clasped hands between the two of them. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Luke who was already watching her.

“You having a go?” he questions, tilting his head in the direction of the game the two other boys were in the middle of.

“I don’t think so unless you want to see me make a fool of myself” she laughs, shaking her head and hearing Reggie agree.

“I don’t think that’s possible, why don’t you show me what you’ve got and maybe I can help?” he suggests, giving her the puppy dog eyes that he knows fine well no one can refuse.

“Very well Patterson but I’m going to prove you wrong” she mutters, stepping forward to place the coins into the machine, “and after I do I get to choose a game for you” she taunts, sparing a glance at him before the game starts. It also pulls some snickers from the other boys as they know exactly what game she is going to choose. 

The game comes to life and she reaches for a ball, throwing it and surprising herself that she actually manages to get it through a hoop as Luke cheers from beside her. Although that doesn’t last long as she misses the next one and the next until the game ends and when she’s done she only manages to get a total of three balls through the hoops. Letting out a deep breath she turns to Luke ready to tell him ‘I told you so’ but he speaks before she gets the chance.

“Okay so maybe you were right” he smiles, sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, "although I do believe I promised to help" he recalls, his demeanor completely changing as a teasing smile works its way onto his face. 

He moves to stand behind her, his right hand sliding down her arm causing her eyes to widen before she bursts out laughing as she realises what he's doing. "Oh my god, you're an idiot" she says between laughs as he tries to pout at her but soon he's laughing as well.

"What, it's the best way to help" he defends.

"Don't listen to him y/n, it's actually a poor attempt at flirting" Alex quips as he and Reggie laugh at Luke's attempt at a glare as he tries to shoo them away. 

When he turns back to her there's a very faint blush on his cheeks that she wouldn't have been able to tell was there if she wasn’t so close to him.

"I hate them sometimes" he mumbles, shaking his head but a chuckle escapes his mouth, "now where were we" he smiles, making her giggle.

"I do believe you were about to help me win this game" she jokes, playing along as she turns to pick up one of the basketballs. 

She waits for Luke's instructions as he takes his position behind her again, as he speaks his breath tickles her neck causing her to shiver as his right hand comes to rest over hers again.

After a couple of throws she seems to be getting the hang of it so Luke drops his arms from where he's helping her and settles them around her waist instead. He drops his head so that his chin is resting on her shoulder as he practically clings onto her like a koala, the thought makes her lose focus for a few shots as she tries to hold back her laughs and when she recovers enough to carry on she only gets a few more throws before the game ends.

“Well that was definitely better than last time” she says as they both look at the scoreboard, a smile lights up her face when she sees that her score has pretty much tripled.

She turns to thank Luke, only she misjudges how close he is to her and her lips brush against his cheek instead. She pulls back quickly but not before she feels Luke tense around her causing her to panic as she pulls herself out of his grasp and clears her throat.

“Well come on then” she says quickly, walking away and not sparing a glance backwards at the boy which gives her a few seconds to recover from whatever moment she just ruined between them. Luke’s quick to ask where they’re going when he catches up as she comes to a halt just a few steps away from the game she has planned for him. “Well I played your game even though I was terrible at it” she starts and Luke cuts her off.

“Yeah but then you totally rocked it”

“True but the deal was I prove to you how bad I was and then I get to pick a game for you so this is it” she says innocently, looking up at him through her lashes as she motions to the dance game on her right as Luke lets out a groan. 

He surprises her though by taking his position on the platform without complaint as she didn't think he’d do it because she very clearly remembers Reggie telling her that it's the one game in the arcade that Luke will not play.

"You're joining me right" he asks, a hopeful look on his face.

"Well I didn’t want to distract you but I guess I can play as well" she teases, sending a wink his way before stepping onto the platform as well as she begins to scroll through the list of songs, "You ready?" She asks and when he nods she presses play as the music begins.

It starts off easy and she chances a glance at Luke who seems to be nodding along with the music, clearly thinking that this is going to be easier than he thought until the chorus begins. That's when the more complicated steps come in that y/n is pleased to say that she hits with ease, Luke on the other hand is beginning to realise that he got too cocky in his ability. 

“This is ridiculous” he pants from beside her.

“No this is entertaining” Alex’s voice comes from behind them as Reggie makes his agreement known.

The sudden appearance of his friends causes Luke to miss the next few steps and he curses under his breath as he tries to catch up but luckily for him the song is almost finished. When it does he turns round to face the two boys and seeing the amusement on their faces he glares at them,

“And this is why I don’t play”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry you didn’t do too bad” she reassures him after taking a look at his score. She smiles when he turns to face her with a matching smile on his face, “besides you look adorable when you’re concentrating” she teases, taking a step closer to him in an effort to fluster him just like he had done that morning in the kitchen only it backfires when he drops his hands to her waist and pulls her into him.

“But not as adorable as you” he counters, as the sounds of fake gagging come from behind them. Y/n laughs burying her face into Luke’s neck as Luke turns on his friends, “hey, you two where the ones that wanted this” he points out, laughing at their antics.

“Yeah but we didn’t expect to have to witness all this mushy affection” Alex states.

“Well I’ll remember that next time you and Willie start” Luke says, causing Alex to flush and that’s when y/n decides to save Alex from anymore embarrassment by suggesting a little competition, knowing that the boys wouldn’t be able to resist. 

“Okay three games, we split into teams of two” she starts laying down the rules and she feels Luke pull her into his side when she says teams of two, “and losers buy the winners choice of takeout for dinner” she finishes as the three boys nod in agreement. 

The first round consists of y/n vs Alex dance off which she wins but only just. The next round Luke goes against Reggie in the basketball game and loses tremendously which he sulks about. For the final round they decide on the claw machine.

“You sure you want to play that, those machines are practically set up so that you fail” Luke inquires, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyes the game suspiciously.

“One hundred percent and as Reggie knows, I am yet to lose this game” she smiles proudly, glancing over at her brother who is poised and ready to play.

They watch as the machine comes to life as Reggie carefully grips the controller and begins to maneuver the claw. He drops it down and then lets out a cheer as it comes up holding a red plush bear but the triumph is short lived as it drops just short of the opening which makes Reggie let out a shout of frustration as he steps to the side to allow y/n to take her place.

“Hey Luke, pick one” she said, feeling a little bit cocky now that she had seen her brother fail but when he didn’t answer she tried again, “pick one for me” she nodded, hoping she could actually deliver after all this.

“Um, that one, the penguin” he hummed, pointing to the back and white plushie in the centre of the machine.

Okay not too bad, she thought, it wasn’t too far away from the opening that she wouldn’t make it but it also wasn’t too close to the opening that she could be accused of cheating. Letting out a breath she slid the coin into the machine and guided the claw so it was directly above the plushie, dropping it down and hearing Luke cheer as it picked up the one he pointed out. Once it was back up she began to move it back towards the opening but just before she could press the release button the plushie dropped from the claw and she watched knowing there was nothing she could do now. Watching as it fell almost as if it was in slow motion as it landed on the edge of the plastic surrounding the opening. Luck seemed to be on her side as instead of tipping over back into the pile of stuffed animals it fell straight down into the opening ready to be collected.

The cheer that Luke let out was almost deafening, definitely earning them a couple of dirty looks from others in the arcade, and when he spun her around she knew them must look ridiculous but it was nothing compared to the comical looks of defeat on Reggie and Alex’s faces.

“That was just a lucky shot,” Reggie grumbled.

“No, that was a winning shot” Luke corrected as he reached down to get the penguin plushie and presented it to her as if he was presenting an award. He followed it with a kiss to her cheek which had her breath catching in her throat at the feeling of his lips against her skin and she realised that's how it must have felt earlier when she accidentally did it to him. 

“Anyway” Reggie started, pulling her and Luke out of their little moment, “I don’t know why you’re so happy the takeouts coming out of the money mom and dad left so technically you’re paying for it too” he pointed out but not even that could dampen her mood.

“I don’t know, I think I’ve got a lot of things to be happy about” she remarks, gaze drifting from her brother to Alex to the plushie in her arms and finally stopping on Luke, who smiled at her as he draped his arm over her shoulder, “now let's go and get some food, I’m starving” she announces, making the boys chuckle as they make their way back home.

----

Taglist: @90ssunsetcurve @lovesanimals @lilostif16 @mrsweasley06 @fangirlangioma​ Add yourself to the taglist here

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 2 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter Two 

~|Emily Fox|~

Tuesday mornings are somehow the worst. I don’t know if it’s because I spent too long at the Music Store cleaning up and trying to forget about the cute guy with the pretty eyes, or if it’s because the weekend is so freaking far, although closer than it was yesterday. “Hey, Muffin, time to get up. You got to get to school,” Uncle Mitch’s voice wakes me up that morning a second before my alarm goes off. I hate him for always coming in to wake me when I’ve got my alarm set for 7. “Thanks, Uncle Mitch. I’ll be down in a couple minutes,” I tell him with one eye open. “Promise me?” I open my other eye too, only to find him looking at me with that worried look in his eyes. The one that he always has when he thinks I’m nearing rock bottom again. “Promise,” I reply and wink at him to reassure him I’m fine. “Can you go downstairs and make me some coffee, please?” He nods his head curtly and turns on his heel to leave my bedroom, so I can get ready and he can go make some coffee. Throwing my blankets off me, I turn on some music and start getting ready whilst jamming to all the tunes in my music library. It takes me about fifteen minutes until I’m dancing down to the kitchen where Uncle Mitch hands me a coffee and an already buttered toast. “I’m glad to see you dancing again,” he tells me with a smile before sipping from his own coffee. There’s a small smile tugging at his lips, showing his pride a little. “Have you been writing again too?” I shake my head in response. “I mean, I do have like a small verse and a chorus for a song, but I’m really stuck.” Mitch presses his lips together into a somewhat sympathetic smile. I shrug. “I’m sure it’ll come back at some point. Who knows where I’ll get some inspiration.” I finish my toast and coffee quickly, kiss Uncle Mitch on the cheek before grabbing my backpack and heading out the door to school where I meet up with Madison. “Hey Hot Mama!” her voice chimes through the hallway as I’m at my locker unpacking and packing books. “Hey, Chica!” I greet back. “How was work yesterday? Haven’t heard from you at all.” I close my locker, shoulder my backpack and follow her down the hall to our first class of today. “Locked up pretty late last night. Had some of the worst customers ever. First a Karen thinking she knew more about bass guitars than me. Then this dude that thought he was just so slick. It was disgusting. Such a douchebag.” “I sometimes wonder why you still work there,” she shakes her head disapprovingly. “Because I need to pay tuition for the college I want to go to, Mads. Not everyone can get a scholarship.” Madison has received a scholarship from her number one college she’d wanted to go to since she was ten. Mostly because her parents want her to go there, but it’s been planted in her brain ever since then and it hasn’t changed. Especially not when she’d received the message she was going to be able to go on a scholarship. “I know, Ems,” she rolls her eyes at me, knowing how lucky she is, “But I mean, you still could work somewhere else?” I halt in the middle of the hallway, causing another student who was walking behind me to bump into me. I mutter a sorry before turning back to Madison. “There’s nothing I’m better at or feel more at ease than between music instruments, Mads. You of all people should know that.” She tuts then nods her head in agreement. “I know, I know…” she links her arm with mine, “But still… You could have a different job if you wanted to.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I know exactly what she means. However, I don’t answer because as much as I know what she means, she knows my answer without me having to say anything. And that’s how we leave things before going to class. Madison is a sweetheart. We’ve known each other since Kindergarten and there’s no one else I’d rather spill all my secrets to or giggle uncontrollably with when Uncle Mitch says something weird or the Queen Bee, Brianna, says something incredibly dumb. She’s been my rock with Uncle Robert’s death, telling her mother to send me and Uncle Mitch food when we didn’t feel like cooking. She’s listened to my endless rants about Karens and douchebags at the shop, and my heart-wrecking cries when Jake broke up with me last year. Not only that, she believes I can do anything I set my mind to, especially become a successful singer-songwriter. Madison is the only person on this planet I truly need. Madison, Uncle Mitch and Uncle Robert, were he still alive. Nothing more, nothing less. With all of that running through my mind – along with the cute douchebag from the Music Store – I don’t even notice where I’m walking until I’m bumping right into someone. “Oof! Sorry! I—” When I look up, I realize I don’t even want to apologize. I’ve apologized to him more than once and for all the wrong reasons. “Jake.” My apologetic expression changes to a what I hope would be a scowl. Although, let’s be honest, when bumping into an ex-boyfriend you used to love with all your heart, your broken heart still does a little leap. “Emily, hey!” he greets and a smile shines through. I’m not going to lie, I kind of missed that smile. Who wouldn’t miss those perfect plump lips curling up into a perfect smile? Dammit, Emily Fox, focus. Remember this boy broke your heart into a thousand more pieces when it was already broken. “What do you want?” I ask bitterly. “Brianna and I are throwing a party at my place tonight, if you’d like to come…” he trails off at the end, scratching the back of his neck, knowing all-too-well I wouldn’t for any money of the world go to a party thrown by Brianna and Jake. I’d much rather die. “I have to work,” I tell him simply, which is not a lie. Ash asked to close tonight. “Oh, okay…” he trails off again. “Anything else?” I raise an eyebrow at him, hoping, praying, wishing, I can get out of this situation as soon as possible. He opens his mouth to say something, and I nearly want to punch it close, but I refrain from doing so, especially when he closes his mouth again. “No, I’m sorry for bothering you…” He looks more regretful than he did when he broke up with me. “Uhm… I’ll see you around, I guess.” “Yeah,” I simply say and watch him as he walks away from me. There’s nothing I hate more than seeing Jake in the hallway. It’s just another painful reminder of what we were and were not. Just another painful reminder of the worst year of my life thus far.

After school, Madison and I head to the Music Store together. She needs to pick up some groceries from the store on the other side of the street, so she figured she’d walk me to work. While she talks the entire walk there, I keep thinking about Jake, but mostly about the cute douchebag from yesterday, wondering if he’d come back today. He did seem persistent. “See you tomorrow, Ems,” Madison says, waving at me as I enter the store. “See ya, Mads!” I shout back before closing the door behind me, the bell ringing overhead. “Thanks so much for closing up today, Emily,” Ash says first thing when she sees me. “Oh, that’s no problem.” “Just finish up with the last couple of customers and then sweep and sort the cash register.” I nod my head, understanding every single one of my task at hand today. While customers roam around the store, I grab my textbook English and finish up the exercise we’d started making in class, but none of us finished. Someone’ll ask me if they need me or ring the bell obnoxiously if they want to pay. “Hey, could you help me out with something?” I look up from my book to find a tall blonde guy in front of me. His hair falls in swoops, framing his face nicely. The kindest eyes I ever did see. He looks a bit nervous too, which makes me wonder why. “Sure, what can I help you with?” I move from behind the counter as he leads me towards the drum section. “I’m looking for drumsticks, but I can’t seem to find them…” he tells me, fidgeting with his jacket. I stare at him for a moment and blink a couple of times. “Oh, you won’t find them here, sweetie. They’re over there!” I point to another side of the store. “I’ll show you,” I beckon him with my finger and, with him in tow, make my way over to where we keep our drumsticks and other accessories for the music instruments. “Here they are!” I point to the racks filled with different kind of drumsticks. The boy scans the area and then picks out a pair he likes best. “Thank you,” he says with the sweetest smile. “So, you’re a drummer,” I state more than ask as we both make our way back to the cash register. “Yep, I’m in a band with my two best friends. Sunset Curve, we’ve been playing bars in Los Angeles for a while now, but don’t seem to be too lucky to find some sort of manager that could help us out, you know?” I make a mental note to check out Sunset Curve, and simply nod my head while putting his purchase into the register. “19 bucks please,” I tell him with a smile. “I hope luck is on your side soon…” I trail off, realizing I don’t know his name. “Owen,” he says as if reading my mind. He hands me the nineteen bucks in cash. “Emily,” I introduce myself, “Hey, if you want, our Music Store holds open mic nights on Saturdays, once a  month or something, if you ever want to bring your band down here? Music execs scout out here sometimes too.” Owen’s smile widens, making my heart swell with happiness. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.” He taps the counter once, then says, “And thanks for helping me find these.” He holds the drumsticks up so I can see. “You’re very welcome. I’ll see you around, Owen.” “Yeah, see you around, Emily.” He’s definitely gay. But the sweetest guy that’s ever walked into the Music Store in forever. He was so nervous and fidgety; it was kind of endearing. What a kind soul. I hope he gets what he’s wishing for.

It finally starts to slow down in The Music store around half past six, just before closing time. So, I begin to sort out the sheet music that’s been scattered around by musicians. I’d almost even forgotten about Cute Douchebag until the bell over the door rings and he’s walked in. I look up with a smile at first, thinking it’ll be the last paying customer of the day, wanting to greet them. But when I see him with his cute-ass beanie and his adorable brown eyes and his sweet smile, the smile falters.

“Make it quick, I’m about to close up.” I turn around to head to where the sheets are supposed to go. It’s silent for a moment until I hear him cough behind me.

“Can you ring these up for me, please?” he asks, handing me a pack of guitar picks. A little confused about his sudden change of behavior, I nod my head slowly and put them into the cash register.

“11 dollars 96, please.” Our eyes meet for a second when he gives me the money, and a jolt rushes through my entire body. I’ve never seen eyes so vivid and full of color. Everyone always says brown eyes are boring. But his. His aren’t. His are near gold.

Focus, Emily.

“Hey, would you mind if I played here for a while? My parents are kind of being jerks and I kind of have to escape, if you know what I mean…” he trails off near the end, our eye contact breaking as he casts his gaze to the floor.

“Uhm, yeah, sure. Just stay out of my way as I clean up.” He shoots me a thankful smile before scooting over to the guitars and picking out his favorite to play on. I need a moment to regain my composure before I can actually begin cleaning up.

And that’s how the Cute Douchebag and I spent our evening together. With his sweet melody flowing throughout the store as I clean up and count the money in the register.

“You done yet?” I ask him once I’ve grabbed my backpack and the keys to lock up. The boy looks up at me again with those golden eyes of his, making my knees feel weak. Why does he have this effect on me? This doesn’t make any sense. He should repulse me by the way he acted the other day, not make me feel weak in the knees. Nothing makes sense anymore.

“Uhm, sure yeah.” He gets up and puts the guitar back in its place before walking over to the door with me. “My name’s Charlie, by the way,” he tells me when he turns once he’s outside on the street.

“I don’t care,” I lie.

“I’m pretty sure you do, Emily.” Him knowing my name catches me off guard for a moment and not even just because it’s creepy that he knows it, but because it weirdly sounds good rolling off his lips.

“What makes you so sure of that, Charles?” I notice his full name – if that’s his full name – catches him off guard too. “That’s what I thought. Now, please, leave, so I can have a pleasant rest of the night.” He raises his eyebrow, seeing right through me. I know it. He knows it. But he still turns and leaves with that obnoxious beautiful smirk of his.

I hate that he makes me feel this way.

Taglist: @parkeret​

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[bobbystompy]

My Top 88 Songs Of 2020

Previously: 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Though we couldn’t get as trim as last year’s 75, still very happy to keep this under 100 for the second year in a row. This was a very difficult year in many ways, but music helped make it more bearable.

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 them out for yourself; there is also a Spotify playlist at the bottom that includes the majority of the songs

Usually a pump up video goes here, but 2020 had a different energy, so Michael, take us in.

88) Katy Perry - “Smile”

Even Katy Perry’s good songs are a swirling spiral of maxed out auto-tune. This one is just fine. It’s... fine.

87) All Time Low - “Trouble Is...”

Is All Time Low the Katy Perry of pop punk?

86) Tee Grizzley f/ Payroll Giovanni - “Payroll”

I have never heard of Payroll Giovanni, but I have two questions:

1) Is this his song, and he got Tee to jump on it?

2) Or, did Tee write a song called “Payroll” and think to himself “You know who would be great on this? Payroll Giovanni!”

Favorite stretch:

Listen, we is not the same, you say "door", I say "dough" You say "floor", I say "flow", you say "for sure", I say "fa'sho"

85) Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande - “Rain On Me”

Coming out in 2020 probably hurt this song, because I have no, like, out of the house memories with it. You can only have so much fun with Big Singers Singing over a pulsing beat when it’s coming from the phone in your kitchen as you’re indifferently scrambling eggs.

84) Benjamin Gibbard - “Life In Quarantine”

Now this is a song you can do nothing to; almost feels like it’s reluctant to even exist. It got released in March of 2020, so the outro (“No one is going anywhere soon”) served as a too sad reminder/mantra for what the year was about to be. Second shout out to Gibbard for the many YouTube sets he put together during the early stages of the pandemic (when so many of his peers were trying to figure out the next move).

83) Cardi B f/ Megan Thee Stallion - “WAP”

This felt less like a song and more of a “whoa, did you see the music video?!” and/or a means to relitigate the eternal question “What is the sexual line in music?” And while it was fun to watch people freak the fuck out... the quality itself really needed to be better.

(Note: YouTube video is the edited chorus; explicit version here)

82) McKayla Maroney - “Wake Up Call”

Former Olympic gymnast McKayla Maroney -- of medals and memes fame -- dips her toe into the music waters. It’s inside-the-box modern pop music. One thing that’s hard to escape: it doesn’t really sound like her.

81) Chelsea Cutler - “Sad Tonight”

He vocals really remind me of Alessia Cara.

80) blink-182 - “Quarantine”

Blink doing a Bad Religion impression. Docked a few points for the very weak chorus lyrics (“Quarantine, fuck this disease”). That said, as serious as the song comes off, there are some clever punchlines to be found.

79) Dave Hause & Brian Fallon - “Long Ride Home”

This is kind of a nothing song, but it’s easy listening. Also, if your guitar leads can’t clear the “Could Bobby have written or performed this?” bar, then said leads are probably pretty weak.

78) Travis Scott & Kid Cudi - “THE SCOTTS”

Two artists who pair so well together, it’s hard to tell who exudes more influence on the track (eh, that’s not true, it’s Travis Scott, but Kid Cudi is more of a roommate than guest). They want you to be high by the time the instrumental outro hits.

77) The Strokes - “Bad Decisions”

The beginning sound feels somewhat evolved, but by the time Julian Casablancas croons “Making bad decisions”, the song feels like it could be on their debut album “Is This It?”. And it goes in and out like that from there.

76) Thundercat - “Dragonball Durag”

Thundercat is one of those artists I wish I liked more, but when the occasional track does hit, it’s a momentary glimpse into what real fans seem to always see.

75) TI f/ Lil Baby - “Pardon”

Standard fare. Lil Baby’s cameo is very meh.

74) Porches - “Do U Wanna”

For a song that repeatedly asks “Do you want to dance?”, it sure makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion.

73) NOFX - “Thatcher Fucked The Kids” 

On the best-named album of the year (“West Coast vs. Wessex”), Frank Turner and NOFX cover each other’s material. To start us off, the legends take a song from 12 years ago about British politics from 40 years ago and, well, very easily apply it to right god damn now in America.

72) The Bombpops - “Dearly Departed”

Ahh, my year’s first cancelled concert. The listed names in V1 always make me want to skip this song -- but patience, grasshopper. Chorus is aight.

71) Ratboys - “Alien With A Sleep Mask On”

This band name will never match what the music sounds like.

70) Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - “She’s There”

The vocals in this song channel, like, four completely different singers for me, ranging from Bob Dylan to Cloud Nothings.

69) NOBRO - “Don’t Die”

An anthemic chorus meant to be belted in a room with sweaty strangers.

68) Oliver Tree f/ blink-182 - “Let Me Down”

The original solo version of this song is 1:52, and though the blink cameo pushes it over the dreaded two minute mark, it adds enough diversity to justify the choice (keep an eye out for the quick Green Day lyrical nod in the back half).

67) AJJ - “Normalization Blues”

This dropped in January, and if you thought the year was bad then. Punk News:

I'll admit I do want the album to age badly because I really don't want to have to listen to it years later and still say this is the world we're living in.

Said album being titled “Good Luck Everybody” is straight cryptic.

66) Selena Gomez - “Rare”

Very chill for big pop; triplet rhythm singing in the chorus gets me erry time.

65) Kid Cudi & Eminem - “The Adventures Of Moon Man & Slim Shady”

Cudi’s second split collab yields bigger results than his Travis Scott joint (admittedly with a worse beat here). It rarely ever hurts to let Eminem do the heavy lifting.

64) Alkaline Trio - “Smokestack”

A little cheerier than the average Alk3 song, but Dan Andriano seems like he’s been in a great place for a long time now; confident and in control. For me, the whole song builds up to the “You changed my life” chorus.

63) Frank Turner - “Scavenger Type”

Here, Frank takes on the acoustic closer to NOFX’s legendary 1994 album “Punk In Drublic”. Though the energy boost is most noticeable, my favorite part is how you can hear how much Turner loves this song as his melody bursts on the verses.

62) Mike Posner - “Alone In A Mansion”

Mike Posner, an artist I have a very soft spot for, released a storytelling concept album in 2020. From the intro track:

This album was written, recorded, and produced over a period of two weeks in Detroit, Michigan in my parents' basement. It's meant to be listened to all the way through. At least on the first listen. And it's about 36 minutes long. If you can't devote 36 minutes of undivided attention to this album, I again politely ask that you turn it off and return at a later time. I love you and I thank you for taking the time to listen in the first place. Also, it's important to note that the characters and the stories in this album are completely fictional. In addition, anyone struggling with a mental illness - depression, schizophrenia - should not listen to this album. Turn it off.

So those are the stakes. Pulling this song -- the record’s closer -- feels unfair void of context, but them’s the breaks.

61) Nada Surf - “Just Wait”

Heavy hitting chorus without having to be heavy; this could really work in a movie.

60) Matt Pond PA - “Wild Heart”

This having only 805 views on YouTube is criminal.

59) Liquid Death - “Unnecessary And Unimpressive”

Liquid Death -- in this iteration -- is a punk rock supergroup with members of Rise Against, Anti-Flag, The Lawrence Arms, and The Bombpops. If that didn’t interest you enough, all lyrics in the project (which, I believe, is for charity) come from hateful comments or negative reviews. Of the four artists involved, this sounds most like a Bombpops song, with Jen on lead vocals as others chime in.

58) PUP - “Rot”

Off my silver medalist for album name of the year (“This Place Sucks Ass”), PUP doesn’t do anything new here, but it was relieving to see them still going in 2020 when so many others got roadblocked, both physically and creatively.

57) Paul Harrold and the Nuclear Bandits - “Massanutten”

This reminds me of local Chicago artist Al Scorch. So much earnestness in the vocals, but a little more prairie for Harrold compared to speakeasy for Scorch. This would be a good road trip song. And I’m not talking about singalong... more for the stretch where you want to sit in silence and look out at the sun-kissed land blazing by. The song’s greatest victory is getting me to like something that cracks 6:00.

Note to future me: Massanutten is in Virginia (saved you a Google).

56) Kesha f/ Sturgill Simpson, Brian Wilson & Wrabel - “Resentment”

Kesha has been vulnerable in the past but never this stripped down sonically; the chorus would feel right at home on a country radio station. Love a good bridge, too.

55) Megan Thee Stallion f/ Beyoncé - “Savage (Remix)”

An up-and-comer pairing with a legend rarely lets down when both sides are this locked in. Bey wins. Fav line: “If you don't jump to put jeans on, baby, you don't feel my pain”.

She matches flows with Megan but also brings melody. Her blessing takes this song from pretty damn good to undeniably great.

That beat, too.

54) Red City Radio - “Baby Of The Year”

If all you want to do right now is grab a drink in a bar, here is a video built to troll.

(Also: a Liquid Death cameo?!)

53) Nathaniel Rateliff - “And It’s Still Alright”

The last time Mr. Rateliff had our attention, he just wanted a drink. That hit had a chorus with the very-sad-when-removed-from-the-song “If I can't get clean, I'm gonna drink my life away” lyric. Well, our man got sober since. And when the party is over, the introspection comes.

52) Direct Hit! - “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?”

Listening to slowed down Direct Hit! is like watching Usain Bolt lightly jog. It kinda makes sense because the core action is there, but it also feels sort of incorrect.

51) Hayley Williams - “Dead Horse”

Solo Hayley songs have this feel like they could do anything at any time... but then don’t. This one does the same until a very fun chorus breaks it up.

50) Kid Cudi f/ Phoebe Bridgers - “Lovin’ Me”

Probably the most improbable collab on this list (if 2020 hadn’t repeatedly taught us to not be surprised by anything).

49) The Homeless Gospel Choir - “Don’t Compare”

Listening to The Homeless Gospel Choir is kind of like getting a dedicated pep talk from a good friend... while fire rains down from the sky.

48) Carly Rae Jepsen - “Let’s Sort The Whole Thing Out”

Queen vocals with one prince of a tempo; this chorus is Sour Patch Kids riding Twix logs down a soda pop waterfall -- and it’s a b-side.

47) Green Day - “Meet Me On The Roof”

I like this song because it reminds me of summer and because it doesn’t really sound like Green Day (but still totally does).

46) Broadway Calls - “Meet Me On The Moon”

Promise -- swear -- I was gonna compare this Broadway Calls song to Green Day before realizing they both had titles about meeting in an escalated location. That said, I did put them next together on purpose to more coherently make this point.

45) David Rokos - “Building Bridges”

My buddy Dave wrote this song, and I think I’ve asked him three times what “burning sugar” meant (he says it’s a reference to absinthe). This song will make you want to travel to enjoy not only the places but the people around you.

44) Charli XCX - “claws”

Charli XCX keeps it futuristic in a video that could be described as sexy, cheesy, goofy, and playful-yet-serious.

43) Brian Fallon - “Lonely For You Only”

This is too easy and should not work (and maybe doesn’t). But that chorus... that circular phrasing... it still takes me all the way out. But I’m the same cat who proposed while a Gaslight Anthem cover was playing.

42) Waxahatchee - “Fire”

This song could be in a different language and hit just as hard.

41) Harry Styles - “Adore You”

Purifying pop.

40) Local H - “Hold That Thought”

Hardest rock song thus far. Local H was one of the first artists to play “live” once the lockdown hit (on a simultaneous YouTube/Facebook stream), and watching them attack music in their Chicago practice bunker felt a little bit like taking in the end of the world. New songs, old songs, covers -- it didn’t matter; their cool, unmatched apathy fits a pandemic or peacetime.

Ironically, was able to see them live in 2020, as they played a socially distanced, outdoor drive up concert in a minor league baseball parking lot. It wasn’t the same, but it was still something.

39) Crazy & The Brains - “I Don’t Deliver Pizza Anymore”

This song is just cool*. The verses feel tense and crucial, it starts to unspool in the pre-chorus, and the chorus itself feels like a light comedown more than anything else.

(* -  though the lyric video is docked some points for spelling y’all as “ya’ll”)

38) Drake f/ Fivio Foreign & Sosa Geek - “Demons”

Menacing Drizzy can be very fun from time to time. Also more than happy to keep “Toosie Slide” very far away from this list.

37) Hey Dad!!! - “Life’s Alright”

Small band, big song; though summer feels light-years away.

36) insignificant other - “i’m so glad i feel this way about you”

This song lands a big haymaker in the first few seconds, so it was probably a good call to pull back some for the chorus and, eventually, outro.

35) BTS - “Dynamite”

Heard they made the lyrics bad on purpose for their English hit, which makes sense, because they’re bad. That said, if you listen knowing they’re supposed to be bad, it kinda makes them... good? Listen, 771 million views would have me singing nursery rhymes in Pig Latin.

34) DaBaby f/ RODDY RICCH - “ROCKSTAR”

Someone said this could be the song of the summer, but, because there wasn’t really a summer, I feel like I only heard it once all year. Also, are we really pretending Post Malone* didn’t just do a “like a rockstar” song three years ago?

(* - and N.E.R.D. before that and Cypress Hill before that... though N.E.R.D. only waiting a year after Cypress, so maybe DaBaby actually was patient)

33) The Front Bottoms - “the hard way”

Don’t take it easy on the animal / I am the animal

Not quite sure what this line means, but I fixate on the phrasing every single time. This song sounds resigned in a very self-aware way.

32) The 1975 - “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)”

For a band called The 1975, they sure sound like they’re on their ‘80s shit here. Also, a real thing that happened:

Me: Is he coercing her to get naked?! I thought this band was woke.

/scans lyrics

/notices “She said” before the “Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” line

Me: Ahh.

Sax solo, take us out.

31) Charly Bliss & PUP - “It’s Christmas And I Fucking Miss You”

A song that is already a forever staple on all my future Xmas playlists.

30) 2 Chainz f/ Ty Dolla $ign & Lil Duval - “Can’t Go For That”

Shorty said she love me / I said “I love me back”

This is a real genre blur; rap at its core, but also soulful, funky, and very danceable. Damn creative.

29) Billie Eilish - “Therefore I Am”

Billie's 2020 gave a few singles -- but no new album -- and a body shaming scandal where the backlash to the backlash probably caused more headlines than the tweet that started it all. Still, she stays on cruise control above the clouds; can all eyes be on you if they can’t even make you out?

Video for this is fun, too. Not sure if her running amok in an empty mall is more of a COVID necessity or commentary on the dying retail industry. As always with her, fill in your own blanks for now.

28) Future f/ Drake - “Life Is Good”

This was my most listened to rap song in the first half of the year, and bumping again now, almost forgot how good it is. Drake just chasing one-liner Instagram captions in the first half:

- “Haven’t done my taxes, I’m too turnt up”

- “N****s caught me slipping once, OK, so what?”

- “B****, this is fame not clout, I don’t even know what that’s about”

And, of course, “Workin’ on the weekend like usual”. The man could make anything glamorous. Let’s hit that H&R Block, bro!

Future’s back half is a totally different song and feels mostly like noise, but the vibe is cool, so I don’t even totally mean that in a bad way. You can even make out a “Got Promethazine in my blood and Percocet” lyric to mark your Future bingo card and immediately move on.

27) I’m Glad It’s You - “The Silver Cord”

This song feels like cold air blowing on the back of your neck.

(Sidebar: thought this band was called The Silver Cord until literally right now)

26) The Spill Canvas - “Mercy”

A dreamy, distorted, at-home version of whatever you remember The Spill Canvas sounding like. This song is confessional and at peace, with the Grade A self-loathing we’ve come to love from this band.

25) 100 gecs f/ Charli XCX, Rico Nasty & Kero Kero Bonito - “ringtone (remix)”

100 gecs first hit my radar with the explosively obnoxious “money machine”, but that’s a 2019er, so this remix to “ringtone” will have to do. It’s catchy like a younger sibling persistently singing a song you’re sick of hearing*.

(* - /only child trying to work in sibling analogies)

24) iann dior f/ Machine Gun Kelly & Travis Barker - “Sick And Tired”

Iann Dior -- ...yeah -- channels Juice WRLD on the hook, and MGK/Travis Barker buoy a track that, honestly, doesn’t really even need the help.

23) Nick Lutsko - “Unleash Your Spirit”

Lutsko hit my radar on Twitter with some legendary political anthems (word to the RNC and Dan Bongino + his Dashboard Trump parody). “Unleash Your Spirit” is the song I most fear hearing (or even thinking of) within a few minutes of going to bed. Not because it’s Halloween theme is scary -- because it’s that god damn catchy. It permeates your brain. True story: a week ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with “Bobbing for apples with the boys” so ingrained in my head, it felt like someone was standing there yelling it through a megaphone.

22) Dogleg - “Kawasaki Backflip”

Bad 2020 robbed many concerts from us, and not getting to see this band live might take the cake. I end the year liking them but could have been *all in* with the right performance and the right venue. Also, Song Title of the Year until further notice.

21) Eminem f/ Juice WRLD - “Godzilla”

Eminem has all of the words and all of the lyrical dexterity, but sometimes it feels like there isn’t anything to ground him. Enter: one of the best beats he’s ever spit on and a Juice WRLD hook to give it pop angle. But let’s not put Slim in the corner -- when he starts accelerating at the end, it’s is a true “holy fuck” moment. It sounds faster than if you actually fast forwarded.

The video ends with a touching audio message from Juice WRLD.

20) Soccer Mommy - “circle the drain”

This song is so gloriously ‘90s; it leans in and does not care.

19) Sam Russo - “Always Lost”

The first time I met you, we were on the last bus You passed me a bottle, and I knew you were one of us

Took 25 words to hook me; I was txting friends before the first chorus even hit.

18) Sincere Engineer - “Trust Me”

Deanna Belos pushes her vocals in this one. I asked about the performance, and she said it was one of the first ones they recorded in the studio, but when they were done and listening back to everything, she re-did this track because her throat was much more used to what the song required.

“That’s why it sounds like I’m on roids lol,” she added.

17) Jay Electronica f/ JAY-Z - “Flux Capacitor”

Jay Electronica signed to Roc Nation in November of 2010. At of the start of 2020, he had still -- STILL HOW FUCKING STILL -- not released a debut album. When he announced it was finally dropping in February, it was met with skeptic eyes. He’d “announced” before. Shit, he’d even posted track lists of albums that never saw the light of day. He was a tease’s tease. It ended up getting a release date of March 12. As the pandemic got really bad in the March 11 zone, he finally had an actual reason to delay the proceedings (the plan: a studio live stream listening party*).

But no -- this is Jay Electronica. Why wouldn’t he drop as the world was ending? The same reason why his costar wouldn’t not have a watch like a Saudi prince. It had to end for it to happen. I wish I saved the memes, because they were fantastic. All I have is my own Twitter memory to prove it happened:

I love this song entirely: the “get the gat” hook (soooo New Orleans), Hov calling out the NFL/acquaintances clout chasing his potential death/rapping forever bars, Jay Elect’s ham-fisted and awkward ass Farrakhan line. Everything is exactly where it should be.

Final verdict on the full album: I don’t know, a B or B+? It had a lot more Jay-Z than expected (wooo), but -- and I rarely say this -- it could have actually been longer.

16) New Found Glory - “Greatest Of All Time”

NFG with a song referencing the Jordan-Rodman-Pippen Bulls only a few months before “The Last Dance” aired. Dare we call it marketing genius? The punk beat does not care; the punk beat is too busy taking souls.

15) Dave Hause f/ Amythyst Kiah & Kam Franklin - “Your Ghost”

“I can’t breathe”

On the heels of the George Floyd/BLM protests came Dave Hause’s somber attempt to capture the moment, desperation, and hurt. On a podcast, he said he was aware he might not ever lead the movement but still wanted to contribute something in an effort to use his platform as a white artist to change someone, anyone’s mind going forward.

14) Taylor Swift - “this me trying”

The chorus makes me feel like the crowd is parting like the Red Sea on a high school -- shit, no, middle school -- dance floor; smoke machine and all. Your crush is waiting for you on the other side. What are you going to say?

13) Phoebe Bridgers - “Kyoto”

Phoebe is one of the best lyricists out because of her specificity, but even though this song is about her dad, you can really fit it to your own narrative.

12) The Lawrence Arms - “Last, Last Words”

The Lawrence Arms wrote their new record (which singer Chris McCaughan described as “this end of the world outpost”) prior to the pandemic, but once you start to process album themes -- and research its namesake -- you do wonder. All of this, combined with some “Catcher In The Rye” references, and we’ve got ourselves a winning formula.

Dressed to kill for oblivion 

11) New Lenox - “Fairytale Of Gary, Indiana”

Your boy plays drums and is on the cover art for this one. Dave Rokos wrote the tune, which references The Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York”. Good news: no slurs in the Gary version. We’ll have you in and out in 90 seconds. Also: say hello to the recording debut of Alisa Caruso (some backup vox at the end). 

10) Beach Slang - “Tommy In The 80s”

My most played song of 2020, but it really was more of a byproduct of how early in the year the album dropped. I’m still such a sucker for it, though. Other than forced nostalgia, not totally sure what the track is about. Did learn Beach Slang recruited former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson to play on their LP, which was named -- /deepest of breaths -- “The Deadbeat Bang of Heartbreak City” (so maybe it has something to do with that).

9) Juice WRLD f/ Mashmello - “Come & Go”

The :55 mark. Wait until the :55 mark. When the guitar kicks in and tempo doubles, we have a real “oh, shit!” moment. I knew who Juice was when he passed but only “Liquid Dreams”. His 2020 album (“Legends Never Die”) showed us of what could have been; 55 minutes, loaded with cameos and creativity and experimentation. This song had me in its gravitational pull immediately. By the end of the year, they were using it on sports broadcasts, and it felt like a ubiquitous part of the culture.

One of my favorite days of 2020 was visiting the Juice mural in Chicago with my wife. We went impulsively during the day after someone posted a picture on Twitter.

I snapped one of my own and posted to IG with the Signals Midwest lyric “There is such quiet grace in private moments in public spaces”. The band responded with “RIP JUICE”; the perfect online exchange.

Shortly after, I was out with a different group of friends, and we went back at night. This time, it was protected by a fence you had to squeeze past. When we got through, there were kids in there smoking, taking pictures, just hanging out; empty liquor bottles lined the bottom of the mural. Even though it didn’t take all that long to make it there, it still felt like a journey and total ‘movie moment in real life’; a complete rarity in a year like 2020.

8) Mac Miller - “Good News”

Maybe I’ll lay down for a little...

Sadly continuing the theme of artists gone too soon, we have this reflective Mac Miller single, which feels more like self-eulogy than traditional rap. You feel it the entire time. The song crests with “There’s a whole lot more for me waitin’ on the other side”, and it conveys a readiness for whatever happens next.

7) The Dirty Nil - “Done With Drugs”

I don’t pray to Jesus or even own a suit

We lost the creators of our last two songs to substances, and, if we are to take this song at face value, The Dirty Nil don’t want to go down the same path. Drying out never sounded so cool and defiant... until the IKEA suggestion.

6) The Weeknd - “Blinding Lights”

Uptempo Abel is undefeated. My favorite pop song of 2020 has you feeling like you’re speeding through the empty streets of nighttime Las Vegas in a stolen car; indifferent to your environment, only tuned in to your personal desire.

And, on the lamer side of the spectrum, it spawned a catchy TikTok dance.

5) Spanish Love Songs - “Self-Destruction (As A Sensible Career Choice)”

It won’t be this bleak forever... yeah, right.

SLS has always been over-the-top with their lyrics spotlighting the hopelessness of the human condition -- so it was the *perfect* combo to being locked inside with nothing looking to forward to. Bonus: fun cake video.

Though the song’s core is uncut despair, a random moment I remember from 2020 was my wife telling me “I can hear you smiling as you’re singing” from another room as I belted the despondent chorus.

4) Worst Party Ever - “False Teeth”

This song sounds like The Front Bottoms; insecure yet so full.

3) Run The Jewels - “the ground below”

There were a lot of songs *about* 2020, but I’m not sure any artist soundtracked what being alive now is like more than RTJ. My favorite rap song and rap record of 2020.

Fav Killer Mike line: “Not a holy man, but I'm moral in my perversiveness / So I support the sex workers unionizing their services”

Fav El-P line: “I'll slap a dying child he don't pronounce my name correct”

2) The Menzingers - “America Pt. 2″

The Menzingers unexpectedly released an acoustic, re-done version of 2019′s “America (You’re Freaking Me Out)” single. It dropped on my birthday -- June 5th, 2020 -- as the rage in this country boiled over and protesters took to the streets. Though some of the lyrics remained the same, the new ones were changed with true purpose:

Well George Floyd was murdered by a cop The whole world saw the video and watched Now justice is long overdue Grab your pitchforks, we’re heading to Pennsylvania Avenue

I had nothing left when the first pre-chorus hit: “I hope the Devil and Donald and Mitch McConnell rot in hell for all tomorrows”. Tattoo this on my fucking soul.

All funds from the song were donated to Community Bail Funds (via Act Blue) & Campaign Zero. I purchased the track before hearing a note.

1) Machine Gun Kelly - “My Bloody Valentine”

Going into the year, I couldn’t tell you the difference between Machine Gun Kelly and Mac Miller -- now they’re both fixtures in this Top 10. All I really knew about MGK involved tattoos and a rap battle lost to Eminem (not that anyone ever beats Eminem).

In 2020, he took a punk/emo turn, with the services of GOAT drummer Travis Barker and new squeeze Megan Fox at his side. This song’s lyrics could potentially be cheesy but aren’t -- they all land. From the simulation going bad to not wanting “fake love” to all the damn second guessing and the earnestness that just won’t let you off the mat.

Every piece to the puzzle adds something: the messy hair, the Ken doll build, the forced iconic pink guitar that now feels actually iconic. It was almost like no one had any fun this year so he could have all of it on our behalf. There’s a half second shot of him sticking his tongue our during the pre-chorus, a joy 99.99% of us never got to feel.

The album itself was just as fantastic*; a 2000′s pop punk throwback with a Halsey duet, horrible skits (hi, Pete Davidson FaceTime), OpIvy lyrical nod (complete with a royalty check), a warp speed punk track that doesn’t even crack the minute mark, your token 6/8 ballad, acoustic closer (about his daughter), and some experimentation that leaves the new genre but still stays nearby; shades of Lil Peep, if he had Blink-182 as his backing band. Speaking of, please do not miss Travis’ fill at the 2:30 mark.

(* - named “Tickets To My Downfall”... woof)

MGK could get cancelled tomorrow, but we’ll always have this year in a bottle. The acoustic version of the song (sung in a lower resister), the 10 minute making of video (that I watched, uh, twice)... shit, he even turned it into a medley at the start of 2021.

It might be cliche to say “stay winning”, but when someone stacks this many W’s with no end in sight, what the fuck else do you call it? Real love.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Here is the Spotify playlist (includes 87 of the 88 songs).

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (11)

The scar on her lip is kind of a pain.

It feels strange for one thing, tough and bumpy, making her aware of its presence every time her mouth shifts or when she gets too excited while talking or when she yawns too widely.

Of course, once she’s reminded that it’s there, she want to fiddle with it. But for some reason whenever she gets bored enough to do so, Naruto or Sakura or whoever’s sitting closest to her will grab her arm and say “No.” in a Very Stern Voice.

It almost feels a little demeaning. Not quite, but almost.

What is demeaning is Uchiha glaring at her, and demanding, “Are you some kind of coward?”

She blinks, thermos of miso halfway to her mouth. “Beg your pardon?”

He eyes her disdainfully. “We’re going to be ninja. We fight to kill our enemies—”

“I’m going to be a pirate, actually.” She interrupts.

Naruto snorts softly into his rice.

“—Pirates kill people too, shut up.” Uchiha hisses.

“Wait. Is this about the biting thing?” She asks, incredulous. Surely not. Uchiha is a clan kid. He should know how this works—

Uchiha sniffs imperiously. “You’ll just drag me down if you always need Sakura to save you from a fight.”

Apparently not.

Robin give her strength.

“Hey!” Kiba yells. “Sakura beating up Ami was totally badass. Mizuki-sensei shoulda given her a medal instead of detention!”

Sakura goes as pink as her hair as Akamaru yips in agreement, mumbling something about it not being a big deal around her second stick of dango. She does return the fist bump Kiba offers though.

“That’s not the point.” Uchiha retorts dismissively. “The point is we’re going to fight and kill as ninja— don’t.” He stabs an accusing finger in her direction and she raises her hands in mock surrender. “And Ketsugi never fights back. She says stuff, but then she runs away, or lets other people take care of it, or hurts herself. It’s weak, stupid cowardice.”

The last word is said with such vehemence that it’s hard for her not to flinch.

“Well, it’s not like I have any choice.” She snaps, irritably.

Uchiha scoffs. “What are you talking about?! The only thing stopping you is your own stupid, cowardly ideas about pacifism!!”

She blinks, trying to process that last bit. “What? What on earth are you on about?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” He screams, all but jumping out of his seat, “It’s just like him! I’m not watching another one—not when I can stop it!!”

Uchiha looms over her, glaring down, chest heaving from the force of his yelling.

She has no idea what he’s talking about. She feels more worried for him than insulted at this point.

“Hey Shino.” Chouji cuts in, munching on his second onigiri. “There are insects that don’t get along with your bugs, right? Ones that weren’t born in your hive?”

Shino tilts his head, letting his insects eat bits of strawberry from his daifuku off his finger. “That is a technically true statement. Why? Because while my kikaichū do not have natural enemies in the way ants and termites are opposed to one another, there are several species of insect and arachnid that would prey upon them, which have been utilized by imitator clans in other hidden villages.”

“Right.” Chouji continues. “So, let’s say you found one of these bugs that eats them had injured one of yours. Not killed, but injured. What do you do?”

Shino stiffens, but replies, “I would exterminate it. Why? Because it has proven itself a viable threat to my colony.”

“Wh-that doesn’t mean anything!” Uchiha interrupts. “It’d have to be one of Aburame’s bugs attacking another of the same hive, since Ketsugi was born here, so—”

“No I wasn’t.”

Uchiha actually has the gall to shoot her a disbelieving look. “Yes you were.”

“No I wasn’t.” She hisses, leaning forward. “I was born in Iron, like my father. One of my earliest memories is him and my mother leaving the country, on the run from something that made it better to drug their baby rather than let me cry and have whatever it was find us.”

A hush falls over the table.

“That would explain why you’re here, in Konoha.” Shikamaru says slowly. “Even if it’s not the closest to Iron, it’s one of the strongest hidden villages, so pursuers would have trouble trying to get through our defenses.”

“And guess what happens if the village decides me and mine are too much trouble to live here anymore?” She snaps, taking a swig of her miso.

It’s gone lukewarm.

Uchiha’s turned pale, staring blankly down at his bruschetta. He slowly sits back down.

“So...” Kiba says, feeding Akamaru some pork belly. “Are you, like, some kinda lost princess or something?”

“What? No, of course not.” Ino and Sakura’s eyes take on a worrying gleam. “I said no. I’m not. No. Stop that. Stop it right now, the pair of you.”

“We’re not doing anything~” Sakura sing-songs, hands clasped against her chest.

She squints at them, lips thinning. “Lies.”

“Hey hey, Mayu-chan,” Ino says, leaning forward. “If you just happened to be a lost princess or daimyo’s daughter hiding from a usurper’s assassins, you’d totally hook your best besties in the entire world up with some hot princes, right?”

“Does Naruto even like princes?” She replies, bracing herself against Sakura’s playful assault on her shins and Ino’s tossed napkins. “Ow, ow, I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“Aw, what! I wanna meet a prince, believe it!” Naruto whines, though his playful tone sounds a little strained.

“Tough.” She sticks her tongue out at him. He blows a raspberry back in response.

“So who were your family in Iron?” Chouji asks, passing her an apple slice.

She shrugs, handing him her cookie. “Just one of the many, many samurai clans who serve the Iron daimyo. Like the Kiryuuin, the Kurogane, the Kishi, the Kageyama, the Kihote, the Kikuchi, the Kaname, the Koremune, the Kusakabe, and loads of others.”

“Do all of these clan names start with ‘K’ sounds?” Hinata asks.

“...No.” She says.

“Could you give us an example one that doesn’t?” Hinata asks.

“...The Okashi.”

“What the heck, that doesn’t count! They just slapped an ‘O’ in front of the ‘Ka’!” Kiba complains, Akamaru barking his agreement.

“You’re the last person to say anything about ‘K’ names.” Shikamaru replies.

“You’ve not got much room to talk either, Shika-kun.” Chouji ribs, nudging his friend.

From there it devolves into a debate about how many “k” sounds are in whose names, and who has the right to criticize an excess of “k’s” based off of that. So far, only Shino and Hinata are awarded that honor.

Naruto isn’t as active in the conversation as he usually is, only responding when addressed directly, staring into space when not.

Uchiha doesn’t say much at all.

Naruto goes straight to the swing-set outside the Academy once the day ends.

She follows him, watching curiously as he clambers up to stand on the swing, looking up at something behind her with a solemn expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

She goes up to the tree and sits between its roots to wait.

Lee comes out of the Academy, and come striding towards them. “Greetings Mayu-chan! Naru—”

“Ssh!” She hushes, jerking her head towards Naruto.

Lee instantly clams up, a quizzical expression on his face.

She shuffles a bit to the side and pats the ground next to her, and he plops down to sit cross-legged beside her.

“What’s Naruto doing?” He whispers to her.

“I don’t know.” She whispers back. “But he’s concentrating really hard, so I didn’t want to disturb him.”

Lee nods in understanding, then waves silently but with great enthusiasm at a girl with her hair in buns who passes them.

She seems like a nice girl, because she waves back.

They play five rounds of rock-paper-scissors, four of which Lee wins, and one of which results in a hushed debate about whether “gun” is a “youthful” option in this game, before Naruto finally speaks.

“I’m gonna be the Hokage, believe it.”

They look up at him, standing on the swing, jaw set in determination, hair swaying in the breeze that swirls a few leaves past his face.

“...Okay? Weren’t you always going to be Hokage though?” She asks, not quite seeing where he’s going with this.

“Wh—yes, but s’more than that.” Naruto says, exasperation evident in his tone.

He lets go of one of the swing’s ropes, and gazes down at his clenched fist. “I wanted to be Hokage ‘cause old Jiji’s the most respected person in the village. Everyone loves him, an’ he protects everyone, because everyone’s his precious people.”

He looks at them, eyes bright and painfully earnest. “But even though everyone in the village is precious, some’ve them’re still so mean to you, and to Otou-san and to Okaa-san, just for being from somewhere not here, f’r bein’ different, an’ that’s not fair. So I wanna be Hokage, so I can tell them not to be mean. I’m gonna be Hokage so you don’t have to bite yourself anymore, and so we can all always go home to Okaa-san and Otou-san and Gai-sensei an’ eat tortoise bread. So everyone can be happy, and understand I’ll protect everyone, no matter what, believe it. What foods we like is more important than where we’re from, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

She swallows around a lump in her throat. “Right. T-that’s exactly, exactly right.”

Lee gives a great sniff, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Your resolve is highly youthful, Naruto! I am sure you will even surpass the Yondaime when you become Hokage!!”

Naruto rubs the back of his head, grinning widely.

Then a stronger gust of wind rocks the swing and he teeters dangerously, arm windmilling as she and Lee lunge forward to catch him, try to cushion his fall somewhat.

She’s partly successful as Lee’s lunge ends up knocking Naruto off the swing entirely, the pair landing on her with a thud that drives the air from her lungs and leaves her wheezing.

“Ow.”

They end up half-limping home.

Otou-san is dozing on the couch, and he blinks awake drowsily at their chorus of “we’re home,” only to tilt his head in sleepy confusion.

“What happened to you three?” He asks, nodding towards her dust and bark covered dress as he picks a few leaves off of Naruto’s clothes, before pulling aside some of Lee’s hair to see the faint bruise where the swing swung back and clocked him in the head. “Did you all get into a fight at the Academy?”

They share a glance.

“N—” Lee starts.

“Yes.” She hastily cuts in, “Big fight. Very nasty.”

Naruto nods vigorously along with her. “Yeah, there were loads of missing nin with huge swords an’ killer laser jutsu an’ stuff.”

“That does sound scary,” Otou-san says, gently ruffling Lee’s hair with bandaged hands. “Lee, why don’t you go get an icepack from the freezer for that bruise? They’re on the top shelf.”

As Lee nods and trot off to the kitchen, her father shifts to sit more upright on the couch. “What were missing-nin doing at the Academy anyway?”

“They thought Mayu-chan was a lost princess, so they were tryna steal her for ransom.” Naruto replies, kneeling next to the couch so he can receive hair ruffles as well.

“Ah, I see.” Otou-san smiles, obliging him. “Mayu-chan, your mother is waiting in the back yard to do that.”

“Already?” She grimaces. She’d forgotten— thought she had more time...

“You don’t have to.” Otou-san urges softly. “There’s no shame in not doing it. I never did when I was your age. We could tell—”

“No.” She says firmly, fists clenched. “I-I want to do this too. Just—let me go prepare, alright?”

Her father nods slowly, his face solemn. She turns and climbs the stairs, ignoring Naruto’s worried stares or his queries about what was going on.

Sanji and Brook give her courage. Let it be over quickly, at least.

“Done.” Okaa-sama says, and she can barely contain her shudder of relief.

Her mother hands her a mirror, brushing stray bits off her shoulders. “Just as it always is, see?”

She keeps her gaze on her newly trimmed fringe and the Nico Robin cut brushing her shoulders, pretending she doesn’t see the shorn, wet slivers littering her clothes and the ground around her.

“Thank you, Okaa-san.” She smiles weakly, gratefully accepting the hug she receives and trying to ignore the pit of guilt in her stomach.

“I don’t get it.” Naruto says, sitting on the threshold of the back door. “What’s so bad about a haircut?”

“Well, for samurai, long hair is a mark of honor.” Otou-san says, hands folded into his kimono sleeves. “To have it cut off is a sign that you are no longer a samurai, which is highly dishonorable for lots of people in Iron. Mayu-chan has the spirit of a true samurai, so she hates having her hair cut.”

“Is that why you still have long hair, Jirou oji-san?” Lee asks, sipping on a cup of juice while holding a half-thawed ice pack to his head.

Otou-san tries to do an overdramatic flip of his braid, making the two boys giggle when it just ends up smacking him in the arm. “My hair is far too lustrous to be cut by the likes of sword or scissors!”

“Care to prove it, dear?” Okaa-san challenges, brandishing her scissors playfully.

Her father retreats back into the house in mock-fear. “You’re one of the lights of my life, darling! Even in the Pure Lands, my love for you will burn brighter than the sun!”

Her mother shakes her head. “And mine for you will shine brighter than the moon. Now inside, all of you, so we can begin making dinner.”

The discussion about hair continues through the preparation of hamburger steaks with sautéed greens.

Naruto and Lee are suitably amazed by the idea of women in Iron wearing their hair practically down to their ankles. Her brain just keeps conjuring up a mental image of Kumadori from CP9 in a woman’s kimono, with his long pink hair and kabuki poses.

“Doesn’t their hair get dirty, Mayu’s Okaa-san?” Naruto asks, almost dropping the patty he’s throwing between his hands.

Her mother shrugs. “I’m sure it must do— I was just as surprised as you when I saw it after I married your Otou-san and moved into the clan compound. I must confess, I never really understood the fascination for long hair that a lot of people in Iron have.”

“Do they not wear it like that in Kiri, Chie oba-san?” Lee says, depositing his chili flake-and-paprika-filled hamburger into the hissing frying pan.

“Oh, they can.” Her mother says, finally taking Naruto’s hamburger off him when he fumbles it again. “My baby cousin Mei had hair down to here.” She wiggles an elbow as she deposits the patty into the pan. “But since her hair was so thick and wavy, she found it a headache to deal with. Mayu-chan’s lucky she got her father’s fine hair, even with my color.”

“I love this color.” Otou-san declares, leaning over from stirring the spinach to plant a loud, wet kiss on Okaa-san’s cheek.

She pretends to gag as Naruto snickers, while Lee watches the display of affection with bright, shining eyes.

“Anyway.” She interrupts loudly. “Otou-san, what are we going to do for practice with the bokken? We were gonna move into fighting opponents before—”

There’s a moment of awkward silence as everyone tries to avoid thinking about what “before” signified.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that, Mayu-chan.” Her father says, smile a touch too wide and gleeful. “I’ve made arrangements so we shouldn’t be thrown off our planned course too much. You may even pick it up faster!”

She understands the reason behind his glee the next morning.

She wishes she didn’t.

“You can’t be serious.” She says to her grinning father.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He beams. “This is the perfect way for you to get used to fighting an opponent. You need to learn how to adapt what I’ve taught you to counter a variety of fighting styles, given that it’s unlikely every opponent you face will be playing by the same rules you are.”

“Yosh! Well-said, Jirou-san!” Gai-sensei cheers, far too energetic for someone who’s just made them to do thirty laps around Konoha on one leg.

He finishes warming up and takes up opening position for Strong Fist style. “Now, Mayu-chan! Your aim for today will be to land a single blow on me before I disarm you! When you succeed, we will move on to landing two consecutive blows, then three, and so on until you are able to spar against me properly. Are you ready?”

The feeling of imminent regret is an old and familiar friend by this point.

She tries to make sure her grip on the bokken is as solid as possible. “Ready.”

By the time her mother opens the back door, she’s lying on her back, panting from the effort of trying to stand, and the bokken is lodged at the top of the neighbor’s tree.

She hadn’t even landed a hit once.

Even with her father yelling “helpful” advice like “Go for the hands!” once chakra had come into play.

“You have a visitor, Mayu-chan.” Okaa-san says.

“Ah, greetings young Uchiha! How are you this most youthful morning?” Gai-sensei asks cheerily, like he isn’t half-way to scaling the garden fence to get her weapon back for her.

She turns her head to the side, just in time to catch sight of Uchiha staring at the green-spandex-clad wonder that is Gai-sensei in silent stupefaction.

She wishes she had a camera so she could capture his expression.

Uchiha shakes his head, as though to disperse the shock of acknowledging Gai-sensei’s existence, then looks around until he sees her on the ground.

“What are you doing?” He asks, brows drawn down like he’s personally offended by her presence.

“Dying.” She tells him flatly. “Lee gets Habu-san, and Naruto gets all my cookbooks. He’ll eat way too much ramen otherwise.”

Uchiha glances between where Gai-sensei is making a lot of rustling noises and at her, considering. “Can I have the sword?”

She snorts. “Like shit, that’s Sakura’s. You get the all purpose flour.”

Her father sighs and kneels down to offer her an arm up. “Language, young lady. You did very well today.”

Her legs wobble under her and it’s a fight not to collapse right back down.

Gai-sensei leaps from the tree with a yell, rolling and neatly popping up in front of them with a thumbs up. “Yes! Once you stop freezing up in the face of jutsu, you’ll land a blow on me for sure, Mayu-chan!”

Uchiha shoots her a look that is extremely judgmental. “You couldn’t even land one hit?”

“Shut up Uchiha.” She says, taking the bokken back from Gai-sensei with a tired nod. “Why are you here, anyway? Is there a problem with cooking today?”

“We’re not doing that.” Uchiha drops his voice a few octaves. “I’m giving you the opportunity to prove your fighting spirit. You versus me. No politics, no cowardice. No holding back.”

The wind picks up, a cold draft that swirls leaves between them.

“Do you want me to die? No.” She says, leaning on the bokken. “I’ve spent all morning getting my a—”Her mother clears her throat pointedly. “—My butt kicked. I need a rest. And food.”

“Wh—I’ll give you food!” Uchiha blusters. “A-and it’s not just you! I’m fighting everyone!! You can rest while I fight Lee or Shino or something!”

“SUCH YOUTHFUL SPIRIT!!” Gai-sensei bellows, throwing an arm over Uchiha’s shoulders. “You truly are a paragon of your clan’s sense of camaraderie, young Sasuke! I would be honored if you would allow me to witness your battle with Lee!!”

“Young Sasuke” cringes away from the spandex’d arm. “No. No adults allowed. They’ll just hold us back.”

Gai-sensei wilts.

“Mayu can take some pictures of the fight for us!” Okaa-san adds quickly. “She’ll be happy to do it, won’t you Mayu?”

Gai-sensei immediately perks back up. “What a youthful idea, Chie-san!! Mayu-chan, be sure to capture these expressions of Youth as best you can! We’re counting on you!”

He shoots her a vigorous thumbs-up as her mother goes pink and swoons.

“Ah, I think our camera’s in a drawer over here—” Otou-san darts into the house, muttering under his breath about where he last saw it.

She stares blearily up at them. “Can I have a shower and some breakfast first?”

By the time she comes back down from her shower, the atmosphere feels very...awkward.

Lee’s arrived, and has been armed with their family camera on a thick cord around his neck. It’s what she’d consider an old one, big and bulky, that prints out its photos from a little slit on the bottom.

He waves to her, his mouth full of rice. She gives him a little wave back.

Uchiha is sitting stiffly in Naruto’s chair, staring down at an untouched plate of tamagoyaki like it’ll hold all the answers to the universe.

Okaa-san is washing dishes, back tense. She hands her a plate without a word.

Otou-san’s mouth is drawn, bandaged hand curled into a loose fist. He doesn’t even seem to notice Gai-sensei’s hand on his arm.

Gai-sensei smiles at her, but it’s strained. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost say it was worried.

She wants to ask what happened in a cool, sneaky way that wouldn’t make the situation get worse, like Robin or Nami or Sanji or Brook can. But she’s not smart enough for that.

So she shovels egg and rice into her mouth, trying to eat as quickly as possible.

She wishes Naruto was here. It’s not fair the Hokage gets him for practically the whole two days on these weekends.

She kicks Uchiha’s ankle under the table. When he yelps and glares at her, she nods towards his plate and mouths “EAT”.

He scowls at her, but finally takes a bite, chewing aggressively.

They clear their plates in silence.

“I guess we’re heading out.” She says, after putting their dirty dishes in the sink. Uchiha just grunts and heads straight for the door.

Even Zoro has better manners than that kid.

“See you later Gai-sensei, Jirou-oji-san, Chie-oba-san!” Lee yells, holding the camera tightly. “Mayu-chan and I will fight with all of our youthful spirit today!”

“Lee!” Gai-sensei cries, tears streaming down his face. “You’ve worked so hard in training...I know all your youthful efforts will allow your strength to blossom!!”

“Gai-sensei!” Lee yells back, beginning to cry himself.

“Lee!”

“Gai-sensei!”

She chuckles despite herself. “I’ll make sure to get a lot of good pictures, Okaa-san, Otou-san.”

Her mother catches her face in a soapy hand, thumb stroking over her cheek. Her eyes are impossibly sad, for some reason.

“We love you, Mayu.” She says. “You know that, right?

She smiles. “Of course I know. I love you too. Even more than Luffy loves meat.”

The worry on Okaa-san’s face melts into fondness. She leans forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, then steps aside so Otou-san can wipe the soap off her cheek with a tea-towel and plant a noisy kiss there instead.

Uchiha makes an impatient noise in the hallway, so she and Lee shout their goodbyes as they follow him out of the door.

Lee really likes the camera.

It took him a little bit to work out the settings to keep the photograph from being under or overexposed, but now he’s merrily snapping away at anything that captures his attention.

Which, so far, has included a bunch of pink flowers, a dog, a bird in its nest, a couple of ninja outside a weapon shop, an old lady in a pretty kimono who called him “a very nice boy”, and three babies in matching ninja-themed prams.

“Can you stop that and get a move on?!” Uchiha snaps. “There won’t be any film left at this rate.”

“Ah! Not to worry, Uchiha-kun!” Lee digs around and pulls out three black capsules of the stuff from...somewhere. “Jirou-oji-san was nice enough to insist I take extra!”

Uchiha groans and slaps his hands over his face as Lee catches sight of a curry restaurant and snaps a shot of its sign.

“Aw, lighten up Uchiha. Let him have his fun.” She ribs gently. “Where’s the harm?”

He stops in the street. When she looks back at him, he’s trembling slightly, fists clenched.

“Fun doesn’t make you stronger.” He sneers, “It’s a weakness that sets you up to be killed.”

He strides forward and body-checks her out of the way, stomping off down the road.

She stares after him, more than a little disquieted, scratching at her scar before following.

She stops and stares.

Along the top of the Uchiha compound there are katana, naginata, sai, spears, daggers, arrows, knives, staffs with kunai tied to the top, even what looks like a fishing pole.

All of them have been bound to the top of the exterior wall by copious amounts of black wire and tape, rusting or ornamental blades jabbing at the sky like a hedgehog’s spines.

Lee lifts the camera and snaps a picture.

The rest of their lunchtime group is standing near the entrance to the compound, also gaping at the wall’s spiky additions.

“Ah, Sasuke-kun!” Sakura says. “Um, what’s all this?”

Uchiha scoffs. “I know you’re a civilian, but even you can recognize traps, can’t you?”

“Aren’t traps supposed to be hidden?” Kiba mutters, Akamaru whining on top of his head.

Uchiha pushes open the door, pausing to unhook what looks like several tripwires and other mechanisms. “Even that man wouldn’t be able to get past all of this. He wouldn’t even dare chance it!”

They all begin trooping inside, only for Uchiha to quickly turn and say, “Step exactly where I step if you don’t want to die.”

There’s a veritable web of tripwires crossing the path through the compound, spidering haphazardly up trees and the sides of buildings. Several of the abandoned stores have been rigged with what looks like the sharp things Uchiha couldn’t mount on the wall, alongside what she thinks she recognizes as rudimentary explosives.

Usopp preserve us, she thinks as they gingerly pick their way through the tangle after the last Uchiha, who may have gone off the deep end while they weren’t looking.

Shikamaru mutters “Troublesome,” like an oath.

[choupichoups]

✎ Coup d’État 

“You seen the new kid yet?”

“Gangster pants, black hoodie?”

“Yeah, how much you wanna bet he’s another Ares punk?”

“Ugh, no, as if we need any more of those.” 

“Oooh, maybe Hades? He’s got the style for it.” 

“What, like he just rolled out of the dumpster?”

Or: A PJO au snippet where Eliott, son of Apollo, meets his trash baby panda of a soulmate— until he’s not (a trash panda, that is, he’s still his soulmate)

@salutmonmec

✶

It’s so fucking hot.

“You seen the new kid yet?”

He’s going to burn if he stays a second longer under the sun. 

“Gangster pants, black hoodie?”

Hoodie? Who wears a hoodie in this weather? God, what’s the point of his father being the literal god of the sun if he’s still affected by this hellish heat? His dad’s a real jackass for not giving them immunity. 

“Yeah, how much you wanna bet he’s another Ares punk?”

“Ugh, no, as if we need any more of those.” 

Eliott splashes sadly, the lake water barely reaches his chest even when sitting down so he has to awkwardly hunch over in order to submerge his entire body into cooling off. 

“Oooh, maybe Hades? He’s got the style for it.” 

“What, like he just rolled out of the dumpster?”

A chorus of laughter. Someone snorts like a pig.

“Hey, Eliott, what do you think?”

Eliott looks up, blinking sleepily up at his half brothers. “I dunno.”

“Thank you for your input, enlightening as always.”

He flips them off, sighing as he drops his chin down and makes bubbles into the water. 

“Let’s get out of here before we start looking like raisins.”

“You already look like a raisin, Chad.”

“Fuck off, Hunter, at least my skin has room to breath. You’re one protruding vein away from being a walking block of ham.” 

“Hey!” 

The guys start dragging their dripping bodies out of the lake but Eliott lags behind, unwilling to part with his newfound home. Yes, he thinks he’ll stay here for the rest of the summer. 

“Eliott, come on bro, we don’t wanna miss the bonfire!” Hunter is the last to wade out the water apart from Eliott, turning around with wide, expectant eyes. 

“Right, don’t want them longing for your wonderful voice too much,” Eliott says blandly. 

“Damn right!” Hunter pushes dark blond strands off of his face, bending down to retrieve the clothes he’d discarded by the rocks. Evidently, the guy miscalculates as his back collides with a protruding boulder and it sends him bouncing back into the water like an inflatable mascot.

Eliott laughs so hard he tips over and accidentally dunks his own head underwater. When he resurfaces, everything is a hell of a lot blurrier than it had originally been. 

Great, his contacts got washed away again. Fucking Hunter.  

“Are you two done being morons yet or do you need more time?” Chad calls out from behind a tree, already dressed in his damp shirt and basketball shorts. 

Hunter grumbles all through slotting his legs back into his own shorts, shirt nowhere to be seen. Eliott could have sworn all of them had shirts on before hitting up the lake earlier. 

Begrudgingly, he crawls back on land, figuring he’s already left the medic bay long enough for at least one camper to probably pass out from loss of blood. From a papercut. Demigod children can get quite dramatic in the face of pain. 

He takes his time getting dressed, not minding at all when the voices of his brothers get too far from him to hear. They’re headed a different direction from him anyway and Eliott is very much not ready to leave the breezy comfort under the shade of these trees as of yet. 

There’s a rustling from the nearby bushes, followed by what sounds like the rushed footsteps of about four or five people. Eliott sticks his head out curiously, squinting to aid his vision. 

A group of Ares campers are charging towards a lone figure, led by Nathan, a particularly nasty addition to the Ares cabin. Eliott can’t clearly identify the dark blob they’re targeting from this distance but he’s guessing it’s the new kid. Fits the bill— loose dark clothing despite the heat, face obscured by the low fabric of his hood. 

Eliott moves to approach just as they have the boy surrounded. He looks tiny compared to them and Eliott can’t help it— it’s in his nature to care. He knows it’s nothing too bad, he’s all too familiar with the Ares cabin’s toilet dunking initiation rules. Many brave souls have tried to upend this ritual but to no avail. But maybe if Eliott makes his presence known, they’d let the boy off the hook for the meantime. 

Though before he could take another step, something peculiar happens.

There’s no real explanation for it— the shift in the atmosphere is subtle, but the air seems thicker somehow, smelling of something sweet. So sweet Eliott’s almost tempted to move closer, dive into it and drench himself in its presence. 

And... everything looks pink? What?

He quickly shakes his head, physically flailing his arms around as if to swat the feeling away. When he looks up, the new guy’s back is to Eliott, facing the Ares kids now with his hood down. There’d be nothing too shocking in this picture if it weren’t for the fact that Nathan and his lackeys are completely immobile. Eliott can’t quite make out the exact expression on their faces but from what his blurry vision allows, it’s pretty easy to spot them all slack-jawed, maybe even dazed.

The boy replaces the hood over his head and walks away, untouched. 

What the hell just happened there?

✶

✶

The other campers start gathering around the campfire almost immediately after he gets back to the medic bay, his half siblings being the first ones present, taking turns on the guitar and belting out songs to their hearts’ content. Although Eliott has always been too shy to sing so publicly, he’d normally be out there listening and laughing along with them. 

But he’s honestly feeling so gross right now. It’s probably the worst summer day of this cycle so far— he’d spilled coffee on himself shortly after his little dip in the lake, ruining the fresh shirt he’d put on right off the bat. The stain is a glaring map over the center of his chest and the many, many kids (an atrocious amount, considering there’s been less than an hour between the time at the lake and the campfire) that got sent to the medic bay in danger of a fucking heatstroke didn’t let him forget about its existence. 

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Eliott sighs, wondering if he should even bother to change or at least try to wash out the stain. On one hand, it’s late in the day and they should all be headed to sleep soon anyway while on the other hand, Eliott just wants to feel like a decent human being before hitting up the bonfire. 

The decision is made from him when a commotion starts up, the air ringing with anticipation and a few gasps from the younger kids resonating above the shocked silence from the rest. 

Eliott stumbles out, cold coffee in hand and medic coat thrown haphazardly over his dirty shirt— not that it helps any, as the thing’s unbuttoned and still showing off his spectacular stain. He stands beside Tristan and Hunter, eyes following the human shaped pink glow from across the campfire. 

But the fire rises in tandem with the campers’ heightened excitement, a golden barrier between Eliott and the occurring spectacle. Slowly, he steps to the side, long legs carrying him forward to where he can see clearly. 

And what a dizzying view it is. 

In front of him stands the new kid, except not really. The boy is surrounded by a pale pink light, and gone is the hideous hoodie and baggy pants combo— he’s dressed in a white shirt, soft and loose, showing off more collarbone than the boy is obviously comfortable with, considering how he crosses his arms over his shoulders with an audible squeak. His pants look equally soft, but fitted, dark fabric displaying a pair of legs that a part of Eliott’s brain can’t seem to stop observing. For science purposes. His skin is lightly tanned, looking like the smoothest cut of marble one might ever have the privilege of running a hand over. Eliott admits that he’d go to great lengths to prove that theory right. 

The boy takes a small step back, appearing one breath away from bolting. Eliott feels the stress rolling off of him in waves. 

Eliott must’ve twitched, breathed too loud, done something, because the boy’s eyes, wide and slightly panicked, flicker straight to him, meeting Eliott’s surely idiotic expression with a flutter of unfairly long lashes. Fuck, that pink glow is yet to fade away. He looks like an angel, it’s downright devastating. His hair’s been pushed back from his face, like a hand had brushed through it to make the most beautiful mess. Eliott’s eyes are free to wander, following the sharp cut of cheekbones down to a perfectly angled nose. He reaches dangerous territory at the sight of a pale rose lip bitten and trapped under the boy’s front teeth.

His eyes snap back up and their gazes lock, Eliott’s glasses slipping down his nose a minor occurrence that he pays no attention to. Not when he’s busy immersing himself in those eyes— a glittering pool indescribable. Eliott is a prodigy of the arts, one of the few things Apollo has done right by his children, but he feels the need to create a whole new spectrum of colour to justly describe the hue of this boy’s eyes alone. And isn’t that some food for thought. 

“Wow,” he blurts out, unable to withstand the utter beauty being presented right before him and the consequent poetry his mind is spewing all over the place.

Except he says it a little too loud and now the attention’s all on him. 

He sputters, shocked into movement like an old engine stuttering back to life. Unfortunately, he forgets about the cup of coffee he’s been holding onto so his halted flailing sends more coffee dripping down the front of his shirt, creating a new stain to keep the first one company. 

“Ah!” The cold shock of it sends him stumbling backwards and his own two feet tangle in his rush to save himself from accidentally falling into the fucking campfire. He’s thrown sideways by the force of his misbalance and he goes diving onto the ashy pile of dirt beside the fire, landing in front of his siblings’ gleeful faces. 

“Nice one, Beli.” Chad snickers, large hand coming down to pat at Eliott’s hair.

He doesn’t have the energy to protest the nickname. Instead, he pours out the rest of the coffee from his paper cup and chucks it at Chad’s head. It hits him right on the forehead, Apollo’s godly aim blessing Eliott for once in his life. 

When Eliott looks back over, a pretty flush of red has settled high atop the boy’s cheeks, spreading over his nose in an adorable show of embarrassment. Some of the others let out an infatuated sigh at the sight of it, and Eliott would’ve too, probably, if he didn’t feel like he’s gotten hit by a freight train once and then backed over twice for good measure. 

Jenna, counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, jumps up from her position on the ground and takes the new kid into her arms. “Finally!” she screeches, ruffling his hair roughly. The other Aphrodite girls happily join in to form a big group hug. They look like an overexcited party of unfairly beautiful nymphs. “Welcome home, brother!” 

✶

✶

Much later that night, Eliott ventures back out of the cabin— Hunter and Chad haven’t stopped yakking about the amount of protein intake they need to balance out their carbs while still maintaining an acceptable sugar level and Eliott really isn’t in the mood to join in on the conversation. The temperature’s much cooler now that the sun’s fully gone, enough that he has to change into a long sleeved shirt to keep the chill off of his skin. 

He hasn’t walked very far when he spots a figure curled up atop a tree stump, gazing up at the stars with a hopeless sorrow that tugs immediately at Eliott’s heartstrings. Being an empath is both a blessing and a curse. Over time, Eliott’s learned to temper the part of him that latches onto another’s emotions. He’s tuned it out well enough for him to ignore the impulse most of the time. 

But this boy radiates loneliness like a bird shot and abandoned, helpless yet surrendered to its fate. 

“Hi.”

He tenses at the sound of Eliott’s voice so Eliott makes sure to approach slowly, waiting until the boy is fully turned towards him, watching his every move, before he takes a seat on the neighbouring stump off the new kid’s left side. 

The boy nods but doesn’t say anything before tipping his head back up, eyes on the night sky. 

“It’s a pretty nice spot, huh? We can see the stars clearly from here,” Eliott says, tilting his head until all he can see are the speckles of stars against the black backdrop. “I’m Eliott.” 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees the boy fiddle with the ends of his sweatshirt— seems like he’s found another hoodie to hide under. “Lucas.” 

Eliott turns his head, the speed of which it happens is almost outside of his control. It’s a strange feeling, being affected by the sound of a voice. Lucas breathes out the name soft and lilting and he’s sure Lucas doesn’t mean to do it, but the way he speaks is unerringly attractive.

Oh. Eliott whips his head back up to the sky, not wanting to make Lucas uncomfortable. That must be why he’s so damn quiet all the time. 

They sit in silence for a while, Eliott privately steeling himself for the next sound coming from Lucas, who’s still curled up in his seat, legs folded in half and arms surrounding them tight. 

Under the faint touch of campfire, he glows— a supernova crafted by Aphrodite herself. Eliott isn’t sure whether it’s the effect of the goddess’ blessing at work or if Lucas, unhindered by the weight of prying eyes, simply carries the moonlight under his skin. 

“Do you see your favourite?” He tries again, hoping to get a lengthier response this time. The only way to get used to the allure of Lucas’ voice is to hear it over and over after all. 

“Favourite?” Lucas speaks faster this time, although still a little wary. 

“The constellations.” Eliott points up at the sky above them, tracing Lyra with the point of his finger. “They’re everywhere.” 

Lucas mumbles an answer but Eliott fails to catch it. His listening skill is one Eliott takes pride in but Lucas talks inhumanly low even for someone as attentive as Eliott. Lucas clears his throat when Eliott gives him a blank look. “I don’t know. I don’t have a favourite.”

A whooping two sentences. Eliott feels a sort of warmth come over him at the sound of it but it’s nothing he can’t handle. The thought brings a grin to his face and Eliott soon feels himself relax, humming as they continue to stare upward. 

“Mine is Pegasus.”

“Really?” 

The voluntary response only furthers his giddiness. “Yup, it’s cute.” 

“…cute.” 

“Adorable! See, look.” Eliott hops up and crouches beside Lucas’ tree stump so that they’re viewing the sky from the same angle. “Follow my hand, see it over there?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t guess, it’s right there!”

“Okay.”

“You see now?”

“I guess.”

“Come on, Lucas.” 

Gazing up at Lucas is quite the revelation. Lucas has to look down to where Eliott’s crouched down and from Eliott’s angle, his eyelashes are stupidly long. Or, well, not stupidly— rather beautifully, insanely, captivatingly. The blue in Lucas’ eyes are lit up with mirth and his lips, full and red and pursed, are quirked up in the corners with the smallest hint of a smile. 

At the risk of sounding like a bad romance heroine, Eliott is instantly breathless. 

“Eliott?”

His name coming from that voice quite literally knocks him on his ass. Eliott loses his balance and tumbles backwards, plopping into a seated position over dry grass instead of the careful crouch he’d opted for at the start. 

“Yeah, yes, Pegasus, the cute bastard,” he rambles, barely saving the moment. “The constellation reminds me of a kid tryina draw a horse.” 

Lucas is frowning up at the sky now and Eliott can practically hear the gears in his head turning. “That’s not cute, that’s ugly.” 

“Jesus, you’re gonna make a child cry someday.” 

He sees Lucas duck into the space between his chest and folded arms. Curiosity has Eliott subtly peeking forward and while Lucas’ smile is hidden behind his own arms, the curve of his eyes give him away— Eliott, emitting a surprised laugh at successfully making Lucas smile, wonders what he has to do to uncover that sight. 

“Cassiopeia,” Lucas says only seconds into the next bout of silence. 

“Hm?”

“It’s my favourite.” 

“Oh.” His name is Lucas and he likes Cassiopeia. Eliott thinks that’s a pretty good start. “Cool.”

[yourstateofdreaming]

The Favor [Gwilym Lee x Reader] Part IV

Masterlist | Gwilym Lee Masterlist

<<Previous | >>Next Part

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, also again: daddy-daughter relationship (SORRYNOTSORRY)

A/N: so... I have a chapter that kinda goes before this...it was meant to be part three but I found it too long and containing no Gwil, I’ll post that later so you can read more if you’d like and get a better understand of the story. Enjoy!

She picked up Roger’s clothes from the dry cleaner, got his vitamins from the pharmacy, picked up a package from his P.O. Box and then stopped at his favorite coffee place before arriving at the Taylors’ home a quarter to 12.

“Morning!” She called out from the entrance with her hands full.

The usual odd chorus of voices let her know that Tigs and Lola were here, Sarina in the studio and Roger upstairs.

A regular Wednesday for the Taylors.

The two blondes ran out from the kitchen to say hello, staring at (Name) with expectations of something showing in their gleaming eyes.

“Hi, what’s up?” She gave a puzzled smile.

“We heard a rumor from Dad,” Lola teased without hesitation.

Tigs giggled.

“We heard somebody from dad’s movie might be into you?” Lola hinted. “What’s with this Will guy?”

All blood rushed to her feet. She cleared her throat and started going to the kitchen.

“Gwilym.” (Name) corrected her. “He’s,” she did not look back or over her shoulder, “a friend!”

She felt embarrassed. If they knew...if only they knew what had happened just the night before. She reprimanded herself in silence, she should have not done it, but she gave in. Who could deny it? The two had chemistry, they knew each other and it was about time... if only it wasn’t such an inappropriate relationship. Why did she let him stay last night?

“(Name)?” Roger greeted her with a peck on the cheek and an empty cup of what must have been tea in his hand.

“Hi!”

She could not help but come off as super excited.

“So, busy day, Rog! Busy, busy day! Have you got your shoes on? Let’s go!” She clapped at Roger and waved at his daughters. “Sorry, girls! Come on, Rog! Car’s waiting outside!”

“Kitten...” Roger followed, although complaining felt like the natural response to (Name)’s behavior, “later, girls!”

While (Name) sat with Roger in the back of the car, he kept staring at her. Roger was trying to figure her out, there was something about her this morning that gave him an odd vibe. It wasn’t until she shifted in her seat and looked to the side that he thought of it.

“Kitten, do you have a boyfriend?”

(Name)’s brows skyrocketed up her forehead, or so it felt like. She smirked at her boss, smart-assing the man without a gram of shame.

“Why? Are you trying to hook up with me now, Rog?”

The drummer laughed, throwing his head back for a second.

Roger would never try such a thing, she was Tigs’ age and even if she was a bit older, the way she got along with everyone in the Taylor family made her almost a family member too; Roger knowing her dad and that (Name) was an only child, he felt somewhat like a father to her half the time.

“Well, do you?” Roger insisted.

(Name) shrugged, she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

“Not really.” She watched Roger’s brow furrowed. “No,” she insisted. “Maybe.”

Roger did not need to say anything, (Name) gave in and told him about some guy. She liked him but she said that because of their jobs it would be too difficult to be together, as a side note she did find other guys attractive.

“So, it’s not set on stone, kitten. Take your chances!” Roger advised her, patting her knee. “And cover up the neck, dear.”

(Name)’s hand flew to her neck and she used her phone to see. A love mark showing just above the collar of her shirt. The man sitting on the opposite side of the car smirked as she fidgeted with a scarf in her handbag.

“Shit...” she mumbled.

The drummer laughed at her and seeing as the car was moving through the streets a bit faster than usual, he chose to talk to his young assistant about a certain invitation his manager received earlier that morning. 

Peter (Y/L/Name) was a well-known wildlife photographer, his successes in art brought him to South Africa, where he worked with Save The Elephants and other organizations. (Name)’s father was a real animals’ rights activist, his job teaching about the world around us; it was odd to see him with his daughter, who he loved but with whom he would only spend time on rare occasions ever since she started uni. In fact, Roger could recall seeing his young assistant with her father only once, while at an event much like the one he had been invited to. 

Brian was pressuring Roger to RSVP, he was fascinated with Peter’s work, he and Anita had already confirmed their assistance to P. (Y/L/Name)’s exhibition. 

“Are you going?” 

She looked up from the agenda, the day of the exhibition was one of her rare days off, but she would not mind seeing Roger, which she still sort of planned on doing. 

“Do I have time?” 

Roger leaned over her shoulder and read the bright orange note saying “Fend for Yourself Day - Kitten’s Day Off’”. He put his index finger up in the air. 

“Ah! I guess I’m seeing you there!” He winked. 

She nodded and scribbled something down on a different page, mentioning to Roger that she would arrange for a car to pick them up at a decent time so he could be fashionably late to the event, just enough to be classy and not as much to make Brian anxious. 

“Hey, Rog?” She wondered when they arrived at the label’s building. 

The older man walked out of the vehicle with his sunglasses in his hands and put them on as soon as he heard her, mumbling a “yeah”. 

“How come you always call me Kitten?” She giggled as she finished her question. 

It was pure curiosity, (Name) never had a nickname before. Her father would always call her by her name or say “child”, so she was not used to the affectionate sound of “Kitten” when Roger first started using it a while after she started working for him. 

“Well, you see...” Roger put an arm around her shoulders and they walked together as the car drove away to the parking lot. “I realized you are not quite as tall as my Tigs, so what’s smaller than a Tiger?” He brought his hand out, waving it in the air as he spoke. 

(Name) shrugged, arched brow and pout on her mouth. 

“I dunno,” she straight up said the first thing that came to her mind, “a cub?”

Roger stopped walking and the silence grew between them for a second before he shook his head and repeated the word “no” over and over, almost chanting it. 

“A Kitten, (Name)! A Kitten! Has a better ring to it too!” 

They waited for the lift and once the shining silver doors opened, (Name) walked in first, followed by Roger. 

“You really are your father’s daughter...” He commented. 

Having spoken to the man a few times before, he knew where her previous comment was coming from. 

For days, (Name) tagged along with Roger, she never got to sit inside the offices where the Rock Idol had his meetings with producers and important people, she would only be outside, at the ready with a notebook and a pen; agenda in the pocket. She knew how to do her job, she did it quite well and had received no complaints from Roger or his family ever. 

It was indeed, during her last day shooting for the movie that she had the chance of chatting with Gwil. He had asked, of course, he was curious about the assistant; it seemed Roger could get along just fine without her but she also made everything move faster, with more efficiency, and for sure by more modern means. 

“Oh, I graduated from business school a bit early. Dad was in South Africa, I needed a job and thought, why not start at the bottom?” She explained, “I didn’t think I would be Roger Taylor’s assistant, that sort of happened thanks to my dad’s manager.”

Gwilym’s expression, now that he was in his Brian costume, was soft as usual, although upon hearing her his brows shot up in the funniest of manners and left (Name) giggling like a school girl. It might have been the beautiful contrast of the dark wig and Gwilym’s blue eyes, she felt weak in the knees. 

“Your dad’s manager?” He wondered, his hands on his hips, the pants provided by the costume department flattering his long legs.

She made the mental note that Gwil was slightly thicker than Brian, but she was not quite sure and thought asking about it would only serve to fuel the rumor going by among the crew that there was something romantic going on between the two of them.  

(Name) blushed, she never bragged about it, her last name would oddly come up in conversation and even if it did, it never caught much attention - unless she was speaking to a wildlife enthusiast or an animals’ rights activist. 

“Uh,” she felt her voice going quieter as she moved her lips to form the words, “yeah, Peter (Y/L/Name)” 

It was not shame what overtook her. She loved her father; he had fought to give her everything she had, and he had struggled to build his own career from scratch - not an easy thing, especially since he raised her on his own. What (Name) felt was embarrassment. Now she was under the impression that she should have mentioned it sooner.

“Oh, he’s having an exhibition next month! Right?” Gwil reaction was the usual, a small smile appearing on his face when she nodded. 

He pulled her sparkling black jacket closed over her chest once the cast was called in to get another take. 

“Well, darling Fake Wife of mine...” he called and (Name) rolled her eyes at the lame joke the two had, “on with the show!” 

(Name) made a terrible attempt at playing the air guitar, earning a laugh from Gwil, who stood the closest to see and embarrassingly enough, a cheer and chuckle from Brian and Anita. 

“Take off the wig, Gwil, you’re being replaced!” Joe yelled from another part of the set at what was going to be Freddie’s crazy house party. 

“Oh, shut it you!” She yelled back, grabbing Gwil’s face with as much delicacy as possible to avoid ruining whatever makeup he had on, Gwilym had to lean down so she could play with his face, “this is the face of a man! A man whose parents have some explaining to do!” She turned to Gwil, “are you sure Brian’s not your dad? You look so much like him...I’m doubting this.” 

At (Name)’s pout, Gwil smiled. He shook his head as he pulled back and put his arm around her shoulders to go back to their marks. 

For the entire time they were there, Anita was hypnotized by Gwilym, she took pictures with him and gave him the sweetest compliments, at which the actor could only blush and look around for help. Brian’s wife also told him funny stories about a younger version of her husband; all the while Ben, Joe and (Name) kept trying to stay out of trouble but somehow still causing it, of course. Rami was the only one of the group who kept it quite professional, he was the leading man and nobody would hold it against him if he was in character more than he was himself. 

“Hey,” Anita, grabbed (Name)’s hand and held it absentmindedly while she spoke, oblivious to what she was about to do, “Brian has been teaching Gwil how to use his camera, why don’t you bring him to your father’s exhibition?”

The small woman looked up at (Name) and then at Gwil. She did not know what to say; she had already made plans to bring someone else...someone she had been seeing for some time. Gwilym noticed something was happening in her mind and opened his mouth to excuse himself only to be interrupted by the brunette. 

“I think my dad would love to teach you a thing or two as well.” 

“It’s a date!” Ben yelled. 

The blonde gave Gwil a pat on the back and exchanged a look with Joe and Rami, all three of them grinned. 

Next One  >>

Tags: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @naturalswifty89 @itsametaphorbriansblog @i-want-to-break-free-39 @stomp-stomp-clap

[grimelords]

I just realised I wrote up my June playlist and forgot to post it at all, which benefits no one. July coming soon, but for now please enjoy three hours of two month old thoughts on the new Kanye, the Red Dead Redemption soundtrack and two songs about drinking beer.

Ghost Town - Kanye West: Now that the dust has settled around Kanye's month of chaos I can safely say Ye is great and Ghost Town is the best song on it, though it's not a coincidence that the best song is the one where Kanye says the least.

DLZ - TV On The Radio: I've been obsessed with this song for a long time. The combination of the absolutely hypnotising drums and very good cryptic lyrics about impending doom is exactly my shit. Also the whistling right at the very end is a perfect moment.

Hyph Mngo - Joy Orbison: Someone had a thing on twitter the other day that was like 'quote tweet this with a phrase you remember that if you told a younger person they wouldn't understand' and someone said Hyph Mngo and I felt age 100. This song really was such a game changer and that whole wave of stuff like this, Koreless and Jame Blake's EP's around then was such an incredible time to be alive. I am aging decades by the second and will not be around much longer.

The Shootist - Bill Elm & Woody Jackson: I've been thinking about game soundtracks a lot the past month or so for some reason and Red Dead really is an all timer. They did such a great job capturing the whole feeling without it just being a straight Morricone rip-off (though obviously it is mostly a Morricone ripoff).

Touch Me - Wish & Fonda Rae: This song is so fucking good to begin with but then it gets really really good in the middle part and where they just start going hogwild with the sampler on her vocals, and then again at the end when it starts sounding like a Battles song.

In The Vespers - Colin Stetson & Sarah Neufeld: Ever since I finished MGSV again I've been thinking about open-world stealth as a genre and how I'd do it, and this song is really the perfect kind of soundtrack to the game I'm thinking of. It's already got four alert levels built in, all the way from Tense to FUCk and back down to Calming Down But Still Scared.

Human After All - Daft Punk: Human After All is still a beguiling album in sound and vision after all this time. The amount of noise emananating from every single element in this song, and songs like Technologic is just so strange compared to everything they'd done before and since, but I think that's what I like about it. It sounds like it was made in 1979 when electronics were a novelty and everyone accepted that they'd be noisy as hell. Also I had an emotional moment this month while I was driving and listening to this song and reflecting on how we are all, human.. after all.. so who knows what's up with me.

Disparate Youth - Santigold: The production on this song is insane. The drums, the guitar, the bouncing piano, it just has so much momentum the whole way through and holy shit I just realised that the video I was talking about last month that referenced The Holy Mountain that I couldn't remember is L.E.S. Artistes by Santigold what an incredible two for one.

Violence - Parquet Courts: This song has the potential to be embarrassing but it's saved from itself by the specificity of the lyrics and the backing vocals that sound like a smiling swing band saying 'violence is daily life!'.

Jane Says - Jane's Addiction: The steel drum as the central melody line in this is such a strange and beautiful choice and also this song has two chords and no chorus. There are truly one million ways to make a good song.

Heatstroke - Calvin Harris feat. Young Thug, Pharrell Williams, Ariana Grande: I really can't believe I missed this song that came out like a year ago, so thank god my girlfriend told me about it. It's incredible. Everyone is operating at full capacity in this song and the structure is so good, the Pharrell/Thug pre-chorus could be a chorus on its own but then Ariana and Pharrell trade lines foe the actual chorus, amazing. Also when Thugger says 'she got every read bottom like a baboon’ the way the backup says '..baboon' slightly apprehensively cracks me up.

Maximum Black - Bohren & Der Club Of Gore: More Bohren, carrying over from last month. This is one of my favourites of theirs, mostly just for the choir sound and the all-time great sax intro at about 4:30. When you start at absolute zero, dialling it up to a 1 sounds like bomb going off.

Dust Bunnies - Kurt Vile: This is like most Kurt Vile songs in that it's sort of just about hanging out and feeling kind of funny, which is a mindset I really relate to.

Here For The Beer - The Sloppy Boys: A bunch of guys from The Birthday Boys have a band now and it's really great. Comedy music is hard but this album is the best kind where it's just dumb ass rock and roll story songs and odes to partying. The way he says 'autographed baseball' makes me laugh every time.

Beer Pressure - Municipal Waste: Anyway that song reminded me of this song, which is almost the exact same song with a slightly different mindset.

Credulous! Credulous! - BATS: There's really something to listening to a song for ten years and then having it suddenly dawn on you one day that it's about an epilleptic 16 year old in the distant past getting treppaned by a mystic and a team of scientists in the present figuring out what happened.

Please Take Your Hand Away - Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross: Everyone's (me) always talking about how good The Social Network soundtrack is but nobody's ever talking about how they did a sequel that's just as good and goes for longer than the actual film when they released the nearly 3 hour Girl With The Dragon Tattoo soundtrack a year later. What an achievement!

What Does Your Soul Look Like Part 2 - DJ Shadow: This song is really on a whole nother level. It is really a kind of magic that you can get a 15 minute song out of a two note bassline and a drum loop, but when they're this good it looks easy. The drums especially are just absolutely hypnotising.

One Of One - Kamasi Washington: Kamasi somehow outdid himself on this one my god. The groove in this is just amazing, and the way it twists and turns into something darker and darker before the sun shines through and the hook comes back is incredible. The way the theme comes back all twisted up with strings near the end. Great stuff.

My Exit, Unfair - mewithoutYou: I honestly very nearly got converted in high school just because I was listening to so much mewithoutYou, and it still informs a lot of my religious thoughts. A running theme through a lot of their songs is wrestling with and trying to accept the idea that God has a plan for you that you definitely don't understand and getting extremely upset about it and that's about where I'm at.

Stand - R.E.M.: Apparently this was the theme to a show called Get A Life and it's funny because it really does sound perfect for a 90s tv theme. It sounds like it's two and a half minutes too long. Release the 30 second TV theme version REM.

BFG Division - Mick Gordon: I was watching a guy speedrun Doom on GDQ and the music for that game is so amazing, but it sounds really funy when the whole sppedrun is just clipping through a wall and rocket jumping halfway across the level to trigger the checkpoint. Mick Gordon really nailed this soundtrack, it's a massive part of the atmosphere of the game and it's really the logical expansion of the MIDI themes of the original, it sounds like the original in HD, this is what you thought you were hearing.

Angel's Rest - Marisa Anderson: Marisa Anderson's songs are so loosely structured they often seem dreamed up on the spot, but the sounds and moods seem so carefully considered that the notes themselves aren't so important.

Looks Like I Picked The Wrong Week To Quit Oxygen - Michael Giacchino: If Michael Giacchino doesn't get an Oscar for The Incredibles II soundtrack I'm going to riot. The climax of this is so big I had to stop myself from applauding in the theatre, it's irrepressible.

AM // Radio - Earl Sweatshirt & Wiki: I was having a week where I was really feeling like the phrase "I don't like shit, I don't go outside" and so I suddenly remembered this album. This beat is so, so good. It sounds like nothing else, and it only adds to the alien flavour by giving the second half of the track to an instrumental.

World In Harmony - Adebisi Shank: Adebisi Shank are really the perfect band. They love to have fun and have a big time and they started out with a perfect first album and only got bigger and better by the time they got to the third and broke up. This song is so powerful, and my billionaire dream is to finance a new F-Zero game and get Adebisi Shank back together to do the soundtrack.

Make Luv feat. Oliver Cheatham - Room 5: I'm slowly putting together a playlist of songs that sound like Music Sounds Better With You by Stardust in order to invoke some kind of euphoric 'best night ever' and ascend to heaven but this song is the only other one I have so far.

A Love Supreme Part II: Resolution - John Coltrane Quartet: I don't feel qualified to say anything about A Love Supreme, so I don't think I'm going to. I literally don't know where to start with this. It's damn good music.

"You Got A Killer Scene There, Man..." - Queens Of The Stone Age: This song is a real vibe. This should be a whole genre but I've never really found anything else like it. It's like if The Doors were good I suppose. It's shocking that this song only goes for 5 minutes because it really feels like it could go for 20 and you wouldn't mind. I remember a few years ago I opened this in Audition and slowed it down to 75% and I really recommend it, it makes the whole thing feel as sludgy as I think it's supposed to be and makes all the breaks that much more impactful.

Never Let Me Go - Sarah Blasko: A friend sent me this and said it sounds like a Bond theme and he's absolutely right, especially towards the end where it all starts stacking up. Maybe it would need a bit more brass to be a proper Bond theme but still, I love it.

Protection - Emma Ruth Rundle: I love Emma Ruth Rundle so much and I'm so excited that she's got a new album coming out. The absolute textural thickness she can conjure up in a song like this blows me away. I don't know what it is about her voice but it sounds like the 90s somehow. Does that make sense? This feels like 90s music, like the grunge female songwriter thing went a slightly different way and I love it.​

listen here

[itsagrifthing]

One Door Closes

A/N: Oof it’s been a while since I’ve written an rvb fic, but I’ve been going through my WIPs and I really liked this one

Summary: Grif, alone on the moon after the Reds and the Blues went off to save Church with Dylan and Jax, is forced to fend for himself. He comes to terms with each of the Reds as he learns to adapt. 

Tags: Anst, nightmares

Misc: Takes place during season 15, Carolina is red team you can’t change my mind!!! 

DAY 18 SINCE THOSE CRAZY FUCKERS DECIDED TO GO OFF ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE AND KILL THEMSELVES

It had been the second fucking night in row that Grif couldn’t sleep. Which is ridiculous.

Sleeping was his thing, after all. Laziness and sarcasm and food and all that shit. The sole purpose in his life is to seek better naps, darker horizons. He has dreams of sleeping on some faraway island, in a hammock, in a place Sarge or Simmons or all the rest could never find him (except maybe Lopez. Grif always got the feeling that Lopez was kinda cool).

Instead, tonight he roamed the empty, quiet hallways of their stupid makeshift fort. Alone.

He passed Sarge’s room, but still couldn’t bring himself to look inside. Grif had closed that door the day they all left, and it stayed tightly shut to this day. Simmons’s room was a whole other matter, of course-- Grif already raided it for leftover food, and graffitied all over the posters of Sarge and, horrifically, Transformers, hanging up on his wall (he also added a nice handlebar  mustache on every picture of Simmons in Red base. Gotta have a little cultural diversity, right?)

Grif automatically made his way to the kitchen, winding between the beat-up cutout of himself that Sarge propped up in the living room, and the blow-up AirChair Grif smuggled out from Chorus, and stopping right in front of the refrigerator.

He opened the door, licking his lips, eager for something wholly unhealthy and equally delicious. He expected to see Oreo’s (which were definitely better cold), or Cheese Sticks, or leftover pizza, or hell, he’d even settle for some chocolate syrup.

But it was empty. Completely empty. The lettuce was gone. They were even out of goddamn soy sauce!

Fucking hell, Grif thought to himself. He had forgotten that the food had run out about a week ago, and he was always too lazy to go out and find more. His poor, neglected stomach rumbled. There were only so many times one could eat those blue Meth-meth shrooms, after all.

So, instead, Grif turned back down the hallway and began walking.

Walking.

Here was Dexter Grif. Alone. On a little paradise island. Without Sarge or Simmons or any of the fucking Blues here to ruin his life. He could be doing literally anything he wanted.

And he was walking? Fuck that.

But he guessed it calmed him down a little bit. It cleared his mind, and sort of made the dark corners in the base seem a little less dark. And besides, it gave him time to talk with his friend.

“So, I think I’ve figured out the secret to life,” Grif said as he walked out of the base and down toward the beach.

Simmons, keeping up step by step with him, rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, fatass. The secret to life is Twinkies.”

Grif considered this.

“I guess those could come pretty close, with the sweet, sweet cream filling and spongy exterior…” he close his eyes briefly, imagining it. He could almost taste the calories. “Yeah… I’m gonna call those a close second.” He opened his eyes and shook his head. “But no. The secret to life is…” He trailed off, hesitant to say it out loud.

“The suspense is killing me,” Simmons interjected sarcastically.

“I’m pausing for dramatic effect.”

Simmons sighed. “Please, just tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“Alright, here goes. It’s… perspective.”

“Perspective.” Simmons quieted for a moment, considering it for a second. “Explain.”

“Think about it. For years, we’ve been in life-threatening situations, fighting enhanced super-soldiers, or robotically fucked up A.I.’s. We’ve thrown ourselves into the middle of bullshit wars, gotten dragged along on the Blue’s stupid drama throw-downs, and it was the most important thing in the world to us.”

“So…?”

“But look back on it. We’ve been to the very edge of colonized space and back, and I’ve seen it all. It’s all so fucking enormous… There’s so many planets and people and lives and stories and drama. Put into perspective, we… we really haven’t done jack-shit.”

“That’s not true!” Simmons protested. “Stopping the war on Chorus, we’ve saved lives! Stopping the director--”

“We didn’t stop the Director, Carolina handed him a pistol and told him to go fuck himself! And Chorus… well, you heard what Locus and Felix said. It’s just one meaningless planet in a universe of millions and millions of meaningless planets.”

They were quiet. Grif realized that he had stopped walking, caught up in the heat of the moment. He had sunk slightly in the sand, and the waves crept up slowly around his bare feet, sparkling in the bright moonlight. Wind ruffled his hair.

“You don’t mean that,” Simmons said softly. Grif sighed.

“Don’t I?” He could barely bring himself to meet Simmons’ reproachful gaze. The look of disappointment, of pity. The look Grif saw on his face the day they left, and he stayed. The look that screams ‘you’re better than this!’ But he really wasn’t.

“You’re not even real,” Grif muttered, waving his hand, and Simmons disappeared.

He was alone again.

DAY 24 SINCE THOSE ASSHATS LEFT GRIF ALONE ON AN UNINHABITED MOON

Grif hadn’t been talking lately. What was the point? There wasn’t anyone to talk to anyways.

Simmons hadn’t returned since that night, good riddance. Grif didn’t think he could bear to see that look on his face one more time, at least not in person. The look was still etched in his mind, seared into his memories. It ached constantly, a reminder.

Grif shut Simmons’ door last night, and locked it from the inside. The graffiti wasn’t funny anymore.

On the bright side, though, Grif managed to find more food. He’d finally reached the point where he was so desperate for anything that didn’t send him on one hell of an acid trip he raided Blue base for some rope. He collected some leaves and branches too, and sat himself down on a rock for an hour, teaching himself how to make traps.

It wasn’t too hard, he learned eventually, and it was actually an ideal way to hunt. You literally set something down on the ground, and wait for the food to come to you. It was almost too good to be true.

But he soon found out the equalizer the first time he caught a rabbit in his trap.

He watched the creature struggle in vain, it’s limbs flailing helplessly. He stared into its beady, desperate little eyes. He watched as the little creature never stopped trying to escape from its predator in its lost and hopeless battle, and Grif, sickly, felt a little bit of what Locus must have felt when he stalked his prey.

Perspective, Grif thought glumly, then let the rabbit go.

He decided to try his luck at fishing.

He still managed to find other ways to avoid work: he dug a roomba out of the Blue’s basement so it could vacuum up the crumbs that Grif spilled (he never really cared about that before, but it attracted ants, which then stole bits of his other food--and he needed that, desperately), and found some fire-starters to cook the fish with. He burned the books from Wash’s bookshelf instead of gathering sticks (he figured that if the guy ever came back, he would have been through enough shit to not worry about a few lost books too much).

But the obstacle he often ran into was heat.

Sure, the fire-starters started the fire (duh), and, sure, the books kept it going. But it never burned long enough or hot enough for the fish to cook decently.

He needed some sort of fuel, some kind of accelerant, something to make the flames bigger. He racked his mind. They had run out of gasoline ages ago, since Sarge used it all in his stupid war against gravity, and Grif drank all the cooking grease once they ran out of soda. No, he needed something different. Something like… something like… something like…

Perfume.

After much debating, Grif decided to raid Donut’s room that night. The main detractor was, of course, whether or not he could handle seeing whatever pink and lacey monstrosity was in Donut’s room. It was very likely filled with various cleaning products, and nice-smelling chemicals and pretty things.

The very thought disgusted him.

But his need for properly cooked fish out-weighed his apprehension, and, besides, who knows? Maybe Donut’s hiding some spices or shit in his room.

So that was how he found himself standing outside the room of the mildly-frightening, pink, frivolous member of Red team, his hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

He hesitated for a second. Do I really want to do this? he thought. But his stomach rumbled.

He opened the door.

Immediately, bright, flashing lights blinded his eyes, and the scent of grapefruit and vanilla cream overwhelmed him. Grif rocked on his feet as a wave of sensory overload hit him, making him double over with nausea. Lace poured from the ceiling, and the clouds of smells clogged his airway, choking him. Grif gasped and coughed and sputtered, covering his eyes, his mouth, his nose, and he began to feel all his organs beginning to shut down, one by one, as all things pink weaseled its way into every pore, every orifice, taking over Grif’s body and mind--

Okay, it wasn’t really that bad.

Actually, the room was fairly mildly decorated compared to what Grif expected. The walls were a soft shade of coral, accented with neat, white trim. The room was tidy, too-- Simmons would have been impressed-- and a few smartly placed candles sat nicely by the coral-pink bed.

Sure, the room smelled more than slightly of grapefruit and vanilla, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It was actually… kind of relaxing.

Of course, Grif will never admit that. To anyone.

He cautiously walked into the room and made his way straight to the vanity. Perfumes and little bottles of lotion were arranged neatly by both size and color (again, Simmons would be proud), and Grif peered at them. He wondered which one, if any, would work the best. His hand hovered a smaller bottle, then over a large one, then one with an amber liquid, then one with a lilac liquid. There were too many to choose from…

In his indecision, his eyes strayed over to the other side of the desk, where a picture frame sat.

The picture frame was probably the most normal thing in the room, not outfitted with bows or lace or pink decorations, and Grif was surprised he didn’t notice it earlier. It was simple and brown, and though it had a ragged design, he got the feeling it had more heart behind it than anything else.

Grif picked it up and looked closer. Inside the wooden box was a picture of them-- of the Reds and Blues and Wash and Carolina and the Trainees-- all on Chorus. It was clearly a candid photo; in the foreground was Simmons, both clearly startled by the picture being taken and the close proximity of Jensen in all her braces and freckles and pimply teenager glory. Sarge was gruff, his arms folded over his chest and glaring at the camera (but there was a twinkle in his eye). Tucker was arguing with Palomo in the background, while Wash stood a little farther away, eyeing the two of them apprehensively. Grif saw himself sitting on the floor next to Bitters sharing, sharing, a candy bar. Caboose pranced about happily in the background, while Carolina was mid-eyeroll. Kimball and Doyle stood neatly in the background (a little farther apart than necessary), and in front of it all, grinning widely and throwing up a peace sign, was Donut.

Grif could barely remember Donut’s face, but he was pretty sure that was the happiest he had ever seen the guy (and that's saying something).

He set the picture down gently on the vanity again after dusted off the glass. Sunlight bounced off the gleaming frame, scattering particles of light onto the wall behind him, the vanity, and, oddly, a small bottle of orange Chance perfume as if were a spotlight. Or possibly a big arrow saying “this one here!”  

Grif grabbed it and got the hell out of the room.

He hurried downstairs and out onto the lawn where his firepit was set up. His fish were still set out on a clean rock, though he did have to chase off a fly or two. Grif tossed in a few of Wash’s books and pulled out his fire starter. Within seconds, the fire had started and caught, but it still wasn’t as high as Grif needed it to be. He pulled out the tiny bottle.

He unscrewed the top and held it over the fire, hesitating. Would this work? Fire was never something Grif was particularly experienced with. He didn’t want to accidentally burn off his eyebrows or something else important.

He sighed and began to tip the bottle. At the very least, maybe the fish would smell good.

Immediately, the flames caught the liquid and lept into the air. Grif stepped back quickly, startled by the loud woosh the flames gave off as it grew. But the fire continued to stay hot, high and controlled. Grif studied the bottle in his hands. The perfume had worked perfectly.

“Good choice,” Donut said, sitting on the log next to him. Grif glanced at him and began to skewer the fish onto sticks.

“You helped,” he muttered, placing on over the flames. His voice was a little raspy from being unused. Donut beamed.

“You got my message!” Grif sighed.

“Could you have made it any less dramatic?”

Donut shrugged good-naturedly. “A little flair for the dramatic is good for the soul.”

“Says the hallucination.” Grif didn’t look at Donut when he said that, but he knew, just knew, the guy was pouting.

“I’m as real as you want me to be.”

Grif didn’t respond to that, only sat by the fire, turning the fish over and over again. His method was a little slow, but it brought out the juices in the meat. Grif learned that by trial and error, after many dry and undercooked fishes. Though he’d have to change his technique a little with the new heat.

“So,” Donut started again. “You’re learning to cook.”

“If this is cooking,” Grif snorted, gesturing to his setup.

“Well, what else would it be?”

“I don’t know.”

Conversation with the pink guy never came easily to Grif. They were just too different, and unless they were both teasing Simmons, or Grif was yelling at Donut to quit hanging up lace in his room, they never really talked. Not like he and Simmons did.

“Grif? You know you can  always spill your load on me, right?” Grif rolled his eyes. Donut sat straight up, eagerly and sincerely. “I’m serious! I’ll listen to whatever you say. What’s going on?”

Grif didn’t respond for several minutes, focusing instead on the fish. But Donut sat perfectly straight the whole time, his young and honest eyes boring a hole on the back of Grif’s skull.

He sighed.

“Look, I’m just… I…” He hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“I miss you guys,” he blurted out, immediately turning away. Donut didn’t reply, only sat there. Watching.

“It’s been… it’s been so hard by myself. I mean, at first it was awesome. I got to sleep all day and watch TV and eat all the food. There wasn’t any Sarge or Simmons or… or you. No Blues, no Church. Nobody to make my life hell. I finally got a break from it all, all that bullshit.”

Grif took a deep breath and shook his head.

“But now I can’t sleep and this is the most I’ve talked in a long time. I have to fucking hunt for my food. I’ve had fish for breakfast, lunch, dinner for nearly a week now, and I’m sick and tired of it! And…” He paused. “Well, it’s boring here. Like a repeat of Blood Gulch, except now I’m by myself.”

He caught his breath, shocked by the sudden avalanche of words that had come tumbling out of his mouth.

Donut blinked.  “Oh.”

“I miss you guys,” Grif repeated, and that sentence was so heavy he had to sit down on the log just to keep it from crushing him. He buried his head in his hands, and Donut scooted over to pat his shoulder comfortingly.

They sat on that log for what must have been minutes, or hours, or days, or years. The time that passed was non-existent, the breeze that fluttered past the two of them was endless and the night was eternal. It had been forever since they had left; it had been forever since he left them. How long had it been since Grif had someone to talk to? How long had it been since he last saw Simmons, his friend? His family?

It must have been forever.

“You know…” Donut started, breaking the silence. “We’re still here.”

Grif lifted his head slightly, and Donut reached over. He tapped a spot on Grif’s chest over where his heart was. “We’re still right here. We’ll never really be gone.”

“But…” Grif sniffed. “What if you di-- don’t come back?”

Donut laughed quietly. “Even then, we’ll still be with you. As long as you remember us. We’ll sit by the fire with you, we’ll talk with you, we’ll live with you. Just as long as you remember.”

Grif held on to Donut’s words, pulling them tightly to his chest. He pictured each of his friend’s faces, wrapping them in a little bundle and locking them in his heart. Each detail, each little mark, each little stray piece of hair, Grif etched into his mind. He’ll remember them. He goddamn better.

He sighed.

“I’ll tell you what,” Donut said. “You know that picture on my vanity? The one you found today? Why don’t you keep it. It’ll help.”

Grif nodded seriously. “Thank you, Donut.”

Donut laughed softly.

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

And then he was gone.

Grif went in later that night. He placed the empty bottle of perfume on the vanity, and picked up the picture frame. He took one last look into the horrifying, pink room, and smiled before he closed the door, locking it forever.

DAY 32 SINCE HIS FRIENDS BETRAYED HIM

“Grif!”

The scream was loud, long, painful. It grated on Grif’s ears, and stung his throat. Dust covered his eyes, sucking out any moisture. Grif wanted to call back, but his voice was stuck, it wasn’t working. His limbs ached with incredible pain, like he was being ripped apart. A gun was held tightly in his hands, but he couldn’t feel a thing.

“Grif…” The call was more of a whimper now, at his feet. The smell of gunpowder in the air, the taste of metal in his mouth. Someone had been shot.

Grif looked down, past the gun shaking in his hands, and at the body lying beneath him.

Maroon armor.

Simmons was curled up in pain on the ground, clutching at a gaping hole in his abdomen. He gasped and sputtered, while blood seeped through the cracks in his armor.

He blinked.

Pink armor.

Now it was Donut at his feet, it was Donut who was curled up in a ball, it was Donut who was dying, again, and the smell of blood was so strong, so strong.

He blinked.

Red armor.

Sarge.

And he wasn’t moving.

Grif shot up in his bed, sweat pouring down his back. He panted, shoulders and chest heaving, hands shaking. The dark was confining, but all Grif could do was sit there and listen to the voices calling his name over and over again.

He ran a hand through his hair once he could finally move and sighed.

He was cold.

He threw back his covers and left his room. The darkness was too small, so he made his way to the living room. There, he flicked on a lightswitch and dropped down on the couch.

Eager to distract his mind anyway he possibly could, Grif turned on the TV.

He flipped through channel after channel, from the news station (who watches that anymore?) to the sports station, to food network, to the comedy channel, and back to the beginning. He cycled again and again through the channels, but nothing was a good enough distraction for him.

Grif groaned. “Damn it…” he muttered aloud, tossing the useless remote to the floor and flopping back on the couch.

He covered his face with his hands and tried to remember just exactly how his life turned to shit.

It was smooth going for a while, as smooth as it could be. Just Grif and Kaikaina, fending for themselves on some rundown moon, living day by day, flying by the seat of their pants. Of course, there was always money troubles and Grif could distinctly remember sleeping in an abandoned warehouse for a while, so it wasn’t completely amazing. But back then, Grif didn’t need to worry about killing anyone, or aliens, or robots or a corporate conspiracy that went so far as to try to massacre an entire planet.

“It was so much simpler back then,” Grif muttered aloud, not fully aware of even saying it until he heard the response.

“Hmph. Tell me about it.”

Grif became aware of a presence next to him, and between the gruff voice and the stench of diesel, he didn’t have to guess who it was.

Grif rolled his eyes. “What are you talking about? Weren’t you just always in the military? You fought in the Great War, didn’t you? How is that easier?”

Sarge sighed. “Son, when you get to be my age--”

“Jesus christ, here we go,” Grif muttered.

“--you begin to believe you’ve learned everything there is to know. Back in the day, it was black and white. We were good. The Covenant was bad. We had to win, or die trying. Simple.”

Grif snorted. It didn’t sound so simple.

“But now…” Sarge said with a shake of his head. “Red vs. Blue, Blue vs. Red… it’s all the same. I was given a gun and told to fight. I put my faith in the Chain of Command! But it turns out it was all just a lie... It was all some big elaborate scheme cooked up by a couple of greedy scientists. I didn’t know what to think anymore… Without something to fight, there can’t be a Sarge.”

Grif was silent.

“Wow, Sarge. I guess I underestimated you. I never knew you could be so… heartfelt.”

Sarge, not about to insulted like that, cocked his shotgun. “And that’s why I declared war on Gravity! Our true enemy was right beneath our feet this whole time, and we never knew it! Oppressed, by ourselves! Where will the torment end?”

Grif sighed. There was the Sarge he knew.

“Whatever, Sarge. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Hah! I always knew you were a coward Grif!” “Hey!”

“I always knew you were a lazy, good-for-nothing--”

“Come on, man, you aren’t even real.”

“But this is too far! What in Sam Hell do you think you’re going to accomplish by just running away?!”

Grif snapped, whirling around and storming right up to him. “I am not running away!” Sarge glared down at him through his thick white beard. “You were the ones who ran away! AGAIN. You were the ones who went off on a stupid wild goose chase, the ones who aren’t gonna come back because for some goddamn reason you are all so bent on throwing away your goddamn lives for some asshole!” He was screaming, spittle flying everywhere, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care, he was so angry. “And you aren’t gonna come back ever, and it’s just gonna be me all by myself, stupid Grif alone on a stupid moon, stupid lazy Grif who can barely even feed himself--”

“Son.” The word, uncharacteristically firm and final, stopped Grif in his tracks. “Now you listen here. You aren’t gonna get anything done by pitying yourself like this!” Sarge’s voice was gradually rising, and with it, his presence was growing larger and larger until he was practically towering over Grif. “Stop this whining and get on with it! Boy, you ain’t gonna make it a minute like this. In my day--”

“Sarge?”

“In my day, we didn’t have the luxury of complaining! So you’ve only eaten fish, so what?! At least you have fish! In fact, I’ll be damned, you have a whole island full of food! So stop moping around for Eisenhower’s sake, and get off your ass. So you don’t like it? Change it! Because whether we come back or not, you can’t depend on us to save your sorry behind anymore. And I’m sure as hell not gonna come back to find my Private dead.”

It wasn’t until the silence hit for at least a good few minutes that Grif’s head stopped reeling.

“I’m technically a Captain now,” he said meekly. Sarge exhaled heavily and began to shrink down to a normal size.

“Does it really matter?” Sarge asked. He sat down on the couch. “There aren’t any ranks on this island. That’s why I couldn’t stay.”

“Because you need action?”

“Because I need purpose.”

It was funny. Only a few seconds ago, Sarge had been so extraordinarily large, literally and metaphorically, but now on the couch he looked so very small and tired. Grif sat down next to him.

“Purpose, huh.” He chewed on it for a second. “I don’t think I know what my purpose is anymore.”

Sarge turned to look at him. “No one does. That’s why you gotta make your own.”

So maybe that was why the Reds and the Blues left. Because on the moon, without someone to fight, someone to save, they felt as small as Sarge looked now. Because they were purposeless, so they needed to find something even if it was as ridiculous as saving Church yet again.

“Ehh, tell you what.” Sarge scratched the back of his neck, as if he were starting to realize how different he was acting. “I left my old hunter’s manual back in my room. It’ll teach you how to set up traps, or find nuts and berries you can eat. And maybe you could make up some maps, or keep track of animals or something. Just, you know. Something to do.”

Grif met his gaze appraisingly, and though he appreciated the kindness his old C.O. was showing him, he couldn’t resist a jab.

“You know that’s what the internet is for, right?”

Sarge hmphed. “Internet. The cheater’s tool! Maybe one of these days I’ll declare war on the internet too!”

“Good luck with that.”

Sarge’s room was about as military-like as he expected. A plain cot, an empty gun rack, a barrel which, Grif assumed, was used to hold ammunition. A packet of cigarettes sat on the desk, next to a small pistol and another object. Grif pocketed the cigarettes and picked up the book.

The hunter’s manual was old and leather-bound, filled with detailed pictures and descriptions, notes in painstaking cursive and more. It was worn, and some pages were falling out. Holding it, Grif could just barely picture a younger Sarge, trekking through the jungle with his shotgun, carefully tracking a deer. He flipped through the pages, pages covered in these illustrations all the way until he reached about two-thirds of the way through.

The rest was blank.

Grif’s stomach rumbled.

He snapped the book shut. Tucked away the pistol. Pulled out a cigarette.

And shut the door behind him.

DAY 56 SINCE THEY LEFT

The nightmares were getting worse every night.

And they were different every night, that was the thing. If they were the same over and over again, maybe Grif would have been able to brace himself for the images to come. Somehow, he could prepare himself, block out the screaming.

But it wasn’t always screaming.

Sometimes it was cursing as his teammates surrounded him in a circle of hatred, stabbing him with insults like they were knives, blaming him for their own deaths, blaming stupid, idiot, lazy Grif for screwing up again.

Sometimes it was cries as his friends and family were being slaughtered right in front of his eyes and there was nothing he could do. Sometimes he was frozen. Lately, he’d been asleep. Again.

Tonight, it was silence.

Never before had he ever heard a silence so empty, so devoid of life and love and meaning, so dark, so… completely… quiet.

He stood alone on the hill overlooking their bases--on the moon--the Gulch--Chorus--Valhalla--as the sun set in front of him.

Waves washed silently on the shore--sand blew across the canyon--the beacon pulsed--the engine whirred--and he reached for the bases, the bases where his friends should have been, smiling or laughing or bickering and so, so alive.

But no one was there.

His own heartbeat throbbed in his ears, the bases flickered--GulchChorusValhallaMoon--and he opened his mouth to shout, to scream, to say anything at all, but he couldn’t even make a sound and all the while…

Silence.

Grif woke up for the nth time clutching at his sheets, drenched in cold sweat.

Light streamed through the cracks of the hammock in which he slept outside (the base was too empty for him to sleep at all) and he shielded his eyes as he slowly unfolded the fabric that surrounded him.

Sunrise never seemed fresher than this cool morning on the moon, as the breeze glided through the rustling trees. The air never smelled cleaner; the salty smell of the ocean, crisper.

He stepped out of the hammock, carefully watching his footing. His armor was strewn on the ground before him, bright against the green grass which had regrown since the RedBlues last set the bases on fire.

An alien creature, a mix between a bird and a dog, lay curled next to the pieces, soaking up the newly-risen sun. Grif had found him one day while hunting, and in the midst of a bout of loneliness, decided to keep him as a pet. He still couldn’t think up a name for him, though he toyed with naming it Simmons just to see the look on his face if he got back, so he just called it ‘it’ or ‘you’ or ‘pet’ or really any word that would indicate he was talking to the half-dog.

His rifle leaned up against the tree next to Pet. Grif, needed to fill his days somehow, had created a routine of cleaning it every morning it.

Cleaning it. Grif. In a routine.

Yeah, the Redblues were sure to get a kick out of that if they came back.

He wasn’t really sure when he stopped saying ‘when’ and started saying ‘if’, but now his life had more important things to do.

“Come on Grif, come on, come on, get up,” he muttered as he fell out of the hammock. He had changed much on his time alone here. His hair now unfurled down to his shoulders. He’s got the stubble of facial that desperately wants to grow in, but doesn’t have the genetics to back it up. He’s considerably leaner and tanner, hunting for food just to eat every day would do that to a person. His body looked like almost a new person.

His mind hasn’t escaped unharmed either.

“Busy today. Busy busy busy. Busy as a bee. Bzzzz. Buzzy bee-body. Busy buzzy beezy bodies.” His armor took exactly sixty-point-zero-two seconds to put on. He knows, he counted every one. His record was forty-five-point-five seconds. “Bees buzz. Flies buzz. No, flies fly. Busy bee bodies busy and fifty flies fly far...far… far away.”

To be fair, there really wasn’t much else to do but talk now.

“Come on, come on, come on, Pet.” He gently pushed the half-dog up. “Lots to do today. Lots and lots and lots of stuff do to.”

They trudged through the wilderness, today like every other day: him gripping his rifle, Pet plodding alongside him. They went through one by one and methodically checked the traps.

Still empty, a relief. Grif had long since forced himself to start eating the small creatures caught in the traps, but he still hated seeing the creature struggle like it did. It still sickened him. But beggars can’t be choosers.

“Nah, who can choose?” Grif laughed as he brushed the leaves back over the rope on the ground. “Cheaters. Cheaters can choose. I’m not a cheater. I’m Grif. I’m not a coward. Well, not all the time. Right Sarge? I’m not a coward all the time. I’m just doin’ my purpose, y’know? Just my purpose.”

“What is your purpose, Grif?” Carolina asked as she stepped quietly next to him.

“Oh hey, Carolina,” he greeted cheerily. He liked Carolina. Cool Carolina. Not-a-coward Carolina. She made him feel strong. “Today it’s to get this damn deer to stop eating my garden.”

“And tomorrow?” Silly Carolina. She’d always do this. Always try to make him think about tomorrow, the tomorrow that might be sad, the tomorrow that didn’t matter to him right now.

“Nah, just today,” he said to her.

“Grif,” she pressed. Together they crouched down behind a bush. “You need to start thinking about a tomorrow.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why do I have to? Why does tomorrow even matter?”

Carolina frowned. “How could it not? Don’t you want to get off of this moon? DOn’t you want to see your friends again?”

“My friends?”

“The Reds and the Blues.”

“Oh. Right.” In the distance, a creature raised its head. Grif shifted slowly to get a better view. “Nah. They’ll come back. I just have to wait.”

“Grif…” He heard her sigh behind him. “What if waiting doesn’t work? What if they’re in trouble and they need you save them?”

He mulled that over, then waved it off. “They’re the Redblues. They’ll be fine. They’ll come back. They’ll come back for me.”

“What happens when they don’t--”

“If!” With sudden force, Grif whirled around. Carolina leaned back in surprise. “It’s ‘if’ now, don’t you know?! If they don’t come back! If they do! ‘If’!”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean--”

Grif slammed his rifle down angrily, and the deer in the distance, spooked, sprinted away. “Because I see them! In my dreams! They’re sad and hurting and if they don’t come back, then I’ll know the dreams are true and I did nothing! I stayed behind! Like a coward!”

“Grif,” Carolina said, placing her hand on his. “It wouldn’t be your fault. You did what you thought was right--that doesn’t make you a coward.”

He sniffed. “Yes it does.”

“No, it doesn’t. You know why? Because every night you face the darkest dreams and your deepest fears. Anyone else would have gone insane by now, but you face the worst possible outcomes every night. That doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you the opposite.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Carolina… I miss them. But I’m scared to see them again.”

“The Reds and the Blues are your friends,” she told him firmly. Carolina knew what he meant. “Whether they come back or not, they’ll will always love you. Love you. Do you get that?”

No they won’t, Grif thought, but he couldn’t say that to Carolina. Simmons won’t. He won’t forgive me. He couldn’t bear to think of a tomorrow in which Simmons didn’t forgive him. He couldn’t bear to think of a tomorrow in which Simmons didn’t come back.

“I just…” he sniveled. “I just wish I could say sorry to him.”

“Take a deep breath,” Carolina soothed. “And I’ll tell you what. I don’t have something from my room to give you, but I think I saw some volleyballs in the garage.”

Grif looked up at her, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can use them to practice saying sorry. You know, for if they come back. You can make things up with Simmons.”

He nodded. “I do miss him a lot too.”

“Alright then, it’s settled.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “I’ll show you where they are.”

In the end, he still got to go in Carolina’s room.

It was pretty and neat. Nothing personal. Just a couple of dog tags resting on a letter from Kimball on the nightstand. The clothes and other objects (typically running gear, that was what she did now) she didn’t take with her were folded neatly in the closet.

But the dresser was different story.

Her dresser was littered with half-full paint tubes and brushes and crayons and markers and pastels and all different art supplies. Paint stains covered the smooth wood finish, and the drawers were crammed shut with papers of all colors and sizes.

Grif took some glittery gold paper and red paints of varying colors and retreated out of the room.

“Thanks for letting me use these,” he said to her, his eager hands clutched with the supplies. “You’re cool, Carolina. I wished I talked to you more before you left. You aren’t that scary after all.”

She laughed, a nice sound, a pretty sound. “Any time. And who knows? Maybe you’ll get another chance soon.”

He smiled and reached for the doorknob, but she stopped him quickly.

“Are you sure? I’m the last one. I won’t be there to talk to you after nightmares anymore.”

“I know,” Grif said. “But I’m not a coward. I think it’s time I take those on myself.”

She frowned then, when she was supposed to smile, supposed to be supportive for him. “You know… you don’t have to take them on all alone.”

“I’m already alone,” he replied, surprising himself a little. “But I’m done talking to ghosts now.” He gestured to the paints. “I’m ready to write the script now.”

Carolina nodded with cool respect in her eyes. Sometimes he didn’t remember that Carolina, cool, nice Carolina used to be a hardass Freelancer. Now, however, he wondered how he could have ever forgotten.

She stepped back and saluted formally. “Good luck, Captain Grif. Make yourself a better tomorrow. And… when I get back, stop by once or twice, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.” He saluted back.

And shut the door.

DAY ZERO

“Listen Simmons. Shhhh, I got… some things to say. To you. Some things I’ve gotta get off my chest buddy. Buddy? Nah, not buddy. Stupid. Friend? Friend. Fr--no, definitely friend. Anyway, I’ve had a bit of time to think about some things. Lots of time actually. Oodles of time. Oodles of buckets of times of time. Tempo de mucho! Mucho de tempo! Now, listen Simmons. Simmmmmons. Sim--Sim--Cinnamon--ah! Focus Grif!

“Now things ended really bad out there, buddy--no, friend!--and I’ve been thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking. I need to tell you that I am super duper, I am so incredibly--”

[cjostrander]

Fall Out Boy: Mania

Hello everyone! Today i am going to scratch another promo review and decided to do the latest album from Fall Out Boy. I’ve been learning towards wanting to scratch off their other album Save Rock n’ Roll since it is due for an anniversary review; but a promo review theme won out. This is a relatively short album from them at just over a half hour long and features them continuing to develop their current comeback pop sound that they shifted to with their Save Rock n Roll release. I found it to be a pretty interesting work to round out this sound before venturing into a different direction potentially. Let’s begin and see where it takes us.

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: The album starts off with a quick electronic bass drum bash and takes little time in getting the album up to a strong dance energy. The rhythm component is pretty engaging and will add to the dance structure of it. Patrick’s vocals are pretty smooth even though they are very heavy on the electronic autotune which at times is a positive and harsh negative in his singing. The lyrics are very entertaining to follow along to while the instrumentals focus on a strict supporting role to him. The inclusion of swearing changes things up a little bit and shows them shifting emphasis on being a complete mainstream product. The electronica usage makes for effective interludes and will help to provide a strong sense of length to this song that would fit well for a live performance as well as a night time club scene. 8.5/10

The Last of the Real Ones (single): This first single begins with a soothing key melody that continues to leave the listener in a solid state of dance. The vocals arrive with a nice sense of catchiness; though of course i will knock the heavy auto tune throughout the album when focused on. The chorus is very energetic yet reserved and pours a nice balance of refined power in Patrick’s delivery. The lyrics are a lot more basic than the last song so don’t expect this one to have as much substance in that area than the last song. It is still pretty easy to follow along to and enjoy; so i would see little issue in continuing on in the album. The other notion from past listens is that the flow of this album would be suitable for a full album performance if they chose. 8/10

Hold Me Tight or Don’t (single): This next single begins with soft whistling and electronic loops beginning before drums arrive to give the song a fresher island pop like feeling. It works decently and does showcase them experimenting in a tasteful manner. The mixing however is turned down a fair bit so it doesn’t have the force in sound that the last two songs had. It definitely focuses them on a different section of pop than they normally dabble in which will be a hit or miss for fans. I think it is a decent approach from them since it will keep the album from getting stale and predictable; with the added bonus of fitting very easy into a mainstream concert setting (tv awards show or something). 7.5/10

Wilson (Experience Mistakes) (single): This next single which showcases that the band still has major label support three albums into their comeback; begins with audio samples and soothing loops which will put a listener into a very relaxed feeling. The vocals have a very atmospheric vibe and the autotune is a lot more balanced on this song than the first two songs. The chorus has a very strong sense of power that will be perfect for wooing a live audience. The lyrics are very strongly written and will provide heavy substance for the listener to follow along to at an easygoing rate. This is definitely one of the stronger songs on the album that features more freshness for the band’s sound and with the further inclusion of swears shows their less dominant focus on mainstream politeness. 8.5/10

Church: This song starts off with low bell rings from an organ and Patrick arrives with a soft and low gospel delivery before signaling for the bass and drums to establish a modest rhythm. Backing female gospel vocals work nicely to support Patrick while he delivers some rather interesting lyrics to follow along to. His voice is very smooth in pacing and general tone which avoids overdoing his high notes. The electronic effects are use to a balance degree to further fit with a gospel feeling in the song and helps to keep a theme going without trying to beat it into the listener’s ears. I would note this as another interesting experiment from the band that fits with the album flow and could possibly be pulled off well live with they were ambitious and theatrical enough with it’s live aspects. 8/10

Heaven’s Gate: This second half of the album continues with the gospel tone of the last song but takes it into a very deep piano ballad tone. Patrick uses this song to really showcase his vocal abilities since he is very much alone on this one with minimal instrumental support. The lyrics are decent and slow moving which will provide a soothing effect on the listener; though over-focusing on them would cause them to feel drawn and lose their interest rather quickly. Other than that i think it would of been better off place towards the end of the album in order to not slow things down too much for the listener but they still have a few more energetic songs to hopefully keep some life in the album. 7/10

Champion (single): This next single is going to be more typical style Fall Out Boy that will be comparable to their last two albums in case the more experimental stuff on here was too far out there for older fans. It begins with a simple electronic opening before Patrick arrives with a small sense of swagger in his voice. The drum beat provides a simple but effective rhythm while the guitars infuse some effects into the background to prop Patrick up a bit further. The chorus goes by very well with a sense of empowerment that will reflect well on a live show and mainstream radio. Patrick does toy around with a rapping like vocal style that works at decently for the flow of the song without appearing to showcase that effort. I will note that like i said earlier; it is a standard Fall Out Boy hit and because of that; is enjoyable but predictable and very simple to come across on the album. 7.5/10

Sunshine Riptide: Patrick brings back a heavy dose of auto tune to create a more rap centric style for his voice. The bass and drums create a rather interesting rasta style that will either be a hit or miss for the listener. They do feature a guest rapper by the name of Burna Boy which performs actually rather well in the song and pretty much could of easily made this song’s style his very own if he was more prominent throughout it. I can definitely say that for only being a half hour long this getting to be a very lengthy album listen from them; though it definitely is intended for a late night atmosphere in order to really appreciate. 7/10

Young and Menace (single): This final single begins with a slow fade in before Patrick’s low vocals set forth to establish a soft sense of tension in the mix. The lyrics are very interesting to follow along to and Patrick’s voice has a very catchy tone to it that resonates nicely off of the drum loops. The chorus is comprised of strong vocal loops and dubstep electronica. I know that this was heavily bashed when it was first released but i actually view this experiment to be one of the strongest on the album. It has its ups and downs of course but this is easily one of the songs to listen to during a rough breeze through in order to get the gist of the album’s sound. 7.5/10

Bishops Knife Trick: This finale piece begins with a very soothing key echo that perfects establishes an atmosphere of farewell. Patrick’s vocal delivery meshes with it nicely and creates a very soothing quality for the listener to unwind to blissfully. The instrumentals liven up slight which provides for some life in the album before it closes. The ambient nature of it too is a nice experiment for the band to test out since it could very easily lose momentum like other songs did on the album but it manages to push through with relative ease. I don’t think that i would of made it four and a half minutes long since it runs the risk of getting the point across to the listener too early on. Other than that; it is a suitable way to close out the album. 8/10

Overall album rating: 7.8/10

Now i definitely do enjoy this album but note that it signals the band approaching the limits of their current sound. They do experiment heavily on here which makes it an interesting album to come across but even then it is predictable in that regard and losing life as the album progresses. It is very easy going which i’m sure is intended and will make for a very good choice to unwind to at night. Due to its soft approach it makes you wonder what anybody other than Patrick does on the album. Obviously you can hear the instruments blended in but there is so much electronica used that they are starting to fall into Maroon 5′s problem where it is hard to distinguish which is an actual band member performance and a computer. Hopefully their next album either changes directions a bit or returns to the blended pop rock energy of their last two albums; which are very well done by the way. I’ve gotta head out now but that’s one more album off of my promo list for you guys. My next one will probably return to an older anniversary review since i gotta start scratching off at least one of them this month before we get closer to the holidays.

[vankoya]

Sticky Date Deals.

➢ A Christmas drabble series based on this list!

Genre | College / Fake Dating AU.

Pairing | Park Jimin / Feminine Reader.

Conspectus | Park Jimin is always asking favours of you in exchange for beneficial deals. But no deal seems as appealing as the one that he offers when he smells of hot chocolate, pudding, and a warm embrace that calms you down when you need it most.

For the nth time that evening, you wonder why you ever agreed to this. You do not even like Christmas, nor crowds of people that you cannot remember half the names of, which only adds to the whole fatuousness of the situation.

It started with a favour. It always does. A favour asked by none other than Park Jimin, a biology major, just like yourself, who you met two years ago when you were both freshman. Over the years, as your friendship with Jimin has blossomed into something that is simultaneously the best thing that has happened to you, and a pungent taste of fresh Hell, you have become known as–

“Fake girlfriend!” Jimin had screeched across the library on the day of his proposal, which earned him nothing more than a chorus of violent hushing and a fierce glare from you. Completely ignorant to the laws of the sacred quiet place, Jimin had stormed over to where you were sat, taking notes from your textbook, and draped his whole torso over the table. “Duty calls. I need another favour.”

“First of all, keep your voice down, oh my god,” you had hissed, pen clutched in a death grip in your fist as you had sent apologetic smiles to the surrounding, annoyed students. “Second of all, if I have to save your dumb ass from a date you don’t want to go on, then save it. I’m not experiencing that again.”

“Okay, look, that glass of water Hyesoo threw was aimed at me and not you. It was just an unfortunate natural instinct to hide behind you when she did it,” Jimin had sighed and propped himself up on his side by an elbow, black hair a tousled mess from running over to the library. A heart-shaped something had risen in your throat at the sight, but you were quick to swallow it down. “But no, I need you to get your festive cheer on. I have my family’s Christmas get-together this Saturday night, and mother dearest has made it explicitly clear that she will strangle me with tinsel if I don’t rock up with a date.”

“You know I hate Christmas,” you had immediately grunted and dropped your pen so you could drag your hands down your face. “And people.”

Jimin had leaned in close, a grin on his face like a half-moon, curved in bright light against a dark night sky. You had swallowed again, harder. “But you love me. I’ll be right by your side all night. And I’ll help you study for next week’s test with my trusty, holy Book of Notes. Deal?”

At that point, you had no idea what made you agree. Whether it was his proximity that allowed the pleasant scent of his cologne to drift into your senses, the divine smile that was all plush lips and pearly teeth, or the promise of the Book of Notes which is as close as to the Holy Bible that any biology student can get. You were not sure. Maybe a lethal combination of the three, because less than a second later, you had closed your eyes and muttered a barely perceptible, “Deal.”

Whiplash back to the present, and you are enduring one of the top ten most uncomfortable experiences of your life. Worst of all, you have not seen Jimin in roughly fifteen minutes, and you can feel an anxiety-shaped chisel beginning to chip away at your collected facade.

“Sorry love, how long did you say Jimin and yourself had been dating again?” An aunty, dressed in a catastrophe of festive snowman earrings, an ugly Christmas sweater, a Santa hat, and candy cane trousers, asks you. You hardly know where to look, for your eyes burn no matter where they land on her attire.

“T-Two years,” you stammer, resorting to staring into your half-full flute of champagne. Even the alcohol cannot soften the edges of your unease. Another family member bumping into your back as they pass by does nothing to help, causing your throat to close over with a thick film.

“Oh, I swear that boy said it was three,” she scrutinises, and you take a hasty sip of the crisp bubbles. The fizzle on your tongue is a comfort that scarcely lingers, and you know you need to get some air.

“Um, you’re right, I guess it just, uh, feels like we started dating last week,” you stumble over your words, and you are certain that the aunty must notice your feeble coverup. Blinking away the wetness beginning to cloud your vision, you take a deep, shuddering breath, and lie, “Sorry, I’m feeling a little tipsy. I’m going to go get some fresh air.”

Before the aunty can protest, or perhaps, offer to join you, you are twisting on your heel and charging through the clustered space, placing the champagne flute on the kitchen counter in your rush towards the backdoor. An icy gust hits you the instant you step outside into the snow, wracking your bones with a chilly shiver, yet you are too embarrassed to go back inside and retrieve your coat. So, in nothing but your jeans, a thin sweater, and your boots, you huddle down on the step and let the cold shake you back to your senses. Calming you from the threat of a panic attack that had you teetering on the very edge of a breakdown inside the party.

“You’re okay, don’t freak yourself out,” you try to soothe yourself through the trembling, letting the tears stream hotly down your frosty cheeks. “It’s fine, you’re okay–“

“___?”

The voice catches you off-guard, and in your bout of surprise, you snap your head up to face the owner before you think to wipe away the evidence. Jimin stares down at you, eyes like planets, shock painting his features with distress once he notices the sparkling lines trailing down your face.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He immediately asks, concern laced tight through his tone as he drops down beside you, pulling you close to his chest. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Where’s your jacket? Come here.”

A fresh surge of tears overcomes you as you are pressed to the warmth that is Jimin. Smelling like hot chocolate, sticky date pudding, a comfort that you never quite realise how much you long for until it is right there before you, arms open. You let him pull you onto his lap, tuck your damp face into his neck and softly sob, feel the way that he rocks you into an equanimous state.

“I’m sorry, ___. I left for too long, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. I just, I completely forgot, I shouldn’t have, I’m an idiot,” Jimin mumbles his apologies against the crown of your hair, but they are fruitless, for you forgave him the moment he stepped outside.

You shift back so you can capture the worry that frames his features with your own eyes, and try not to think about how this might be the closest your faces have ever been. “You’re not an idiot. I’m just,” a sniffle, “stupidly emotional.”

“It’s not stupid, you can’t help feeling that way,” Jimin smiles softly, unwrapping an arm from your waist so he can wipe at your tears with a thumb. He almost appears entranced when he whispers, “How can you still be so pretty, even when you’re crying?”

You blink, shocked, eyelashes sticky. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Have I never told you that before?” He responds in a similar tone, the hand that was drying your skin now remaining in a soft caress against your cheek. Your heart begins to thud at a rabbit-like pace for a much different reason. “Yeah, you’re super pretty. Unbearably pretty.”

“W-Well, you are too. But you know that already because you’re such a cocky, self-confident asshat,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes in faux accusation, and he only grins wider.

“True, but it’s nicer when you say it,” he quietly admits, licking his lower lip, and you cannot help but follow the action with your sight. In the air, a static something crackles, sparking to life.

Jimin, always the brave one, acts upon it before you can even consider to.

It is as you always imagined. His lips are as soft and plush as they look; delightfully warm and damp. They move in gentle motions against your own, like waves calmly rolling onto the shore. His tongue dips into your mouth, touches to your own, feeling like velvet, tasting like cinnamon. In his embrace, you melt; snow beneath the sunshine of a new day.

Making a sound that appears suspiciously akin to a pleasant moan, Jimin pulls away. All over, roses have blossomed in the pink of his cheeks and nose, the slight swell of his lips. He looks so beautiful that, when he goes to speak, you cannot help but cut him off with another quick kiss that he smiles into.

“That, wow,” he breathes, and the white cloud that exhales with his words settles warmly on your face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“You were too busy asking me to be your fake girlfriend that you never thought I could be a real one, hm?” You tease, poking at his chest, and Jimin clasps your face and presses your foreheads together, grinning. You distantly wonder why you ever felt so anxious in the first place. How one being can calm you so effortlessly, just by his presence.

“Something like that,” he chuckles, kissing you once more, and you curl closer. “Is that a deal, then? Be my real girlfriend?”

This time, you do not question your decision. You do not regret it. You do not wonder why you ever agreed to it in the first place. Because now, you absolutely, wholeheartedly mean it when you say, “Deal.”

All Rights Reserved © Vankoya. No translations, reposting and/or modifying of the material is allowed without my direct permission.

[aion-rsa]

​​​​Pokémon: The Evolution of the Dub Opening Themes

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When you talk to any casual fan about Pokémon, they’ll remember three things. Pikachu, Porygon seizures, and the theme song. The original theme of Pokémon has entrenched itself into pop culture, and is arguably the biggest song to come out of an anime dub ever.

But the Pokémon franchise has had a long journey since that initial success, its opening theme songs changing with the times. Even as theme songs for TV have mostly gone away, Pokémon has kept the light of them alive with no fewer than 24 songs across as many years!

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Why don’t we take a look back and see how they’ve evolved in that time? It’s worth examining how music trends influenced the songs and which ones are just straight up bops. Along the way we’ll look at how the songs match up to the visuals of the openings as well, because these songs don’t exist in a vacuum and exist first and foremost to be paired with the shows.

Pokémon Indigo League

‘Pokémon Theme’

How do you begin to discuss perfection?

This is the theme song by which all Pokémon theme songs are judged. That isn’t just nostalgia talking, they hit this out of the park. The opening notes convey a sense of wonder and mystery, aided by the sights of Mewtwo and Mew. The lyrics expertly convey the core appeal of the franchise and the anime in particular; you’re traveling on a big adventure to catch as many of these creatures as you can! It should feel like cynical marketing, especially with “gotta catch ‘em all,” but it’s inspiring! It’s right up there with ‘The Fellowship’ theme from Lord of the Rings as one of the best adventure songs of all time.

But you know what this song has that the Lord of the Rings theme doesn’t? Visuals timed to the beat of the song! Let me tell you, Lord of the Rings would have won 11 Oscars for every single movie in the franchise if they started their films with opening visuals edited together this perfectly. Damn near every cut in the opening is put on the beat or matches the flow of the song. The perfect example of this is the shot just before the logo where Ash tosses the Poké Ball. The timing of that ball toss with “gotta catch ‘em ALL” is expert level.

You may think you remember this opening solely because of the song but those visuals do a lot of legwork.

 Pokémon: Adventures in the Orange Islands

‘Pokémon World’

Pokémon could have stuck with the original opening forever, endlessly remixing it (Degrassi style, baby!) but they made the bold decision to make ‘Pokémon World’ it’s own thing and it earns major points for that. The original theme is a classic adventure song but this feels more like an adventure song specifically for the summer. It’s bouncier, breezier, and lighter but still communicates the wonder of the Pokémon world.

The visuals aren’t timed quite as well but we’ve still got shots like that one of Officer Jenny and Nurse Joy perfectly synced to the cadence of the “CROWWWDS” lyric.

Pokémon: The Johto Journeys

‘Pokémon Johto’

‘Pokémon World’ boldly broke free from the original but it still maintained the general feel. This one does something completely new. This isn’t an adventure song; this is a fun time with your friends! It’s practically a campfire sing-along song! This reflects the general shifting of what the Pokémon franchise was at the time, from a game and anime with some shades of gray to a bright and colorful, suitable for every demographic with all the edges filed off. That isn’t a knock by the by, the theme needs to be an accurate portrayal of what you’re getting and this song does an excellent job at that. It’s just not as exciting as what came before.

The editing and visuals are above average here but we’re seeing the beginning of a noticeable issue with the opening themes. They’re mixing visuals from the Japanese opening (which clearly has better animation) and visuals from the show. You’ve got this crisp and bright animation next to the softer visuals from the show. It takes you a little out of the experience of the theme, even if it’s only subconsciously.

Pokémon: Johto League Champions

‘Born to Be a Winner’

Oh I am HERE for this song. First off you’ve got the song leading with the chorus of the original theme but it’s got a solid new beat behind it. That beat drives the entire song and it only gets bigger and better as it goes. This is the feeling of adventure the first two themes gave us but with a new edge!

And man that cut when Ash and Pikachu land that’s timed perfectly to “JOH-TO” is sublime. Shame the visuals, which look so crisp and uniform, are oddly broken up with that shot at the end of Umbreon taken from the show. Why is it the only one? It’s a good shot but come on, keep it consistent!

Pokémon: Master Quest

‘Believe in Me’

This one is… fine. It’s fine! It’s biggest sin is that it’s pretty generic. Besides the two shouts of “Pokémon!” it feels like it could fit any other early 2000’s anime dub. Also we’ve got the first (and  not the last) awkward shoehorning in of the title of the season. “I’m on a MASTER QUEST!” I mean, I get it. Ash wants to be a Pokémon master. I get what they’re going for but… eh.

The song also doesn’t have a strong beat behind it so I guess they decided not to care about matching the edits to the song. It’s not bad but again, very average.

Pokémon: Advanced

‘I Wanna Be a Hero’

…I wanna be a hero? I know Ash has saved the world way more times than he can even remember but that really isn’t his focus. He’s not a hero. (And don’t you dare come in these comments and talk about Slowking and the world turning to Ash, this ain’t the movies!) He’s not trying to stop evil, corruption, or the dozens of criminal organizations that challenge children to Pokémon battles. He’s just a guy! The song itself is once again fine but generic. The editing is a little better than last time, if only for finally making all the visuals consistent.

Pokémon: Advanced Challenge

‘This Dream’

Now THIS is more like it. That guitar adds so much! The lyrics are back to feeling more like Pokémon. Dreams! Rising to the challenge! Friendships! This theme is proof that Pokémon openings are far better when the lyrics reflect the show. I know someone in the Pokémon music office (I imagine there’s just 100 Jigglypuff plushies in there) has dreams of one of these openings taking off on the pop charts and wants to make it as generic as possible with as few references to Pokémon as possible to do so. That’s a mistake. This isn’t some generic anime that has a song about love or whatever and never mentions the title in the song (looking at you basically every anime opening ever.) This is a gigantic franchise! Let the song be unabashedly about the series!

The power is back in the editing as well! Should almost every opening time its music to Ash tossing a Poké Ball? Yep!

 Pokémon: Advanced Battle

‘Unbeatable’

We are on a roll! Great instrumental, good singer, and those lyrics really hone in on the battling aspect of Pokémon. What really makes this one work is that, “from the stars and the ancient past” lyric. Hinting at the mystery of the Pokémon world adds a richness and wonder to any opening theme and it breaks up all the lyrics about battling. Also I’m just a sucker for “Ooooowhoaaaa” in songs.

This one feels like they had the clips they wanted to use in the opening and gave it to whoever wrote the song because they all fit so damn well!

Pokémon: Battle Frontier

‘Battle Frontier’

Uh, well that roll was short. Also, this song is way too short! It has no time or room to build! Not that it has much to work with, it’s an extremely weak song which isn’t helped by needing to get “BATTLE FRONTIER” in there somewhere. It worked for Advanced Battle because those two words are cool. Battle is cool, obviously, but the word frontier is wasted on a song like this. If this was more of an adventure tune like the original opening it might work but this is just generic filler music. The first opening that falls into the “below average” category.

Pokémon: Diamond and Pearl

‘Diamond and Pearl’

I take it back! Give me ‘Battle Frontier’ back! When you start a new era of Pokémon you need your opening theme to hit hard and this is beyond weak. Working in the lyrics “it’s a new game” and “DIAMOND AND PEARL” does it zero favors, nor does the speak-singing. These openings, both in their music and visuals, are quickly becoming forgettable.

Pokémon: DP Battle Dimension

‘We Will Be Heroes’

We’ve got a stronger singer this time but the song has no energy driving it! On paper the lyrics are fine, even if someone at the Pokémon office does not understand, once again, that Ash and company aren’t heroes. Also this theme just isn’t exciting. A Pokémon theme song NEEDS to be exciting! Come on, you’ve got a shot of the team on jet skis! How is this boring?!

Pokémon: DP Galactic Battles

‘Battle Cry – (Stand Up!)’

Okay, we’re back on track! Great singer, sense of adventure, a chorus echoing the lyrics (always a good move) and that killer drumbeat! A drumbeat that the editor smartly timed a lot of the clips to. I dig it! It also smartly only busts out the “GALACTIC BATTLES!” at the very end, which more of these seasons with awkward titles should do.

Pokémon: DP Sinnoh League Victors

‘We Will Carry On!’

At this point I need to ask, why are we even bothering with an intro? Sure Galactic Battles was okay but the songs are so short they don’t use that short time properly. 30-second intros can be done, OK K.O! did an amazing opening song in 20 seconds! This song though is just some mindless Disney Channel level butt rock.

Pokémon: Black and White

‘Black and White’

I wish this had more of that male singer. It sounds like he’s trying to do an ‘80s ballad impression (a little Michael Bolton) which would have been INCREDIBLE for a Pokémon theme but instead we go for a passable if generic vocal. I think there’s a lot of potential in using the “black and white” concept for a song (good and evil in the Pokémon world is a thing!) but then I remember. It’s Pokémon. We’re not wrestling with deep moral and ethical questions about good and evil here.

Also the choice of a CG opening is… a choice! It’s certainly unique for the franchise but if the show isn’t CG what’s the point?

Pokémon: BW Rival Destinies

‘Rival Destinies’

Look, I love some butt rock. ‘Phenomenon’ by Thousand Foot Krutch is a killer song but you need more OOMPH in your song to pull it off! Pokémon is one of the biggest franchises on the planet! It needs a better song than one you’ll forget five seconds after it ends. Embrace the butt rock! Let these singers really go for it!

Pokémon: Adventures in Unova and Beyond

‘It’s Always You and Me’

I didn’t know Christian Kids Rock was a genre the Pokémon series would try and tackle but here we are. What hath God wrought? I guess I can give it a point for its commitment to not have even an inkling of edginess? Honestly I’m so distraught by these openings at this point I’m just trying to find anything good I can.

We’re also long past the visuals and editing that bother to match the opening song and it’s a shame. I know the anime is a disposable product meant to prop up the games and franchise as a whole but man, the lack of care in the editing is a little sad. We’ve certainly come so far from the very first opening.

Pokémon the Series: XY

‘Pokémon Theme (Version XY)’

Oh. Oh my god. Oh my GOD. It’s good. No, it’s great. No, it’s INCREDIBLE. I’m saved! You may think it’s only because of nostalgia but let me tell you, they could have done that original song dirty. No, they pulled out all the stops and gave that classic a new lease on life. They pick up the pace and give it a harder rock sound. It’s still only 30 seconds but they use every moment to its fullest extent.

This extends to the visuals which, for the first time in a long time, perfectly match the song. When the chorus hits and the song picks up they toss endless battle shots at you! It’s epic! It pumps you up! After so long it finally feels like a Pokémon theme song again in music and visuals.

Pokémon the Series XY: Kalos Quest

‘Be a Hero’

Welp, it was nice while it lasted. Look, Pokémon, I need to explain to you that Ash is just a kid on a quest to make friends and catch Pokémon. Stop trying to make “be a hero’ happen. It’s never gonna happen! The song itself is back into generic land but that singer going ham on “heeeeROOOOO” did make me smile. It’s total butt rock and I’m here for it. As much as the hero thing doesn’t fit Pokémon the visuals of the opening do sell that FEELING and that deserves some points.

Pokémon the Series: XYZ

‘Stand Tall’

Stadium rock for a Pokémon opening? I’m kinda here for it! If Ash was a wrestler I could easily imagine this as his entrance theme. It certainly stands out from previous openings, even though it doesn’t utilize its 30 seconds well enough. Ash seemingly tapping his feet to the beat is glorious, even if the rest of the visuals aren’t well timed to the song.

Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon

‘Under The Alolan Sun’

I. Love. This. Opening. It’s the second best Pokémon opening, just behind the original. It’s so fun! It matches the slice of life comedy vibe that Sun & Moon did so well. More than that it feels inviting in a way so many of these themes haven’t been. The original theme made you excited to go on a journey but this one makes you want to live on the island with these characters!It’s that shot of everyone dancing alongside their Pokémon that does it. How can you not groove along and smile with that? Then we’ve got those crossfade shots of everyone with their Pokémon that takes it over the top. This is how you start a new era of Pokémon!

Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon – Ultra Adventures

​​‘Under The Alolan Moon’

A new genre for these openings, which I’m all for, but the problem is that it feels like the song is ramping up to the big chorus but before it can get there the song just ends. The beat is fine but after the fun of the ‘Under The Alolan Sun’ opening this pales in comparison.

 Pokémon the Series: Sun & Moon – Ultra Legends

‘The Challenge of Life’

The drums make this song! It feels big yet keeps the fun of the first Sun & Moon opening. It even sneaks in some of the grand feeling that only the Pokémon world has. I can’t say this is a song I’d put on repeat on its own but it sets the tone for the series pretty damn well. Plus that shot of Ash jumping into the water at the top is just damn cool.

Pokémon Journeys: The Series

‘The Journey Starts Today’

Pokémon, but what if it was sung by Imagine Dragons? The first half is bland but once we hit those “Whoaoaoaoa” I can’t help but want to clap along. It’s not a memorable opening by any means but as a kid I can imagine getting into it. That tracking shot that starts with Pikachu helps a lot.

Pokémon Master Journeys: The Series

‘Journey to Your Heart’

That guitar riff! Holy hell, this song does not mess around with its 30 seconds. A powerful hook, rockin’ beat, and engaging lyrics. Look, “journey to your heart” is kind of a meaningless phrase but damn if it doesn’t get you pumped! It’s so anime. It’s so Pokémon!

The editing of the opening visuals matches the song. We start with a calm shot of the team looking over a cliff at sunset but then as the drums kick in we get that jeep flying into the air! Majesty, action, and not too long after we’ve got Ash dancing! It’s so cute and it matches the song!

Conclusion

I’m glad we could end this look back through the Pokémon openings on such a high note. The Diamond & Pearl through Black & White era was easily the roughest but the last few series have managed to get back some of that original Pokémon theme song glory. I’d be lying though if I said any theme managed to stand up to the original though. They knocked it outta the park from the jump. I can only imagine how intimidating it is for any band to come in and try and add to the Pokémon legacy after that, especially with it now being watched by many corporate overlords. It’s honestly a bit of a miracle we could get something as good as ‘Under The Alolan Sun’ from a franchise as big as Pokémon. 

Still, anytime a new Pokémon theme drops I always give it a listen. The ones that manage to capture the magic of Pokémon are some of the most special and fun opening themes out there.

Also if anyone from the  Pokémon music office is reading, please release a full three-minute version of ‘Under The Alolan Sun.’ The world needs it!

The post ​​​​Pokémon: The Evolution of the Dub Opening Themes appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[desdemonafictional]

You’re Prettier in Pieces

or, Devi the Homicidal Maniac

JTHM : role reversal

part two on Ao3

Warning for pretty explicit and intimate violence

Devi buys groceries. She’s new to the neighborhood, it’s not a good neighborhood but at least it’s a self-absorbed suburban kind of poverty rather than the desperate meanness of the apartments she’s occupied thus far in her adult life. Her new house is the only thing she can afford with her savings, and it’s a rat’s nest to be quite frank. She buys Lysol and bactine and rags and thinks of all its old corners and how tired her elbows are going to be by tomorrow, and ignores the cashier’s advances with gritted teeth. She doesn’t think she is going to make this place a home. She’s too tired for anything that sentimental. She just wants it to be livable.

Devi does not sleep well. She moves her bed from one end of the room to the other, which does nothing. She buys soothing CDs and chamomile tea, both of which she hates. She boards up the bedroom windows. And then, because it’s so satisfying, she boards up the rest of the windows too. She still does not sleep.

Her new house has a basement, which she uses to store her easels and canvases. There are rats in the darkness. She is not afraid of rats, but she doesn’t like them either. She lays out rat traps under the old furniture and sheets and she waits, and she waits, and. The traps gather dust. The cheese goes hard and green. Devi stands in the midst of the mess, tapping her foot on the sagging floor, and hears even now the rustling in the walls. Her traps lie where she left them.

When the thug in the alley backs her up against a corner, Devi does what she learned to do in art school and lashes out, slams the heel of her palm up into his nostrils and crushes his face. She can feel the cartilage crunching against the blow, bone shattering, sinuses collapsing - the whole thing caves like old fruit, and she’s left heaving with the aftermath of adrenaline as he gurgles and twitches on the pavement. She watches his eyes roll back into her head and she thinks - should I be strong enough to do that?

Devi paints, and she paints, and when she runs out of canvas she just tears bookshelves from the walls and starts painting there, desperate to drain the thing in her head into paint. There is a trap door in her basement floor. She descends into the darkness like Hecate carrying her torch into the underworld, flashlight squeezed tight in her hand.

Devi doesn’t know how to be quiet and keep her head down. When the world pushes on her, she pushes back.

Devi covers the walls in grappling monsters and childhood nightmares, working through the night and into the indistinguishable day, closed inside of her boarded windows and buried underneath the earth. She hasn’t taken a job in weeks. Maybe more. She forgets to pay the electricity but the lights stay on, she forgets to pay the water but the water keeps coming. She buys cheap food. She’s never eaten much.

Devi wrenches her sticky fist free of a stranger’s eye socket and stands, wobbling, under the light of the Seven-Eleven fluorescents. Fluid drips down her knuckles. Did she do that?

Tenna runs into her as she’s picking up a new work shirt from the mall, and she’s a whirl of enthusiasm as she leads Devi over to the slushie kiosk and buys her a drink and berates her for never answering her phone, honestly Devi I know you get tunnel vision when you’re working but you couldn’t spare one minute for your old pal Tenna? Devi doesn’t know what to say - she can’t remember the last time she heard the phone ring. It’s been six months, Tenna says, a hint of accusation finally slipping through her forced cheer, I was starting to think you died or something.

Devi watches the man who just cooked her dinner claw at his own neck, eyes bulging. The trachea is collapsed. No matter how hard he sucks there’s no air getting through that ruined pipe. The skin blooms red and purple in the shape of her fingers. He claws madly, tearing himself open, and Devi imagines that she can see the red and purple veins tearing underneath his greedy fingers. He should have kept his hands to himself. She wipes her hand on her thigh and pops another shrimp puff into her mouth.

Devi meets a guy at the art store on her side of town, the new cashier, sharp like a knife in every sense of the metaphor, from his cutting cheekbones to his gloved fingers to his dry, relentless commentary. He says it’s the only job he can get with half an art degree. He throws in a couple texture sponges for free and tells her that when he burns this place to the ground he’ll be sure to grab a box of copics for her.

Devi observes a moving truck through a crack in the slatted window. Neighbors. Nothing good comes of neighbors. Walking around on her lawn, trying to look in her windows. Watching her house. Nothing good.

Devi pushes her hair off her sweat-slicked forehead, smearing tacky blood all over herself. When did her hair get this long? She pauses in the middle of wrenching a man’s teeth out of his jaw and goes to find some scissors, she knows she has some scissors, maybe she left them with the barista in the other room.

The basement only seems to go deeper and deeper. Each time she searches for a trap door  she finds one, stairs and endless stairs, deep enough into the earth that she cannot help but know that she is lost in the stomach of some primeval behemoth, some gravedirt angler fish, navigating its hungry intestines. Devi looks up from her work to find that she no longer knows how she came to live here.

in the afternoon sunshine, Devi offers the husband a glass of lemonade with dust all muddied down at the bottom. His wife sags listless against the moving truck, glassy eyes and withered limbs. Nothing good comes of neighbors. Even now her skin is crawling at the thought of them watching her, monitoring her, with their inscrutable human desires. The husband is bent over the trunk of their car, scrounging in the junk for the CD he says would have made him a rock star if it wasn’t for the little snot, and Devi is reaching out for his neck, for the column of vertebrae that will snap like a wishbone under her hand - when the kid wanders out of the house. Their eyes meet. He has these big watery eyes, these little-red-riding-hood eyes, clutching his teddy bear to his tiny chest. For a half second the two of them freeze in place, watching each other. She can almost hear his heart slamming frantic against his ribs. His huge watery eyes are reflecting her nightmare shape back at her, the monster that will haunt his sleep for weeks after this moment is over, the inhuman inscrutable thing that holds his life in her paint-stained palms. Slowly, she lowers her hand. Not today, she decides. Another day, perhaps.

When the paintings start to talk back to her, Devi only talks over them.

The walls are a rotting fresco of brains and oil paint, and she cannot stop adding to them. She cannot stop. She doesn’t know why, but it’s imperative - it’s dire - that she not stop. It isn’t finished, she tells herself. I’ve just got to finish it.

They sit on his car on the cliff over the city and watch the stars through the smog, a purple and white world rendered clean and lovely in the darkness. It all looks so beautiful from up here, she says, her hands warm against the rust-spotted metal. He frowns up at the sky, dark circled eyes and bitter thin lips. A beautiful lie, he says. A concrete blemish.

Devi waits for him to let her down, like all the others. She waits, and she waits, and she waits.

I’m glad I asked you, she says, and she leans in. She leans in to meet him half way with his parted lips and his wide eyes, and - he pulls away, ducking down into the cage of his skinny arms, breathing hard. I’m sorry, he says, I’m sorry, you’re so - relentlessly magnificent and I’m just - I -

The walls are whispering to her, all the painted white mouths and fresco teeth in a hissing chorus, telling her how sweet he is, how naïve, how precious. Your work, the walls hiss, think of your work. How will you work with this sweet lovely thing distracting you? Dragging you away from the house? Taking you away from your work?

Devi watches her own knuckles bend and crack as if they belong to someone else.

Kill him, the walls whisper, kill him like the others. They’re all prettier in pieces.

The glass in the mirror shatters as his head cracks into it, a fracture that blinks back at her with a menagerie of endless eyes, her own eyes. She can feel his pulse in her hand, the wild rabbit thump. She could break him with a twitch, all his hollow bird bones and razor edges. She never holds them like this, this closely, never long enough to hear their rabbit fast hearts in her palm.

I could keep him, she thinks. I could keep him. Just until he disappoints me.

He licks his lips, nervous tick, and he says, So you - you weren’t joking about the murder stuff I guess. His hand trembles, but it settles over her wrist, just lightly enough that she almost can’t feel it. You should know this isn’t necessarily a deal breaker. For me.

The walls howl. They seem to throb all around her, stretching and writhing, reaching for her. Devi hooks her fingers inside of his mouth to hold it open and silent, watching the thick heave of his throat from the inside as he swallows. She could break him. She could keep him. She could tear him open.

Devi is a screaming manic ragged collection of compulsions, the trigger and the finger itching on the trigger, and the only thing left of her now is her want and her resentment. She hunches her back against the howling of the walls. Let them howl! She knows what she wants! She’ll have what she wants and this thing that suckers at her fingers and screams for her attention can eat its gruesome oily heart out. 

Devi looks down at the hand on her wrist, the bony fingers, fraying gloves. The pale knuckles almost look swollen against the spun-glass thinness of the bones.

They all look prettier in pieces. Bite sized. Manageable. Johnny has been sweet so far, but even he is ugly up close, a collection of blemishes held together with string. The difference is only that his ugly interests her. Endears her. Why can’t people be like paintings? Malleable? Perfectible? There is only the work and there is only the work and so she’ll keep him. She’ll keep him.

The knuckles first, she decides. The knuckles first, and then the eyes. 

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 10 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter ten 

~|Emily Fox|~

I see Charlie again on Thursday and Friday. He sorts the invoices since he’s the pro at deciphering Ash’s handwriting while I clean up anything that’s askew and sweep the floor. We steal glances every now and again, but neither of us says anything. We just smile at each other, knowing exactly what we want to do, but not daring to do so. Maybe for now, the knowing is enough. On Saturday evening, he brings the boys with him, just as he promised on Wednesday. It’s an hour before closing time, so they have to keep themselves busy while I handle the very last few customers. Which they do by keeping their eyes on me and laughing at my customer-service-tactics. Balling up the fists, the fake laughs, the straining against the eyeroll. “There you go,” I say to a middle-aged man, shopping with his son for some essentials for his guitar. “Have a nice day. Bye!” My smile immediately vanishes as soon as the customers have turned their backs to me, which sends the boys into a laughing fit. Now I don’t hold back rolling my eyes. “Can you guys not? A girl’s working!” They immediately shut up, trying to keep straight faces. “You might want to tell her the same,” Jeremy says, pointing to the guitar section where a young girl is reaching for a guitar that’s way too high up for her, meaning she’ll probably drop it from five foot high. “Don’t touch the instruments without supervision!” I yell, causing the girl to turn her head. Her eyes widen, like a deer in headlights. When I approach her, I recognize her as Kayla. The girl who’d asked me for piano lessons. “Oh, hey Kayla!” I greet with a smile. “Changing instruments?” I reach for the one she wanted. “Yeah, he said he was going to teach me,” she points at Jeremy who’s now the one that looks like a deer caught in headlights. I raise my eyebrow at him while he slowly collapses in shame. “Jeremy, really? This is a fourteen-year-old girl!” He now raises his hands, going for the defense. “It was meant to be purely professional!” “Nothing is ever professional with you,” Charlie chimes in, agreeing with me. I glance at him, and we exchange smiles, the ones we’ve been sharing for an entire week now. “Kayla, sweetie,” I turn back to the young girl when I’ve recomposed myself, “Don’t take guitar lessons from complete strangers. Especially not when they’re named Jeremy Shada, okay?” Kayla nods her head ferociously and leaves the shop at once. “A fourteen-year-old, Jere? Really?” Owen asks now that the little girl’s gone. “You guys are acting as if I’d do something bad to her. I swear I was going to teach her how to play the guitar,” his bandmates stare at him with raised eyebrows. “And I didn’t know she was only fourteen…” The words come out in just above a whisper. I shake my head at the boys and then check my watch. Closing time. Perfect. I walk over to the door and turn the little board at the window. “So, Emily…” Owen starts as the three boys hop off the piano they’d been sitting on. “When are you going to join our band?” I instantly glare at Charlie, telling him off for telling them. “I didn’t say anything, I promise,” he says, hands up. “Say what?” Jeremy wants to know. I take a deep breath and let it out into a sigh. “That’s she’s thinking about joining the band,” Charlie admits. The boys erupt into cheers, and Jeremy even wraps me up into a hug, almost the same way Charlie did earlier this week. Only less “I want to kiss you” vibes. “I’m thinking about it. Don’t get your hopes up,” I warn them but can’t help smiling either. It warms my heart to see how excited they are to have me in their band. “There’s one way to try and convince her,” Charlie suddenly says with a teasing smirk on his face. He walks past me and towards the electric guitars where he grabs one. “Cables?” he asks me, and I point to a wooden chest behind him where we keep all of our cables for amps and stuff. He sets up his guitar, tunes it a little, then plays a sick riff I’d heard before. I go to grab all the other equipment from the back, three microphones and stands for each of them, while Jeremy grabs a bass and Owen takes a seat behind the displayed drums. They help me set up the microphones and they’re good to go. Charlie plays the riff again, then Owen counts them in and they’re off singing Now or Never again. I watch them while I start cleaning up what’s left to clean up. I sing along every now and then when I remember the lyrics from the Open Mic Night. By the time they hit the bridge, I’m sweeping near Jeremy, and decide to surprise the boys. “We ain't searching for tomorrow,” Owen sings, and I take this as my cue to move closer to Jeremy – and his mic and sing the echo with him. “Tomorrow,” All three the boys look at me with surprise, but that doesn’t stop us. “'Cause we got all we need today,” goes Owen again. And then Jeremy and I echo together, “Today.” “Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins” Charlie sings without taking his eyes off me and without wiping that smile off his face. Jeremy now steps aside, leaving me to have my favorite line in the entire song. “We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain!” For the last chorus, all four of us begin clapping, like they did on Open Mic night. To finish it off, Jeremy, Owen and I take care of the backing vocals for Charlie.   “Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we Hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never It's now or never” The three boys pant a little after giving their all while I continue sweeping as if nothing even happened. Although, I can’t hide the smirk that’s tugging on my lips. “Wow, that girl can sing!” Jeremy compliments me with a little smile. “Emily,” Charlie’s voice beckons me to look up, “Please, join Sunset Curve?” “Still thinking about it,” I tell him, but I already know I want to. Jamming with these boys feels amazing and I’d do it forever if it wasn’t for my uncle. I need to figure out how I’m going to be okay with singing and writing music with other people. Until I do, I’m going to keep them in a little bit of agony. “Come on, Emmy?” The nickname rips my heart out, even if it’s coming from Charlie’s mouth. “Don’t call me that,” I snarl, startling him a little. I shut my eyes for a second. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s my default reaction to hearing that nickname when it’s from the wrong person. “Sorry, but please, don’t call me that. Anything but that.” I send him a knowing look, hoping that’ll say enough about the why. “Sorry…” he whispers, then wets his lips before continuing, “But Ems, we just rocked that with you. Have we really not convinced you yet?” He has that same puppy-dog-eyes look on his face. Does he know how much that has an effect on me and is he doing it on purpose, or? “Give me a week, okay? I just need to find a way to be okay with… You know…” Charlie nods his head, respecting my decision. I offer him an appreciative smile, hoping that would do. “No, I don’t know. Okay with what?” Jeremy earns a slap on the arm from Owen on that one. “Do you ever think some things aren’t your business?” The dark haired boy simply shrugs. “Hey, why don’t you guys let me hear that new song of yours? Finally Free? I heard it’s good,” I glance at Charlie for the last part, and exchange a smirk with him. He knows. We both know. “Uhm, sure?” Owen says, seemingly confused. “Version two, guys, don’t forget,” Charlie tells them just before Owen counts them in and they’re off playing the song. It sounds amazing. Such a fun song when you add the drums, bass and electric feel of the guitar rather than the acoustic guitar Charlie played it on for me. While I clean up the rest of the store, I mime the song along for as far as I still remember it, hoping the boys won’t see so I don’t have to sing along with them. What I do show them are my killer dance moves with the broom, which really does make them laugh. “That sounds awesome, you guys!” I say excitedly when they’ve finished. Charlie places his guitar on the stand, calling in a break. “I think Sunset Curve might have a hit with that one.” The boys all give me a shy smile as they all gather at the piano again, having ditched their instruments. “Now you,” it almost sounds like a dare. “Now me what?” I ask, keeping my eyes on him. “Show me your song!” The boy sounds way too excited and looks the part too. With his eyes wide and his smile nearly reaching his eyes. I glance from Charlie to Owen to Jeremy and back. “I mean, it’s not really fi—” Owen interrupts my excuse by coming up with one of his own. “Who’s hungry? I’m hungry! Jeremy, let’s get some food for all of us!” Without even asking us what we’d want for dinner, Owen grabs a hold of his best friend and yanks him towards the door and out the store, leaving Charlie and I to our devices. “Will you play it for me now?” he asks, a bit more careful than before as if not wanting to overstep anything. I swallow a nervous lump in my throat before nodding and going to grab my songbook. I place all the loose papers onto the piano and then turn to him. “Grab your guitar,” I order sweetly. The boy obeys and quickly grabs the black Fender from the wall. “Remember what you played the other day when we kind of wrote it together?” He simply nods his head before starting to play the chords he did that first day of writing together. He stands beside me, our shoulders touching, as we look at the song on paper. Then Charlie starts singing, his voice sending shivers throughout my entire body. “Step into my world Bittersweet love story about a girl Shook me to the core Voice like an angel, I've never heard before.” I take a deep breath and start singing my part of the first verse. “Here in front of me Shining so much brighter than I have ever seen Life can be so mean But when he goes I know he doesn't leave” A soft beat and a melody sounds through my mind now, intertwined with the sound of his guitar. Just as our voices intertwine too during the chorus. Like the perfect harmony. “The truth is finally breaking through Two worlds collide when I'm with you Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're” I turn to him, finding myself confident enough not to stare at the papers. “In perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” Charlie smiles down at me with the brightest smile on his face. He, too, feels confident enough to sing without looking at the lyrics. “You set me free,” he sings, not taking his eyes off me. “You and me together is more than chemistry.” Without realizing it, I take a step closer towards him. “Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands We say we're friends, we play pretend You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony” Charlie places his guitar on the piano, letting the melody and rhythm inside our minds guide us instead as we walk around the piano, each in different directions until we’re on opposite sides, looking at each other. “Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” I lean forward on the piano as I sing the first line in the bridge. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah” Charlie walks the other half of the piano, quickly this time, until he’s reached me. “You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah” I place my hands on his chest as he inches closer. “I never knew a love so real” “So real,” Charlie echoes, pressing his forehead to mine. “We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're In perfect harmony” I step back slightly, offering him a teasing smirk more so because I’m not ready for what’s about to happen next. “Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” He takes my hand in his and pulls me towards him again. My hands find their way to his chest again while he places his on my waist. “We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create a perfect harmony” The music in our minds has stopped. All that’s left now is our panting breath and beating hearts. Tingles erupt in my body, going from my head all the way down to my toes. I know what’s going to happen and for once, my brain isn’t telling me to pull away or abort the mission. For once, it’s silent. And then Charlie kisses me, and an entire orchestra breaks up the silence in my mind. “I’m seeing fireworks!” Jeremy’s voice makes us break apart, but we don’t go too far. Just our lips disconnect. “Are you seeing fireworks?” Owen nods his head in agreement with his best friend. “Because I’m seeing all the fireworks!” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the dude is high. I shake my head at Jeremy and turn back to Charlie, who’s already looking down at me. This feels right. This feels like how it should be. All the planets aligned. Just perfectly right.

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