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theeverlastingshade · 4 years

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Favorite Albums of the 10s

25. Shaking the Habitual- The Knife

The Knife made a name for themselves with their third and most celebrated LP, Silent Shout, but it’s their fourth LP, StH, that pushed their idiosyncratic blend of electroacoustic synth-pop to the furthest, most far-flung places that they’ve gone yet. The record deals with a diverse range of topics from the surveillance state, to fracking, pollution, gender discrimination, and unchecked greed with colorful, ketamine-fused candy cotton synth work and ritualistic percussion. There are long passages of ambience like the menacing build of “A Cherry on Top” dispersed between roaring apocalyptic dance numbers like the astonishing industrial eruption “Full of Fire” and the electro-acoustic freak out “Without You My Life Would Be Boring”. With the exception of the mid-album ambient epic “Old Dreams Waiting to Be Realized” every song on StH justifies its length with consistently engrossing arrangements that sustain their momentum without compromising an ounce of their potency. Everything about the record lives up to its title, from its thematic ambitions, to the breadth of the sonics, pacing, and performances themselves. StH if the full manifestation of the darkness that was lurking beneath the surface of their music from as early as their breakout single “Heartbeats”, but thankfully the music never collapses under the weight of their thematic concerns. Their resilience remains inspiring all these years later, and if Karin and Olof never reunite for a fifth LP we couldn’t have asked for a better send off.

Essentials: “Full of Fire”, “A Tooth for an Eye”, “A Cherry on Top”

24. XXX- Danny Brown

Hip-hop grew to remarkable heights throughout the 10s, and yet there were few rappers that displayed the level of growth and consistency from record to record throughout this past decade quite like Danny Brown. The Detroit native spent the aughts hustling the mixtape circuit, finally catching a spark with 2010’s The Hybrid, his strong debut LP. But a year later Brown returned with his sophomore LP and magnum opus XXX, a twisted rap odyssey that ignited the blogs, and signaled that a new era of hip hop was beginning to emerge. XXX found Brown rapping over an assortment of wonky boom-bap instrumentals courtesy of Bruiser Brigade producer Skywalker that fused classic hip-hop, trap, baroque pop, and techno into shapes far more disorienting than the beats that the vast majority of his contemporaries were rapping over. While it was evident beforehand, XXX really cemented the notion that Brown could rap over anything. The beats here are generally extremely impressive, and there are plenty of singular stylistic touches like the slurring violin stabs of “Lie 4”, the menacing synth lurch of “Monopoly”, or the distorted brass loops of closer “30”, that really stand out, but the appeal is first and foremost Brown’s rapping. His voice alone is one of the most versatile and unpredictable instruments in hip-hop, but aside from his masterful vocal alteration, always perfectly synched to the tone of any given moment on any given song of his, he’s a naturally gifted writer, as thoughtful as he is straight up hilarious. Whether bragging about his destructive lifestyle (“Die Like a Rockstar”), describing how much he loves cunnilingus “I Will”, mourning the desolation around him “Party All the Time”, or reveling in his come-up “30”, Brown is a thoroughly engaging presence throughout the entire album. On XXX profanity and profundity march gleefully hand in hand with one another, casting Brown as one of the last decade’s most singular voices.

Essentials: “Die Like a Rockstar”, “Monopoly”, “30”

23. House of Sugar- Alex G

On Alex G’s latest LP, House of Sugar, his concoction of warm guitar pop and warped electronic production reached a new peak. The songs on HoS detail the misdeeds of various characters succumbing to their greed, and the vignettes that he paints are growing increasingly well-realized thanks to a continuously sharpening songwriting voice and a plethora of tasteful pitch-shifted vocals that help imbue his characters with color and personality. HoS opener “Walk Away” provides a reasonably sonic barometer for what’s to come before dropping us into a series of the most immediate pop songs that he’s ever penned. “Hope” and “Southern Sky” are nimble acoustic guitar pop songs that are almost disarming in their immediacy, and framed around references to the real life death of a friend of his due to opioids and a dream he had, respectively. By the time we reach acoustic guitar and sitar-drone of “Taking” the pitch-shifted vocals are at the forefront of the music and HoS shifts gears into its abstract middle section which owes a lot to the new-age beat deconstruction of avant-garde electronic producers, specifically Oneohtrix Point Never. On the instrumental “Sugar”, a sublime concoction of pitch-warped whispers, dissonant strings arpeggios, and creeping acoustic guitar plucks, HoS reaches the depths of its depravity. The next song, “In My Arms”, leads us to the suite of sublime acoustic reveries that close HoS, arguably peaking with the gorgeous acoustic love ballad “Cow”. The dramatic sonic left-turn that HoS takes midway through may leave some new listeners a little cold, but for most Alex G fans nothing about the eclecticism of HoS should come as a surprise. Nor should the overwhelming quality of the songs here. From Alex G’s debut, Race, in 2010 up through HoS, he released a remarkable catalog of some of the most eclectic, and vital indie rock of the century, and I have no reason to believe he won’t top HoS at some point.

Essentials: “Gretel”, “Sugar”, “Walk Away”

22. Sea When Absent- A Sunny Day in Glasgow

A Sunny Day in Glasgow may be one of the 21st century’s most underrated bands, but not even Pitchfork could resist the coveted BNM tag when it came time to review their fourth and strongest LP, Sea When Absent. Building off of their first three idiosyncratic LPs that superbly fused electronic pop with shoegaze and dream pop, A Sunny Day in Glasgow moved into decidedly more psychedelic territory with their fourth LP while still retaining the sharp melodic sensibility of those first three. Much of the shift is easy to credit to vocalist Jen Goma who joined the group on their third LP, Autumn Again, and here her soaring vocals deliver rich melodies that are more fleshed out and focused than anything on their past releases. SWA sidesteps the kaleidoscopic sprawl of their 22 song sophomore LP, Ashes Grammar, and instead delivers 11 tight, stargazing pop songs. Whereas on the prior records it more often than not felt like the band were throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck (with primarily successful results) on SWA the band commit more thoroughly to their ideas, writing songs that are well within their wheelhouse but have never been so well-realized. “Byebye, Big Ocean (The End)” and “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)” erupt with a wall of dazzling distorted guitars that slowly build into engrossing melodic payoffs while “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))” and “The Body, It Bends” are sublime, soft spoken breathers that put a premium on texture and melody, and are among A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s most impressive songs yet. Even seemingly inconsequential moments like the “Double Dutch” interlude positively radiant with melodic warmth and joyous energy. Their strain of sun-kissed, jubilant dream pop tonally stands in stark contrast to much of the pop that’s dominated the airwaves this past decade, but their temperament doesn’t sound naïve so much as defiant. They have yet to follow up SWA with another LP, and I can’t blame them if they feel like they’ve said everything that they have to say with SWA.

Essentials: “The Body, It Bends”, “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))”, “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)”

21. Strange Mercy- St. Vincent

Annie Clark has spent the past decade releasing music under her St. Vincent moniker, collaborating with the likes of David Byrne, producing for Sleater-Kinney, and appearing on the sketch comedy Portlandia. Although she began her solo career in earnest with her strong 2008 debut, Marry Me, in 2011 Clark released Strange Mercy, her third, and strongest record to date. Produced by John Congleton, SM is a compelling fusion of art rock/and chamber pop that often lands with a jarring, visceral impact, but is still imbued with a sense of grace that heightens the sentiments of her bewitching songwriting. Her first two records showcased her singular voice and tastefully, ornate baroque arrangements, but on SM Clark begins to let loose and lean into her virtuosic guitar playing. Songs like “Cruel” and “Northern Light” are propelled by her nimble riffs caked in distortion while strings rise and fall in a satisfying sweep all around her triumphant vocals. “Surgeon” brings the pace down to a crawl and gets a tone of mileage out of sensuous synth arrangements as Clark sings softly of depression and carnal desire “Stay in just to get along/Turn off the TV, wade in bed/A blue and a red/A little something to get along” before the song erupts into a furious storm of guitar distortion. The balance between fury and serenity animate the record from start to finish, and Clark seamlessly toggles these impulses from start to finish. On the title track, over a lumbering tom/kick drum rhythm, the incessant ping of a synth, and bluesy guitar licks Clark brilliantly sums up the record’s theme with a scene of police brutality “If I ever meet that dirty policeman that roughed you up/No, I, I don’t know what” that depicts the contraction inherent in the way justice is carried out by police in the west, and the way those contradictions bleed through to our understanding of morality on the whole. SM is a record full of these sorts of messy contradictions, and the music constantly reflected that perpetual sense of disarray with songs as colorful and chaotic as they were controlled.

Essentials: “Northern Lights”, “Surgeon”, “Strange Mercy”

20. A Moon Shaped Pool- Radiohead

Radiohead’s eighth LP, 2011’s solid but unremarkable King of Limbs seemed to cement the notion that while Radiohead may not have another game changer left in them, they were probably weren’t ever going to make a bad record. And with all of their various solo pursuits it seemed plausible that we may never get another Radiohead record, as underwhelming as capping off a career as thrilling as theirs with KoL would have been. Thankfully things didn’t pan out that way, and in 2016 Radiohead released their ninth LP, A Moon Shaped Pool; the platonic ideal of a master stroke from a legacy act. The album is partially composed of older songs re-worked into new forms, such as the tense string onslaught of opener “Burn the Witch” while a few of the newer songs like the gorgeous, ambient “Daydreaming” are string-laden compositions that are as eerie as they are radiant. For a band that’s been prophesizing the increasingly dismal state of the world that we now find ourselves in for the past several decades, they sound increasingly comfortable with their position in the world, and there’s no question that they’re in full command of their craft here. The production is sublime throughout the entire record, with a sense of encroaching doom bubbling just beneath the surface juxtaposed against rich baroque instrumentation. AMSP is the Radiohead album most informed by Johnny Greenwood’s work scoring films like There Will Be Blood and Phantom Thread, and as a result there’s a remarkable sense of immersion at work even for a Radiohead album.

So while there are some recognizable forms from records past, such as the brass-lead krautrock strut of “Ful Stop”, or the twitchy IDM drum work of “Identikit”, the spectral production heightens the potency of everything here. The compositions on AMSP are the most elegant, and nuanced of Radiohead’s to date, and Yorke’s voice continues to age superbly. Yorke’s lyrics touch on familiar topics, more relevant now than ever, such as climate change on “The Numbers” “The numbers don’t decide/The system is a lie/A river running dry/The wings of butterflies” the dangers of unchecked authority on “Burn the Witch” “Abandon all reason/Avoid all contact/Do not react/Shoot the messengers/This is a low-flying panic attack” and the broader, horrific realities of the world that we live in on “Ful Stop” “Why should I be good if you’re not?/This is a foul tasting medicine/A foul tasting medicine/To be trapped in your ful-stop”. What’s more unexpected are songs like the graceful string-led “Glass Eyes” and the devastating ambient closer “True Love Waits”, two songs that are poignant tributes to Yorke’s ex-wife, Rachel Owen, who passed away from cancer in late 2016. AMSP isn’t just a spectacular late-career gem that would make a superb swan song; it’s also the most human record that Radiohead have made yet.

Essentials: “True Love Waits”, “Daydreaming”, “Ful Stop”

19. Eye Contact- Gang Gang Dance

Few bands set the tone for the kind of cross-culture hybridization that would become the sonic norm for music throughout this decade quite like Gang Gang Dance. Throughout the early aughts they cut their teeth in the Brooklyn noise scene alongside bands like Animal Collective, Black Dice, and Exceptor blending noise, experimental rock, and worldbeat into blistering, unconventional shapes. As the years progressed Gang Gang Dance gradually began to open up their sound, folding elements of hip-hop, dance music, and psychedelic pop into a colorful concoction of rhythmically robust, delightfully manic pop music that was just as forward-thinking as it was infectious. The shift really began on their criminally underrated 2005 LP, God’s Money, but began notably on their terrific 2008 LP, Saint Dymphna. On the follow-up to SD, their remarkable fifth LP, Eye Contact, the sound of Gang Gang Dance crystallized into something more immediate and far-ranging than anything that they had done prior (or since so far). On EC, everything that the band had attempted throughout the course of their career (tribal rhythms, eastern melodies, shards of refracted noise) was gloriously combined into a hyper-saturated tapestry of progressive future pop. EC is the peak of Gang Gang Dance’s prior decade of sonic exploration, and nearly a decade later there’s still nothing that sounds anything like it.

Beginning with the astonishing slow-burn intro of “Glass Jar” that finds the band patiently building up what begins as a pent up ambient composition toward something more volatile that eventually rips open midway through, spilling into a calamitous, euphoric release into the song’s second half, EC is bursting with joyous energy and possibility. The melodies are some of the sharpest, and most direct that vocalist Lizzi Bougatsos has ever penned, providing a warm immediacy that cuts through even the most outre arrangements here, and they continually expand into shapes as the songs continue to progress. “Adult Goth” and “MindKilla” are bolstered considerably by Lizzi’s dynamic vocal performances, and the off-kilter, spellbinding synth arrangements of the band’s keyboardist Brian DeGraw, while “Romance Layers” provides an ideal mid-album psychedelic breather.. And on the album’s closer, “Thru and Thru”, the band deliver a send-off that succinctly sums up a prior decade’s worth of experimentation into a nearly six-minute song overflowing with eastern melodies, mesmerizing chants, and infectious tribal rhythms that congeal into a sound that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else. Although they’ve only graced us with the somewhat underwhelming 2018 record Kazuashita since, when Gang Gang Dance are firing on all cylinders, as they are on all of EC, there’s simply nothing like it.

Essentials: “Glass Jar”, “Adult Goth”, “Thru and Thru”

18. Shields- Grizzly Bear

Although the zeitgeist was already beginning to dramatically shift by the time that Grizzly Bear released their fourth LP, Shields, guaranteeing that it wouldn’t have the same immediate impact that they enjoyed with its predecessor, their 2009 breakout LP, Veckatimest, they still ended up releasing their magnum opus. Compared to Veckatimest’s approachable folk-pop leanings there are moments on Shields that sound downright prog, but the band never let these intricate baroque pop/psychedelic folk arrangements get away from themselves or compromise the remarkable melodic instincts that were undeniable on their terrific sophomore LP, Yellow House. The ten songs throughout Shields are perfectly paced, and there isn’t a single moment that overstays its welcome, but they each develop just as much as they need to. The band’s primary songwriters, Edward Droste and Daniel Rossen, were each peaking as singular songwriters in their own respective rights on Shields, and they both deliver a handful of the band’s strongest songs to date. Droste’s songs tend to creep in ethereal waltzes with delicate baroque instrumentation (“gun-shy”, “A Simple Answer”) unfolding patiently while sustaining a remarkable sense of tension while Rossen’s are jaunty folk rippers that unfurl in unpredictable, and thrilling cacophonies that still retain the grace that the ornate instrumentation demands (“Yet Again”, “Speak in Rounds”) but unfurl in far more complex structures than those on Veckatimest.

Grizzly Bear’s progression from Droste’s cozy lo-fi folk bedroom project to a knotty baroque folk juggernaut was one of the most quietly satisfying of any band from the past decade, and on Shields they hit a gorgeous peak. While Droste and Rossen had peaked as songwriters here, their contributions never overshadowed those of Chris Taylor or Chris Bear, and the chemistry on Shields is sharper than most bands ever come close to achieving. It’s easy to get lost admiring the sheer craft of their meticulous arrangements, crisp production, provoking but elusive songwriting, and the sharp interplay between Droste and Rossen each on their own individual merit, but on Shields everything that previously stood out about their artistry is amplified, and congealed in a way that’s approachable yet inimitable. On Shields Grizzly Bear umped the ante from Veckatimest on both fronts, and proved that they could grow more immediate and melodic while still dazzling with rich compositional complexity. Grizzly Bear followed it up with Painted Ruins in 2017, that while a perfectly good record in its own right is nowhere as cohesive, and most unfortunately, patient. And to be honest, I haven’t heard a baroque folk record released since Shields that’s as consistently engrossing, or one performed with such remarkable execution. Shields isn’t their most immediate, but it best distills their singular essence, and its generosity knows no bounds.

Essentials: “gun-shy”, “Yet Again”, “The Hunt”

17. The Money Store- Death Grips

Anyone from future generations looking to hear a band that’s most emblematic of the 10s as a full decade probably couldn’t do better than Death Grips. The trio consisting of vocalist MC Ride, keyboardist/producer Flatlander, and drummer Zach Hill released their abrasive Ex-military tape in 2011, and right out of the gates the trio had a fully-formed sound that plucked unapologetically from west coast hip-hop, industrial, hardcore, and noise. Although far from the first band to draw equally upon genres like these, Death Grips stood out immediately thanks in no small part to MC Ride, who has since proved to be one of the last decade’s most compelling frontmen. His lyrics are cryptic, and intelligent yet visceral, with a deceptively wry edge. Although there’s quite a bit of variety to his delivery, it’s always propelled forth with an overwhelming intensity that can take some time to become accustomed to. Ex-military was received rapturously by critics and bloggers, but as exciting as group like them may have seemed at the time it would have been hard to predict any kind of real longevity for them. And their unrelentingly antagonistic streak (leaking No Love Deep Web, putting a picture of Zach Hill’s dick on the cover of said album, skipping performances or just playing recorded music instead of performing, trolling fans, faking a breakup) would have decimated the momentum of almost any other band, but Death Grips feed on this sort of chaos like a troupe of anarchist vampires. Their arc from Ex-military to 2018’s Year of the Snitch is one of the most rewarding streaks of any act throughout the 10s, and while most of these records are great, there isn’t one that better distills their essence than their 2012 debut LP, The Money Store.

While Ex-military presented them as an admittedly idiosyncratic, yet undeniable product of their environment, TMS blew their sound wide open proving that they had range far beyond sounds of their native state. Right from the bass arpeggios that jolt opener “Get Got” to life, it’s clear the fidelity has improved considerably, but they haven’t compromised an ounce of their fury. This still scans as music custom-tailored for little other than violently thrashing your limbs, and little else from the past decade as been anywhere near as effective at distilling that aesthetic so neatly across the run of a single record. But on TMS Death Grips were still writing actual songs, with memorable hooks, sticky melodies, and conventional structures that served to heighten the potency of their tantrums. Songs like “I’ve Seen Footage” and “Hacker” are shocking for how immediate and unthreatening the band sound despite MC Ride’s sour bark, while songs like “The Fever (Aye Aye)” and “The Cage” showcase early peaks for Flatlander’s immaculate, and underrated synth work. MC Ride is at his best here, whether talking shit and espousing authenticity (“Hustle Bones”), calling out doubters (“Bitch Please”), or just railing against general conformity, he delivers 13 career defining performances in neat succession. Death Grips have continued to relentlessly experiment on all their subsequent records, and while some have come close to matching the excellence of TMS, they’ve all fallen short. Thankfully, the immense exhilaration and urgency of TMS sound more potent with each successive year that we inhibit this desolate hellscape.

Essentials: “I’ve Seen Footage”, “The Fever (Aye Aye)”, “Hacker”

16. Twin Fantasy (Face to Face)- Car Seat Headrest

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that a re-recording of a devastatingly personal LP that Will Toledo recorded at 19, with better production, stronger arrangements, and cleaner vocals, would end up being his best record to date. What was surprising was that he decided to return to the record of his that’s most important to him, and give it the sort of justice that it deserves after having developed into a far more adept talent in the years following its release. And although I’m sure some of those songs (if not all of them) were painful to revisit, the discipline and audacity paid off enormously. Twin Fantasy centers entirely around falling in love with another man at 19, and the arc of their relationship from mourning the distance between them on the opening song “My Boy (Twin Fantasy)” to the newfound acceptance of their relationship’s dissolution on closer “Twin Fantasy (Those Boys)”, detailing the highs and lows with unabashed sincerity. While the original still holds up fairly well, there’s no question that the re-arranging, cleaner vocals, and stronger fidelity overall just heightened the potency of what was already there without diminishing any aspect of the original record. Will’s cleverness, sense of humor, and dynamism as a bandleader elevate TF beyond a melancholic teen drama into a searing document of formative growth, demonstrating craft, ingenuity, and wisdom far beyond his years. More so than any other record released throughout the last decade, TF exemplifies just how potent indie rock still is.

This new version of TF is more of a “re-imagining” of the original record than anything else, and as such the thematic scope as it initially existed, along with the exact same track listing, is held perfectly intact. The record’s two epics, those being “Beach Life-In-Death” and “Famous Prophets (Stars)” are both even longer, and benefit more so than anything else here from their new arrangements. The fidelity has been cleaned up notably, but TF is still far from overproduced, and without any fuzz obscuring a lot of the detail you can hear just how crisp, and superbly layered these arrangements are. The new-wave outlier “Nervous Young Human” practically radiates with a newfound sheen, and is handedly the most radio-ready song the band have ever written, but it still folds seamlessly into the record’s mid-section between the anthemic, distortion-fueled peaks of “Sober to Death” and the record’s mid-album power-pop stunner, “Bodys”. Toledo’s drawing from a great deal here of different sub-genres here, and he manages to land on a remarkably uniform sound that belies the myriad of intricacies at work that prevent these compositions from being crushed underneath the weight of their own ambition. The album’s greatest achievement is how deftly Will manages to tell a story about the most profound event of his life coupled with music that’s as multi-faceted as the human experience being conveyed. TF may be proudly out of step with the current cultural zeitgeist from a sonic perspective, but the sentiments conveyed throughout are sublime missives from a distinctly millennial outlook. As far as concept albums about a single relationship are concerned, Toledo has set the bar this century with TF.

Essentials: “Famous Prophets (Stars)”, “Beach Life-In-Death”, “Bodys”

15. Modern Vampires of the City- Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend have come a long way from the indie afro-pop roots of their debut to their pastoral, jam band informed fourth LP, Father of the Bride, but on their third LP, Modern Vampires of the City the band refined their sound to a sublime strain of chamber music and art pop filled with Ezra Koenig’s strongest writing to date. Whereas their first two records were entirely produced by the band’s multi-instrumentalist and not-so-secret weapon Rostam Batmanliij, on MVotC Ariel Reitscheid, a producer known for working with acts like Charli XCX, Haim, Solange, etc joined the proceedings, and there’s a lighter feel to a lot of the arrangements, but everything has more dimension overall, and the low-end really pops on a lot of these in a way that it hadn’t really before. There are plenty of welcome production choices throughout, like the sprinkling of auto-tune on “Step”, or the blistering saxophone solo on “Worship You” that do a great deal to expand the parameters of the band’s sound without ever finding them really going out of their depth. Compared to their prior records there’s a fairly vast tonal gap on MVotC, with a heightened sense of existential dread and fixations on mortality, nostalgia, and faith. It’s weighty stuff without question, and the exceptional pacing goes a long towards helping evenly pack in the melancholic, languid compositions like “Everlasting Arms” and “Don’t Lie” with infectious up-tempo numbers like “Diane Young”, “Unbelievers”, and “Finger Back” that, while far from the best of what’s here are still as immediate as anything they’ve ever released and benefit from the same immaculate arrangement, production, and writing as everything else here even if they don’t break as much new ground. But the best of what’s here are without question among the best pop songs released so this far century.

Both opener “Obvious Bycycle” and “Step” are devastating looks at nostalgia that frame Ezra’s thoughtful character sketches in rich compositions that in the case of the former consist of soft wisps of grand piano, percussion that sounds like a stamp being punched, and surprisingly visceral bass, while in the case of the latter the band opt for gorgeous harpsichord arrangements, and a swaggering bassline. But “Hannah Hunt”, which is for the record the best VW song to date, is on another level entirely. It opens like the sun after the storm with field recording of a crowd of people clearing away for delicate grand piano and the gentle rumble of bass. Ezra sings of a relationship slowly starting to break apart as a couple travels the country together “A gardener told me some plants move/But I could not believe it/’Til me and Hannah Hunt/Saw crawling vines and weeping willows”. The song slowly builds into a rousing baroque pop crescendo over roaring keys as Ezra delivers one of his most devastating lines to date “If I can’t trust you then damn it Hannah/There’s no future, there’s no answer/Though we live on the US dollar/You and me we got our own sense of time”. Rostam left VW in 2016, and although their first record without him, the aforementioned 2019 comeback LP, FotB, his absence was sorely felt. On “Hudson” it almost sounds like Rostam is singing to Ezra, under that lens especially, it’s functions as a poignant, but fitting cap to VW’s first era. As great as FotB, Rostam’s 2017 debut Half-Light, and I Had a Dream That You Were Mine, his 2016 collaboration with Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen, I hope that MVotC isn’t the last time the two of them work on a full LP together.

Essentials: “Hannah Hunt”, “Step”, “Ya Hey”

14. Channel Orange- Frank Ocean

Few albums released throughout the last decade have brought about the sort of sweeping sea change that Frank Ocean’s sublime debut LP, Channel Orange, did. Ocean’s kaleidoscopic, self-released 2011 mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra established his artistry as something far beyond that of the go-to hook ghostwriter identity he cut his teeth establishing for himself. A year and a half later, amidst signing to Def Jam, collaborating extensively with Tyler, the Creator, Kanye West, and Jay-Z, and writing a now legendary tumblr post stating that his first love was for another man a few days before releasing his immensely anticipated debut LP, Frank Ocean released that album, and decided to call it Channel Orange. Like Ocean’s music itself, the narrative surrounding his ascension feels both timeless (moving to LA after Hurricane Katrina struck his hometown of New Orleans, ghostwriting and joining Tyler, the Creator’s hip-hop collective Odd Future before releasing his own music, which drew primarily from soul, classic r&b, and funk more than anything that was on the radio at the time) and modern (sampling extensively on N,U, having a few key co-signs that seemed to unlock all the right connections, leveraging the power of the internet along with the rest of Odd Future to build and sustain a fanbase) but none of it would matter if the music didn’t live up to the hype. But all of this is particularly interesting to consider when talking about CO, especially considering that it’s the best debut LP of the 10s, and an absolute master class in songwriting.

CO is a remarkably fully-formed debut LP that finds Ocean in complete control of his craft on all fronts. The instrumentation is a lush palette of analog keys, bass, and strings, and with the exception of a few fairly stripped down ballads, shows a keen command for maximalism that never sounds overwrought. Even a song like the colossal, mid-album change-up “Pyramids”, is saved from complete indulgence after the beat seamlessly shifts into a woozy down-tempo trap instrumental with plenty of space for Ocean’s falsetto to linger in. Ocean would shift gears dramatically with the 2016 visual album, Endless, and his second studio LP, Blonde, trading in the rich, dense analog soul and r&b for a minimal psychedelic soul sound. While the production on Blonde and Endless is more impressive than that of CO, neither record was quite able to match the lush immediacy that seemed to come to Ocean so naturally here. Ocean produced the record alongside the musicians Jonathon Ikpeazu, Malay, and Om’Mas Keith who all provided additional keys, drum programming, and/or guitars. Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, the Creator, and Andre 3000 are the only guests that provide verses, and while each completely delivers, CO is Ocean’s record through and through. Regardless of whether Ocean is singing about the emptiness of privilege (“Super Rich Kids”), or depicting a tale of someone’s life falling apart due to crack addiction (“Crack Rock”) or delivering the closest thing he’ll likely ever come to a straight forward love song (“Thinkin’ Bout You”) his eye for detail, wit, intelligence, and empathy render the characters as rich, and multi-faceted regardless of what angle he’s coming at them from. The warmth and immediacy of the instrumentation and Ocean’s voice draws you in, but it’s the sheer strength of his songwriting that elevates CO from simply being another immensely promising debut to the classic that it is.

Essentials: “Crack Rock”, “Bad Religion”, “End / Golden Girl” ft. Tyler, the Creator

13. Sunbather- Deafheaven

Deafheaven were far from the first band to blend black metal, shoegaze, and post-rock, but on their stellar 2013 record Sunbather they distilled elements of these genres into a punishing, and breathtaking sound that’s unmistakably theirs. Their solid 2010 debut Roads to Judha showed tremendous promise, but their songwriting wasn’t on par with their ambitions yet. But on Sunbather, Deafheaven lived up to that early promise. Sunbather is primarily a blistering fusion of black metal drumming and shrieks engulfed in walls of shoegaze guitar that often give way to instrumental outros that shine with the radiance of Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky. George Clarke delivers the lyrics in an indecipherable shriek that either amplifies the intensity of the surrounding arrangements, or is used as a sublime juxtaposition to their fleeting moments of transcendent beauty. Sunbather is seven songs long, and superbly paced so that the band’s lengthier compositions are evenly split between songs that include a dreamy minimalist guitar/piano composition (“Irresistible”), a menacing baroque-noise march that congeals midway through into a jangly guitar conclusion (“Please Remember”), and an eerie collage of vocal samples and droning strings (“Windows”). This odd assortment of songs may seem random, but they do a nice job of breaking up the surrounding onslaught, and demonstrating the band’s range, while still adhering to the record’s searing aesthetic. It’s remarkably accessible music as far as metal is concerned, and if you can make it past the tone of Clarke’s voice there’s a lot to love about this album.

For all of Sunbather’s seemingly impenetrable harshness, there’s a great deal of beauty glistening just beneath the surface. On Sunbather, Deafheaven managed to strike a near perfect balance between beauty and chaos that, while greater heights were achieved later on, they never quite improved upon. The longer numbers here transition into moments of transcendent, cathartic beauty, and back into frenetic fury so subtly, and masterfully, that the juxtapositions quickly begin to seem less like extreme exercises in contrasting dynamics and tones so much as the fluid spectrum of Deafheaven’s multi-faceted artistry. And while the lyrics throughout Sunbather match the brutality of the corresponding arrangements, they also match their life-affirming, triumphant sense of urgency. Whether Clarke is reflecting on habitual patterns and habits that he just can’t shake “Lost in the patterns of youth/And the ghost of your aches comes back to haunt you/And the forging of change makes no difference” on “Vertigo” or ruing the alcoholism that he inherited from his father “In the hallways lit up brightly but couldn’t find myself/I laid drunk on the concrete on the day of your birth in celebration of all you were worth” on closer “The Pecan Tree”, his lyrics throughout Sunbather imbue his tortured yelps with a devastating poignancy rendered all the more morose by the band’s unflinching, formidable poise. It’s not hard to hear why Sunbather was the best reviewed album of 2013, and a game changer for black metal. Few records, metal or otherwise, have managed to convey such overwhelming emotional intensity through such ambitious composition. Its crushing beauty hasn’t lost an ounce of its potency in the years since.

Essentials: “Dream House”, “The Pecan Tree”, “Sunbather”

12. To Pimp a Butterfly- Kendrick Lamar

Kendrick Lamar caught the attention of the zeitgeist with his generation defining sophomore LP, Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, but that record’s follow-up, To Pimp a Butterfly, cemented his status as one of the definitive musical auteurs of his generation. Whereas the former record was a gripping street epic that seamlessly tucked a coming of age story into the larger fabric of a blockbuster west coast hip-hop record, the latter record blew open the history of black music and wove together a tapestry of disparate styles that congealed to express a more multi-faceted look at the black experience. The beats are composed of live instrumentation courtesy of Terrance Martin, Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, and a plethora of the west coast jazz elite, and they span the likes of jazz, r&b, soul, and funk alongside instrumental hip-hop without showing the seams. The music runs the gamut from uplifting anthems (“Alright”) to bouts of unbridled fury (“The Blacker the Berry”), and everywhere in-between, but thanks to Kendrick’s deft pacing and execution nothing sounds out of place, and there’s no mistaking these songs for the work of anyone else through sheer scope alone. Kendrick’s writing and rapping had increased considerably since GKMC, but throughout TPaB he spends less time trying to prove what a capable rapper he is, and far more time using his ability to explore the nuances of systemic racial issues through the lens of a plethora of different characters. TPaB couldn’t have possibly sounded more out of step with the zeitgeist upon its release, but in venturing beyond what hip-hop in the mid 10s sounded like, and exploring perspectives beyond those of himself, he was able to tap into something far more universally human.

Throughout the course of TPaB Kendrick tackles a wide plethora of topics with music that’s matches the breadth and scope of his thematic ambitions. The g-funk strut “King Kunta” is one of the most immediate songs in his career, and he juxtaposes the song’s infectious backdrop against verses that evoke the resilience of Kunta Kinte in the novel Roots as a through line for the jarring shift he experienced throughout his come-up after growing up in poverty. “u?” brilliantly distills the sort of tragic survivor’s guilt that Kendrick experienced in the wake of his success watching so many of his friends continue to succumb to the perils of systemic racism through harsh free-jazz arrangements, while “i” gains power within the context of the record as an uplifting neo-soul anthem of self-love after the preceding storm has subsided. The uplifting anthem “Alright” has become a canonical protest song in the wake of civil unrest as a result of excessive police brutality while the finale, “Mortal Man”, begins with some of his strongest verses to date before transitioning into a fabricated interview with 2Pac. There’s an absurd amount to unpack within the songs on TPaB, but the album never buckles under the weight of its ambition, and delivers performances that are striking at every turn. Kendrick never shies away from depicting the devastating realities throughout the history of the black American experience, but he finds reasons to persist through these tribulations in the power of community, god, and love.

Essentials: “The Blacker the Berry”, “u”, “Wesley’s Theory” ft. George Clinton

11. Lonerism- Tame Impala

On Tame Impala’s debut, Innerspeaker, the band proved adept at piecing together the finest moments from their record collections into strange, idiosyncratic new shapes, but on their sublime sophomore LP, Lonerism, they began to push their sound into the present moment. The flanged guitars, shuffling drum rhythms, and frontman Kevin Parker’s Lennon-esque falsetto are a hallmarks of classic psychedelic rock, but the spellbinding synth textures, evocative samples, and cavernous production showcase a definitively 21st century sensibility. There was no mistaking them for a pure homage act on Lonerism. With the exception of piano on a few tracks courtesy of Jay Watson, and a spoken word interlude courtesy of Melody Prochet, Lonerism was written, recorded, and produced entirely by Kevin Parker, and it helped signal a major shift from bands being the dominant artistic vehicle in indie music to the solo artist taking up that mantle. Lonerism is a perfectly paced album, and aside from a few breathers, and a few epics, it almost plays like a greatest hits set. There were signs of the disco-prog synth act that Tame Imapa developed into on a few of Lonerism’s more immediate moments, but this is still thoroughly steeped in the lineage of psychedelic rock, acid rock, and blues rock. With Lonerism, Parker began to show signs of the poptimist that he was all along, but he hadn’t yet compromised the instrumental ingenuity that he’s capable of for a strong melody, and so here you get the best of both worlds; the band’s sharpest hooks and most adventurous production. Lonerism is where Tame Impala evolved from a promising project with immense potential into one of the defining musical acts of Parker’s generation.

Lonerism is a record that completely lives up to its title as a concept record about isolation. Every song here finds Parker grappling with some aspect of self-imposed isolation set against hazy, psychedelic pop/rock instrumentation. Some songs like, the disarmingly immediate “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” spells out his anguish explicitly, with a love interest that he keeps falling for against his best judgement, while “Endors Toi” finds Parker rejecting the hardships of reality for the bliss that’s only possible when you’re literally dreaming. The lyrics rarely go deep, but on a record like this they’re entirely beside the point. Thankfully Parker’s writing works superbly within the context of the concept without detracting from the instrumentation and production. Parker wrote a few strong hooks on IS, but they were the exception, not the norm. On Lonerism, Parker’s melodic intuition had fully blossomed, and the hooks on songs like “Elephant”, “Why Won’t She Talk to Me”, and “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” were more immediate, and more memorable than anything on the top 40 at the time. The songs on Lonerism are bursting with sonic personality; whether we’re talking about the euphoric streaks of synth that send “Apocalypse Dreams” into the stratosphere, the phaser-smeared guitars and immersive samples that bring “Sun’s Coming Down” to its triumphant finale, or the propulsive drum fllls that propel “Endors Toi”, Lonerism is the most sonically rich record that Parker has ever released. Parker would achieve more audacious and unexpected heights on his superb 2015 follow-up, Currents, but he has yet to top Lonerism’s consistency, and near perfect balance between studio experimentation and pure pop craftsmanship.

Essentials: “Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control”, “Sun’s Coming Up”, “Apocalypse Dreams”

10. Flower Boy- Tyler, the Creator

Flower Boy may not have come as a surprise to those who closely followed Tyler Okonoma’s progression from the lo-fi hardcore hip-hop days of Bastard and early Odd Future through his chaotic, candy-coated third LP, Cherry Bomb, but for the casual listener it may have seemed like an unthinkable evolution. And no one could have predicted its consistency. The signs of Tyler progressing into melodic, psych-leaning neo-soul were on the wall as early as his terrific 2013 record, Wolf, but on FB his melodic sensibilities, compositional chops, and an increasingly empathetic outward writing perspective all coalesced into an idiosyncratic tapestry of vibrant sound and color unlike any hip hop record ever recorded. It’s the first time that Tyler’s chops had fully caught up with his ambition, allowing him to completely deliver on the promise of a truly genre-adverse opus that Cherry Bomb merely hinted at. The lyrics are somber, and reflective, demonstrating Tyler’s newfound sense of maturity that would have been unthinkable throughout the early OF days. The sincerity and vulnerability of the lyrics go a long way towards heightening the potency of his vibrant, melodically rich compositions. FB capitalizes on all the strange contradictions that have always been inherent in his music, while removing the adolescent excess that have bogged down each prior release. The result is a highwater mark for what hip-hop and neo-soul can sound like unbridled with concern for what music should sound like. That attention to detail and unrelenting creative spirit are what helped propel FB into being the classic record that it ended up being.

Eschewing the lo-fi Neptunes meets MF DOOM beats of his past records, Tyler landed on a perfect blend of neo-soul synths, jazz strings/horns, and drums that split the difference between classic boom-bap and mid-10s trap for FB. The music is bright and vibrant, with a wealth of detail tucked within each mix that rewards multiple listens. There are songs that are completely in Tyler’s wheelhouse, like the frantic, mid-album trap cut “I Ain’t Got Time!”, and a few like the show-stopping psychedelic soul ballad, “Garden Shed”, that dramatically expand the parameters of his sound, but they all cohere together superbly into a fully-realized kaleidoscope of sound. Even the songs like “Pothole” and “November” that seem like more run of the mill Tyler cuts showcase a renewed sense of focus and tight production that belie their simple construction. FB is a record that’s focused on unrequited love, and while themes of abandonment, disillusionment with fame, growing pains, and insecurity emerge as on past records, the bulk of the action is focused on Tyler coming to terms with both his bisexuality and the anguish of a missed connection. Rarely does heartbreak sound so unflinchingly, thrillingly alive. True to form, the music is never mopey or saccharine, but it’s always brimming with the intensity of young love. FB is the record that Tyler has always set out to make, and while I’m sure he’ll top it at some point, it currently stands at the definitive realization of his singular vision.

Essentials: “911 / Mr. Lonely” ft. Frank Ocean & Stevey Lacy, “Garden Shed” ft. Estelle, “See You Again” ft. Kali Uchis

9. Until the Quiet Comes- Flying Lotus

After Steve Ellison, aka Flying Lotus, dropped his masterful third LP, Cosmogramma, it seemed like he could take his sound anywhere, but doubling down and improving on the maximalist excess of Cosmogramma would have proved a near impossible task. Thankfully, on his stellar follow-up LP, Until the Quiet Comes, FlyLo swung all the way in the opposite direction, and despite it being the flavor of the decade minimalism rarely ended up sounding better on any other artist. UtQC is a minimalist electronic jazz/instrumental hip hop record with dreamy meditative arrangements that belie their complexity at every turn. The album is a concept record that finds FlyLo exploring the realms of human consciousness coupled with ambitious arrangements and immersive production that complements his thematic ambitions perfectly. FlyLo is still making beats in a traditional sense, but the compositions on this LP are more rich and varied than the entire discography of most producers, and the music he draws from spans the likes of ambient, psychedelia, r&b, post-rock, progressive rock, and meditative astral jazz as much as his usual instrumental hip hop, IDM, and free jazz touchstones. And so while UtQC is more insular, less immediate, and more likely to necessitate multiple listens than any other record of his, it’s the best showcase of FlyLo’s versatility, melodic intuition, and use of texture.

The compositions are short and sweet, and barely last longer than it takes for FlyLo to introduce an idea, tweak it, thwart expectations, and move on. Like on Cosmogramma, UtQC incorporates live instrumentation weaved throughout various compositions (Thundercat’s bass playing was cemented as a staple element of FlyLo’s sound here) as well as vocal features from the likes of Thundercat, Thom Yorke, Laura Darlington, and Niki Randa. The features are all utilized tastefully, and heighten the potency of the existing arrangements without detracting too much. There are songs like “All In” and “Yesterday/Corded” that just feature FlyLo alone constructing remarkable, lived-in soundscapes from his usual toolkit of drum machines, samplers, sequencers, and keys, while others like the title track and “DMT Song” that commit thoroughly to their minimalism, and coast effortlessly around strong melodies or guest vocal performances. Many of these songs retain the visceral low-end and celestial sweep of his best work, but they don’t serve to overwhelm and disorient as much as they sedate and mesmerize. “Getting There” hits the sweet spot, with and infectious, heavy-hitting low-end juxtaposed against Niki Randa’s sweeping falsetto. UtQC may not go for the jugular as FlyLo’s prior two records, but it’s just as captivating in its own quietly confident way.

And a few of the songs on the back half of the record are some of the most gorgeous that FlyLo has ever composed. The loose and dreamy “Only if You Wanna” provides a simple but sublime bridge from the drum and bass rush of “The Nightcrawler” into the droning r&b mirage with Yorke’s vocals wafting eerily through the crevices in the mix. From there the record moves into “Hunger” and “Phantasm”, two songs that skew the closest that FlyLo has ever veered toward straight up ambience, and they slowly unfurl into gorgeous, unpredictable string progressions as Niki Randa and Laura Darlington deliver understated, ethereal vocals, respectively. From there we’re led into “me Yesterday//Corded”, one of the strongest songs that FlyLo has released to date. It begins in the same somber, minor-key tone of the preceding songs before erupting into a cosmic drum and bass coda with a euphoric melody and pitch-shifted vocals. The final song, “Dream to Me” is a whirring synth and woodwind lullaby that brings everything full circle, leading us right back into the intro, “All In”. UtQC breezes by in nearly 47 minutes, but there’s another singular, self-contained universe of detail packed into this record’s spellbinding grooves.

Essentials: “yesterday//Corded”, “Electric Candyman ft. Thom Yorke”, “All In”

8. Carrie & Lowell- Sufjan Stevens

By the time that Sufjan Stevens released Carrie & Lowell he had already released several classic records and had undergone several stylistic change-ups, but nothing in his discography established the precedent for a masterwork quite like C&L. On C&L Sufjan returned to the sparse chamber folk sound of his superb fourth record, Seven Swans, but he replaced the short vignettes and character studies that peppered that record with an engrossing scope that centers around his tumultuous relationship with his late mother who suffered from substance addiction and schizophrenia. The music is hushed, and minimal, consisting of little more than finger plucked guitar, banjo, ukulele, and an assortment of strings underneath Sufjan’s tender delivery. His music has always radiated a sense of overwhelming empathy, and so when plumbing the depths of his psyche for memories of his mother the tone is often devastating and cathartic in equal measure, but never overly morose or self-pitying. With C&L Sufjan succeeded in honoring his mother’s memory as honestly and as faithfully as he could while his songwriting hit a new peak.

C&L sustains an almost overwhelming poignancy throughout its duration, but it’s never a slog. The heaviness of the sentiments never really subsides, but these songs are each filled with strong hooks, sweeping melodies, and a disarming directness that he’s never quite managed on prior records. Songs like the opening cut “Death with Dignity”, “Should Have Known Better”, and “The Only Thing” soar with warm, infectious hooks and nimble guitar arrangements alongside a few electronic and orchestral embellishments, while songs like “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross” and “Fourth of July” bring the tempo to a crawl and bask in Sufjan’s falsetto and minor-key acoustic guitar arrangements. It all comes to a head on the devastating centerpiece “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, as Sufjan depicts the self-destructive behavior he engaged in right after his mother’s death “There’s blood on that blade/Fuck me, I’m falling apart/My assassin/Like Casper the ghost/There’s no shade in the shadow of the cross” just so that he could feel closer to her.

Essentials: “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, “Death with Dignity”, “The Only Thing”

7. Some Rap Songs- Earl Sweatshirt

Earl Sweatshirt was arguably the greatest living rapper before dropping his magnum opus, Some Rap Songs, but since its release it’s become much harder to dispute. On SRS Earl runs through 15 songs in 22 minutes, delivering sometimes little more than a hook and a verse per song before transitioning into the next one. The songs operate according to their own logic, and forgo traditional song structure for a loop-based compositional approach. Earl produced the bulk of the record himself, and heavily opted for dusty, de-tuned pianos, shuffling, lo-fi percussion, and a plethora of discordant texture. Earl’s precision is remarkable, and what may initially scan as awkward or clumsy flows slowly reveal themselves to be masterfully sidestepping the rhythms entirely. But for all its challenging aspects, SRS is hardly a precious, posturing sort of record. It demands your full attention, but will reward it several times over.

The songs throughout SRS are bleak missives from a remarkable talent unpacking years of trauma. The record tackles many of the same themes of abandonment, drug abuse, and depression as his past records, but he’s cut out any lingering excess in his prose, distilling only what’s absolutely necessary into each bar. The rapping is lean, and virtuosic, but never showy, and the brevity of the songs themselves is indicative of how succinct and substantial the music there is. Songs like “Red Water” have just a single couplet that he repeats a few times as the ebb and flow of the instrumental sustains the onset momentum, while other songs like “The Mint” are closer to convention, but still unfold along unpredictable loops, and verses that zig zag in and out of the mix at irregular intervals. There are songs like “Cold Summers” and “The Bends” that are the closest that Earl comes to rapping accessibly, and there are those like “Playing Possums” and Peanuts" that owe more to tape loops, ambient, and noise music than anything resembling hip hop. SRS and it’s follow-up EP, Feet of Clay, are easily the most challenging, experimental, and divisive records that Earl has released to date, but they’re also singular masterworks that push hip hop into stranger, and more human realms.

Essentials: “Peanut”, “The Mint” ft. Navy Blue, “December 24”

6. New Bermuda- Deafheaven

After releasing their superb second LP, Sunbather, Deafheaven had become one of the most acclaimed metal bands of the century, and had achieved a level of popularity unprecedented for metal bands. Never mistaken by anyone as purists, Deafheaven began their career flirting with through lines between shoegaze, black metal, and post-rock before tastefully combining them on Sunbather. While they easily could have churned out another LP of post-rock/blackgaze of the same stripe, the band went deeper and darker, and re-emerged with their third LP, New Bermuda, the heaviest, and arguably most melodic, record of their career to date. Across five songs that collectively clock in around 46 minutes Deafheaven continue to expand their parameters of their sound, incorporating heavier tremelo guitars, incendiary blast beats, and sweeping post-rock passages that are more adventurous, expansive, and gorgeous, than what any other bands are doing today. NB may lean the furthest towards the brutality of classic black metal, but the band’s 2015 onslaught still amplifies an immense feeling of transcendence alongside the terror.

Opener “Brought to the Water” rustles to life with the ominous sway of church bells before its lead guitar riff kicks into gear, foreshadowing the premium they place on atmosphere with foreboding timbres. Throughout the next several minutes the band continue to build a scorched earth black metal composition bristling with distortion and rapid fire drumming that eventually slyly segues into a sugary breakdown reminiscent of “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer. It’s disarming, and unprecedented, but a perfectly logical evolution of their sound that reaffirms their status as the most versatile band at the vanguard of contemporary black metal. “Luna” and “Come Back” are two of the heaviest songs that Deafheaven have ever released, and get a ton of mileage out of their seismic guitar riffs and pummeling percussion, while “Luna” boasts one of the loveliest melodies they’ve ever penned, gliding alone a star-dusted, stratosphere-bound guitar riff. Closer “Gifts for the Earth” is a succinct culmination of the preceding 38 minutes, capped off with their most cathartic coda to date with jangly guitar and minor key piano softly swirling around Clarke’s feral shrieks. The warmth exuded beneath Clarke’s shrapnel-laced delivery posits Deafheaven as a band executing well-beyond the scope and limitations of metal.

Essentials: “Gifts for the Earth”, “Brought to the Water”, “Luna”

5. Halcyon Digest- Deerhunter

By the time that Deerhunter geared up to record their fifth LP, Halycon Digest, they already had a rich body of work behind them, but very little of their music set the kind of precedent for where they would go on HD. Here, Deerhunter tapered down their most avant-garde impulses in favor of cleaner guitar arrangements and big, bright melodies, unearthing the pop band they’ve always been at their core with poise and aplomb. The walls of guitar noise, ambient interludes, and studio effects that had defined their previous releases became relegated to marginal aspects of their song craft, and they began opening up their songs like never before. Thankfully, they didn’t dilute their sound, they just cleaned it up, and the 11 songs that make up HD are the most immediate, and richly produced (thanks to Ben Allen, who produced this record after nailing Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion a year prior) of Deerhunter’s career to date. Deerhunter’s shift towards accessibility only seemed to accentuate their inherent strangeness, and HD remains one of the most engaging and endlessly replayable indie pop records of the 21st century.

From the droning low-end thump that ignites opener “Earthquake” it’s clear something substantial has shifted. Allen’s biggest contribution was a heightened low-end that caused Josh Fauver’s bass to really pop without distracting too much from the rest of the arrangements. This extra oomph propels songs like “Don’t Cry” and “Coronado” well into infectious, anthemic territory while it helps ground more ambitious cuts like “Helicopter” and “Desire Lanes”. Frontman Bradford Cox had completely grown into his role as a charismatic, provocative frontman with the pipes and poetic disposition to back up the antics, and propel his band towards a stadium sized sound even if they would never end up touring them. Bradford’s vocal melodies on closer “…He Would Have Laughed” and centerpiece “Helicopter” are the strongest that the band ever penned, while he delivers two of his most impressive vocal performances on the lulling “Sailing” and the pensive “Earthquake”. The closer, a tribute to the late Jay Reatard, is perhaps Deerhunter’s finest moment to date, with Bradford spinning surreal couplets “I live on a farm, yeah/I never lived on a farm” around the band’s steady harpsichord pulse until the composition bursts with euphoria, and then slowly begins to fade out before cutting out abruptly. Deerhunter have never made a bad record, but HD was the last time they showed how simultaneously adventurous and immediate pop music can be.

Essentials: “He Would Have Laughed”, “Helicopter”, “Desire Lanes”

4. Black Messiah- D’Angelo & The Vanguard

In the years following D'Angelo’s spectacular second LP, Voodoo, it seemed increasingly likely that he would never release another record. But then in the twilight days of 2014 D'Angelo surprise dropped his 3rd and best LP to date, Black Messiah, with a new band supporting him called The Vanguard (which consisted of Questlove on drums, Pina Palladino on bass, Isaiah Sharkey on guitar, Roy Hargrove on horns, and a handful of other musicians). BM eschews the warm r&b/neo-soul solo singer-songwriter sound of the first two D'Angelo LPs in favor of a fiery cocktail of avant-garde soul, jazz funk, and psychedelic r&b that’s simultaneously more abrasive and experimental than anything he had done prior. D'Angelo still has a remarkably agile falsetto, but it’s been notably weathered by the years away, and it now has a grainier disposition that happens to be a much better fit for the songs throughout the record. The band’s chemistry is just remarkable, and it’s hard to believe that they weren’t all cutting records with each other for decades prior. Unlike most artists that come back with new work after a notable dry spell, D'Angelo has never sounded more human than he does on this latest LP of his. Thankfully, despite the years apart D’Angelo hasn’t lost an ounce of his remarkable talent, and brings a magnetic charisma, sublime range, and a much sharper point of view to songs that reflect the turmoil of the preceding years of unrelenting police violence, yet respond in a multitude of ways. The Vanguard prove to be an ideal backdrop for D’Angelo’s songwriting, and together they achieve a new standard for neo-soul.

Although it had been 14 years, D'Angelo’s return felt right on time in the immediate wake of the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, and plenty of others at the hands of the police. While D'Angelo’s music has never shied away from political statements, BM is by far the most explicitly political record of his career. “1000 Deaths” opens to a sample of a Khalid Abdul Muhammed speech about Jesus being black and quickly gives way to a visceral, funk rock rhythm and red-lining guitars with D'Angelo dissecting the difference between courage and cowardice “Because a coward dies a thousand times/But a soldier just dies once”. On the following track, “The Charade”, D'Angelo opts for searing soul that builds into his most anthemic melody to date while he delivers devastating imagery of the cruelty still inflicted on black people all over the world “All we wanted was a chance to talk/‘Stead we only got outlined in chalk” while “'Til It’s Done” contains D'Angelo’s finest melody to date and finds him questioning the nature of our existence and whether we’re really reckoning with the way that capitalists are destroying our planet “Perilous dissidence evening up the score/Do we even know what we’re fighting for?”. He also delivers some of his best love songs to date, including the funky mid-tempo shuffle of “Sugah Daddy”, the tender soul ballad “Betray My Heart”, and the spellbinding centerpiece “Really Love”. These songs fold neatly within the larger fabric of the record as a whole, and complement the politically charged songs without breaking the greater aesthetic. D'Angelo’s conviction is palpable throughout it all, and the newfound wisdom that he accrued in the years since Voodoo enrich the perspective that he brings to the songs in such a generous, humble way. Even if D’Angelo never releases another record we couldn’t have asked for a better swan song from him.

Essentials: “’Til It’s Done”, “The Charade”, “Really Love”

3. MBV- My Bloody Valentine

Like D'Angelo, it didn’t seem likely that My Bloody Valentine would ever follow-up their masterful second LP, but 22 years after the release of Loveless, in the dead of February 2013, MBV, the third My Bloody Valentine, finally emerged. There are 9 songs here, and they can neatly divided into three sections that find the band progressing from an extension of what they were doing in the 90s to styles never associated with them. MBV picks up right where Loveless left off, beginning with expansive suite of shoegaze songs rendered with the kind of sublime texture and tone as we’ve come to expect from the group, and slowly but surely they branch out into psychedelic pop, ambient, and pure noise, realms they’ve teased in the past but have never quite committed to prior. You can hear the band straining against their limitations, and although seeking out perfection is a fools errand, they nearly achieve it.

There’s no mistaking MBV as the work of any other band, but here they’re painting in darker, bolder hues than they’ve used in the past. Beginning with the opening song, “She Found Now”, their sound is much richer, and more forlorn, than it’s ever sounded, with thick plumes of guitar washing over wispy androgynous vocals and faint, skeletal percussion. Even as the tempos increase and the melodies begin to peak out beneath the fuzz, that wistful, melancholic tone remains. “Only Tomorrow” amps up the tempo with a driving rhythm and scorching guitars perpetually firing into the red

while “In Another Way” is a bludgeoning slice of driving noise pop with a strong melody from guitarist Belinda Butcher. “Nothing Is” coasts off the hypnotic repetition of its bludgeoning guitars for 3.5 minutes, and perfectly segues into the glorious noise piece, “Wonder 2”, which closes the record on a note of whirring guitars that approximate the overwhelming euphoria of first wave shoegaze, but takes the listener to much stranger places.

The nine songs throughout MBV strike a perfect balance between updating the shoegaze style that they perfected on loveless while wading into new territory, but it all hangs together beautifully. Kevin Shields and Belinda Butcher still harmonize on the bulk of these songs, and they’re ethereal delivery is still the perfect counterbalance for the aggression of the guitars. The searing slow-burn of “Who Sees You” is the peak of their vocal interplay, while on the midsection pop numbers like “New You” and “In Another Way” Butcher takes the reins and delivers two of the band’s strongest melodies to date over driving percussion and sleigh bells. The relative immediacy of “New You” is new sound for the band, and they completely deliver on its hypnotic pop premise. “Is This and Yes” and “Nothing Is” are the two instrumentals at the polar ends of the band’s sound that perfectly balance out the more dynamic songs, and the aforementioned noise piece “Wonder 2” complements the opening song “She Found Now” perfectly in that it’s an exploration of what My Bloody Valentine might explore more of if they ever release a fourth LP. It’s a miracle that MBV even exists in the first place, so the fact that it’s this good is just icing.

Essentials: “Only Tomorrow”, “New You”, “In Another Way”

2. Blonde- Frank Ocean

After releasing his generation defining 2012 debut Channel Orange, it was hard to say where he was going to take his music next. A cryptic series of videos in mid-August 2016 featuring Frank building a ladder led to few clues, but at the end of this week we received an audio-visual album titled Endless. Before anyone could really acclimate themselves to sleek, genre-agnostic minimalism of Endless, the proper follow-up to CO, titled Blonde, released a day later. Whereas CO was the sound of a singular talent discovering what he can do, Blonde is the sound of that talent capitalizing on those gifts with unparalleled precision. On Blonde Frank opts for a striking minimalist palette of psychedelic pop, avant-garde soul, ambient, and jazz, that are off-kilter and adventurous without sacrificing the warmth of his past work. Like CO, Blonde primarily explores themes of nostalgia, heartbreak, identify, and the nature of human perception, and here his eye for detail and attention to detail remains unmatched by any songwriter of the last decade.

From the opening song “Nikes”, Blonde presents itself as a drastic stylist departure from what Frank was doing prior. The first half is a distorted r&b dreamscape with Frank crooning in a pitch-shifted higher register, and actually has him rapping a few verses, before returning to his normal register. Blonde is filled with strange, yet tasteful stylistic touches like this, from the distorted shrieks at the end of “Ivy”, to the collapsing, pitch-shifted orchestra that gives way to an eerie children’s choir’s on “Pretty Sweet”, the album rarely shifts into anything that scans as conventional. “Pink and White” is the most straight forward moment on the album, but the verses rarely stay grounded, and soon give way to a soaring chorus that slyly tucks Beyonce’s voice into the fold before the instruments dissolve from the mix entirely. “Skyline To” and “Godspeed” flirt with ambience and put a great deal of emphasis on exploring texture and negative space, while “Close to You” is a brief, glitchy cover of Stevie Wonder’s classic that provides a terrific segue from the “Facebook Story” interlude into the record’s devastating centerpiece, White Ferrari. The record covers a remarkable amount of ground sonically, but it coheres in a way that completely belies this scope.

“Nikes” sets the tone for the record on the whole as Frank watches his friends lose themselves to the spoils of his fame and begins to recognize himself as a placeholder for a partner’s lost love. “Self-Control” depicts the story of one of Frank’s relationship’s imploding “I’ll be the boyfriend in your set dreams tonight/Noses on a rail, little virgin wears the white” set to a mesmerizing neo-soul slow-burn that unfurls a gorgeous, understated melody while “Nights” juxtaposes the highs of the come-up “Oooh nani nani/This feel like a Quaalude” with a guitar pop/boom-bap instrumental and the perils of fame with a woozy, cloud-rap adjacent second half “Shut the fuck up I don’t want to hear your conversation/Rollin” marijuana that’s a cheap vacation". The record hits its peak with the spectacular ballad, “White Ferrari”, the strongest song of his career to date. Over warm acoustic guitar provided by Alex G Frank details the permanence of the love that he’ll have for someone that he’s no longer in a relationship with “I care for you still and I will forever/That was my part of the deal, honest/We got so familiar”. The humility and humanity of the moment is heartbreaking, and speaks volumes about the depths of Frank’s artistry. Blonde set a new benchmark for avant-garde pop, and is arguably the most influential album of the past decade.

Essentials: “White Ferrari”, “Nights”, “Self-Control”

1. Cosmogramma- Flying Lotus

After breaking through with his superb sophomore LP, Los Angeles (a singular blend of IDM, trip-hip, and woozy Dilla & Madlib-esque instrumental hip-hop) it would have been easy for Flying Lotus to continue mining the same sounds for successive records that were just slight variations on that singular template. But for FlyLo’s third LP, Cosmogramma, he blew his sound wide open, eschewing the quantized beat grid for a lusher, more sprawling sound that couldn’t be confined to standard rhythms. Cosmogramma is steeped in the lineage of instrumental hip hop and IDM like its predecessor, but it manages to juggle a wider palette of disparate styles such as four on the floor, drum and bass, jungle, free-jazz, and experimental bass while incorporating a wide variety of guest musicians that do a superb job of fleshing out his expansive compositions. Cosmogramma is a record that can barely contain its ambition, and despite having been released over a decade ago it still shines like a beacon illuminating the boundless possibilities of where music can go.

The sublime fusion of the live instrumentation, supplied by Thundercat on bass, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson contributing string arrangements, and Ravi Coltrane providing tenor saxophone, among many others coupled with FlyLo’s mind-warping production is what gives the album it’s compelling thrust. The first half primarily splits the difference between frantic drum and bass/synth-pop heaters and atmospheric cosmic-jazz interludes, and the pacing is just remarkable, with no moment overstaying it’s welcome and plenty of space to give each idea the space it needs to develop. Thom Yorke drops by for a wispy vocal performance on the agile IDM strut “And the World Laughs With You” while Thundercat delivers a formal career introduction on the tender ballad “MmmHmm” before the record shifts into the infectious four on the floor centerpiece, “Do the Astral Plane”. From here the record deploys the astral jazz and eastern influences in a more pronounced fashion on songs like “German Haircut” and “Dance of the Pseudo Nymph” respectively. The celestial ambience of “Table Tennis” featuring Laura Darlington is a welcome breather for the life-affirming synth surge of closer “Galaxy in Janaki”, ending the album on a somber, but ultimately uplifting note with Flylo sampling the ventilators that his mom was hooked up to on her death bed for a euphoric, synth-streaked send-off.

The enduring appeal lies in its function as ambition existing for the sake of ambition. The songs throughout Cosmogramma all vary in texture, tempo, and tone, and they all around great on their own, but it’s the journey from start to finish that Cosmogramma exemplifies as a spiritual experience. Cosmogamma was intended to function as a loose concept album of sorts about lucid-dreaming and out of body experiences influenced by the study of the universe, heaven, and hell, and it’s remarkable to hear just how much of that vision that he’s able to convey without the prevalence of vocals. Although electronic music has changed dramatically in the decade since Cosmogramma was released, the execution of FlyLo’s masterpiece hasn’t been in matched, in electronic music or anywhere where else. Cosmogramma is both the pinnacle of where music has been, and a glimpse at the possibilities of where it could go moving forward.

Essentials: “Galaxy in Janaki”, “Do the Astral Plane”, “MmmHmm” ft. Thundercat

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dinogoofy · 4 years

Note

I'm back darling~ this time I'd love sth for Cassie & her female bestie 😁 bc the xmas is near so Imma give u these prompts: 'I’m a grown adult. I don’t want to take a picture with Santa Claus', 'Hey, want to help me get my parents off my ass about not having a date?'. Have a good day!

Had a ton of fun with this one, hope you enjoy!!!

Cassie Cage x F! Reader

Meeting the parents- I mean, meeting Santa.

----

It was a cold, quiet morning in your apartment. You were enjoying a warm cup of coffee in the early hours, a cheezy hallmark move playing on your TV as you try to work yourself into the holiday spirit. It had been a long year. Your phone dings once, but you ignore it, too focused on who was going to marry Santa. When it kept going off you finally checked it with a sigh.

Cassie-lassy

Hey

Hey, can I ask a favor?

Stop watching Christmas movies and answer me

Cassie was your best friend, but you weren't sure if you liked where this was going.

How did you even know that?

Anyway, whats up?

My parents are throwing a Christmas party this week and are hounding my ass about a date.

And?

Do u think u could pretend to be my gf, just for a day? Just to get them to leave me alone.

You almost choked on your coffee when you read the text. Damn, hallmark movie coming true? Your heart fluttered a bit. Cassie was your best friend. You didn't have feelings for her! That was ridiculous. All she needed was a... friend-to-friend favor. Plus, her dad was super rich, they were totally going to have good food.

Sure, when?

Uh, today good?

The lack of planning was exactly what you should've expected from Cassie. You laughed and drug your hands across your face, she was so lucky that you had the day off.

Bleh, ok. Ur dad better have some good food.

U bet ur ass! Pick u up at 6.

You laughed, and slowly picked yourself off the couch. You hoped that you still had an ugly sweater somewhere in your closet.

The time flew by unfortunately fast. You were rushing to gather your things as Cassie at outside in her 1965 red stingray corvette, (with a mako body) you loved that car so much. You couldn't help but geek out everytime you see it, but alas, there was definitely no time for that today. You frantically locked your apartment as you ran down the steps.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cassie laughed as you got in the car, and that awful flutter feeling returned. Oh no. This is not happening.

"Its chill, I doubt Dad will care if we're late to his party anyway." Your eye twitched, smile still wide on your face. You liked to be on time no matter where you were going, and by the look she was giving you you knew that Cassie said that just to annoy you. You rolled your eyes at her as she took off, the rumble of the car's engine instantly calming you.

Damn. You had never seen a house that big. As Cassie rolled through the big gates you continued to gawk at the beautiful architecture.

"I knew your dad was rich but, seeing how rich he is... is..."

"I know right? He moves into a new house almost every 6 months almost. Each one is bigger then the last one." You felt light headed just imagining how it must feel to have so much money. By the time Cassie parked and the two of you walked to the big doors, you could hear people loud and clear inside the house. This was way different then the tiny little Christmas reunions you were used too.

"I might throw an arm around you and call you nicknames a bit to make it seem legit, are you ok with that? I'm already asking a lot by getting you to come with me in the first place, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable." You laughed.

"Cassie it's fine, all that comes with the 'pretend girlfriend' package." She sighs in relief, knocking on the door.

"Just making sure."

The door opens after a few moments, Cassie's mother answering the door, delighted at the sight.

"Cassie you made it just in time! Your dad just got his Ninja Santa costume out of storage. You should- oh, who is this?" You shyly waved, face flushing more from the situation than the cold. You were glad you were already blushing when Cassie links her fingers through your own.

"Mom, this is my girlfriend." Her mom's face lights up, but you would be lying if you said her obvious military posture and build didn't intimidate you. You introduced yourself and shook her hand with your free hand, making sure to shake with a firm grip.

"Its great to meet you. I was wondering when Cassie was going to bring someone home." Cassie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as you awkwardly laughed. Her mom, Sonya, invited the two of you in. Your jaw almost dropped at the inside of the house.

The house was incredibly decorated. Wreaths, lights, an army of elves on the shelves, everything you could think of that spoke Christmas. A giant buffet on the right side of the room and a giant tree in the center of it all.

"Holy shit Cas," you wispered, she giggled squeezing your hand.

"I know right. They overdo it every year."

The rest party was amazing. You met many of Cassie's friends and family friends from the special forces. Kids were livey and running around the place. Even though the mansion and beautiful and intimidating, everything seemed to speak family to you. Every once in a while you would catch Cassie staring at you, but she would always wave you off, face flushing. It couldn't be an actual blush though, this was all an act, right?

"Ho ho ho, Ninja Butt-kicker Santa Claus has arrived!" A voice boomed from the center of the room. Adults laughed while children screamed with delight, booking it towards the gaint tree. Cassie sighed in embarrassment.

"I was beginning to wonder when dad would show up." You tried hard not to laugh when you dragged her to the middle of the room, catching a glimpse of her dad's "holiday spirit".

Kids hopped on his lap one by one, telling him what they want for Christmas, and (probably thanks to their parents,) each one was giving the wanted present and a fake ninja-star. You had thought every child was given a present and taken a picture, so surely he was going to "retire" for the night, right?

"Ho ho ho, Santa thinks that one, special little girl has yet to take a picture." He looked straight at Cassie and winked. She immediately recoiled.

"No. No no no. I'm a grown adult, I don't want to take a picture with Santa Claus." Everyone chuckled around the two of you. And Sonya walked over to push her into the center of the room with her dad, camera firm in her hands. Cassie sent an embarrassed look your way as she was forced to sit on Santa's lap.

"And what would you like for Christmas Cassie Cage?" Cassie looked like she wanted to melt away form her spot. Only answering because she had to.

"I don't want anything Da- Santa." Her Dad let out another Jolly, fake laugh.

"Sure you do! Santa knows everything, you know!" He hands her a small box, and winks at her.

"You know what Santa wants for Christmas? Grandkids." The crowd laughed, and your face immediately flushed a dark red, Cassie almost looking the same way. She covered her face as she hopped off her Dad's lap and speedwalked back to you without even opening the box.

The rest of the party went by so fast, and before you knew it, the two of you were walking back to her car in the cold.

"This was a ton of fun cas," She laughed, you wondered if she knew that you were still holding hands.

"Yeah, I'm glad you came with me. Sorry if my parents were a little overbearing." You shrugged, letting her know that it was fine. The silence after was unbearable. You wondered for a moment if you should ask her out. The party was nice, really nice, but it was honestly just because you were 'pretending' to be her girlfriend. You think she might've thought so too. You opened your mouth to speak, but she beat you to it.

"Hey, so, what if we made this whole... 'fake girlfriend' thing, a 'real girlfriend' thing?" You blushed, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

"I think I'd like that." Her face lit up with a smile, squeezing your hand back. She stuck her hand in her pocket, and looked surprised for a moment, stopping in her tracks to pull out the box from earlier.

"I forgot about this thing."

"Mabye you should open it?" She let go off your hand to gingerly untie the bow, taking the lid off the box and tucking it underneath it. Her face flushed.

"It's mistletoe." Your face flushed in return. So thats what he ment. Cas started to nervously mumble something, closing the lid on the box, but you held a hand over hers before she put it away.

She instantly kissed back when you leaned in to complete the tradition. The gentle moonlight kiss becoming the only Christmas miracle you needed.

You were definitely living in a hallmark movie.

#cassie cage #mk imagine #mkx mortal kombat x #mk11 ultimate #mk x reader #mortal kombat

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 4 years

Note

More sub!hoshi plz??? Maybe sth based off his solo Touch??? Just an idea, no rush sweetie❤️❤️

Thank you for the request! Touch is one of my favorite songs so I listened to it, like, a hundred times while writing this lol. Also one of my personal favorite choreographies 👀

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!hoshi, fem!dom!reader, riding, breathplay?? (He wears a collar), thigh riding, mommy kink.

Special Show

Hot damn. That had been the only thing you could think of as you saw your boyfriend performing his new single Touch. Once Hoshi had told you that he had a solo performance, you immediately made sure to free your time and watch it. You had a lazy day at work and they released you early, letting you get home before Hoshi. You immediately went to the television, getting yourself comfortable with blankets and pillows. You turned on the t.v and flipped it to the channel he was going to be on and waited patiently for his performance. While you were watching other people perform, you decided to make some instant ramen for dinner as you waited for your boyfriend to appear on screen. You chuckled to yourself as you sat back on the couch with your food, knowing if Hoshi saw your unhealthy choice of food he would have thrown a fit. You snapped your head up with a smile, setting what was left of your food on the coffee table once you heard your boyfriend's name leave the MC's lips. You were slightly surprised as the music started, realizing the song was sexual. You swear your jaw almost fell off as you saw what Hoshi was wearing.

The tight leather pants he was wearing hugged his beautiful thighs perfectly. The loose, black, silk button up he was wearing was tucked into his pants, showing off his thin waist. The shirt had the first three or so buttons undone, showing off his broad chest. He was also wearing a collar around his neck that had a ring in the center of it, which you realized would be perfect for the leash you had in your closet. His deep voice as he sang only made you squeeze your thighs together more. You bit your bottom lip as you saw Hoshi's body skillfully dance along to the music.

Your ramen sat on the coffee table, long forgotten, and for sure cold by now, as the lights dimmed on the stage, hiding your boyfriend from view. You sat completely still until the MC's voice announcing another artist to perform, snapping you out of your very lewd thoughts of your boyfriend. You reached for the remote and turned off the tv, getting up to throw away your cold bowl of ramen. When you got back to the couch, you looked at your phone to see you had received a message from Hoshi.

Hey bby!

I just finished my performance! (*˘︶˘*)

You giggled at his messages. How was it possible that he could be this cute after being a literal sex god on stage?

I know baby

I just saw it

Really?

Did you like it?? ♡✧( ु•⌄• )

Of course baby!

I always love your performances ♡3♡

Aww, you're too sweet (//▽//)

You bit your lip, thinking before smirking and sending him another message.

I was wondering…

???

Could you bring home the outfit you

were wearing tonight babyboy?

Why?

Well…

I was hoping you would give me

a more… private performance.

If you get what I'm saying.

It took Hoshi a few minutes to respond, making you more curious by the second. Then he finally sent you a picture of the lower half of his face and down, still in the outfit he had on stage. He was biting his lip and pulling down the collar of the shirt slightly, showing off his collarbones. You bit your lip as you thought about leaving marks all over him.

I told them I would just get changed

at home cause I was too tired.

I'll be home soon mommy ❤

You smirked and set your phone down, going back in your bedroom to retrieve the leash. You moved the coffee table out of the way, deciding you wouldn't be able to wait to get to the bedroom. You draped the leash over the arm of the couch. After waiting a few minutes, you heard the sound of the door opening. You immediately sprung up from the couch, meeting your boyfriend by the door as he finished taking off his shoes. He whimpered when you slammed him against the door, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. He dropped his duffle bag, you assumed it held the clothes he wore before the concert, before he tangled his fingers in your hair. You pulled back, hooking your finger into the ring on his collar and tugging him into the living room. You stumbled onto the couch, pulling him onto your lap and continuing to kiss him.

"Mommy really liked your performance today baby." You told him in a low voice once you had pulled away, squeezing his ass as you said it. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, his hips rolling lightly into yours. You leaned up so you were whispering in his ear. "Why don't you do it again, just for mommy this time." His breath hitched in his throat as you bit on his earlobe, before he nodded and reached for his phone. His hands were shaking slightly in excitement as you lightly trailed your fingers up and down his thighs while biting and sucking random spots on his chest and collarbones. He finally found the song and clicked it, standing up and setting his phone on the coffee table before standing in front of you.

You felt your heart stop for a second as Hoshi looked up at you with hooded eyes, starting to move his hips to the beat of the music. His movements were mesmerizing as he danced, unbuttoning his shirt in the process. When he had turned around you brought one of your hands up to squeeze his ass, making him whine as he continued to dance for you. When he faced you again, he had finished unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall down his arms and throwing it next to where you were on the couch. You bit your lip as you watched his torso muscles tense and un-tense as he expertly moved his body. When he had gotten closer to you, you grabbed his hips and pulled him to sit on your lap. He seemed surprised for a second before he seductively rolled his hips side to side, and sometimes into yours, in time with the music. You could see the prominent bulge straining against the leather pants he was wearing.

Your mind clouded with arousal as you moved so he was straddling one of your thighs and pushed his hips down onto it. He opened his mouth in a silent moan before continuing to slowly move his hips into your thigh. Pretty soon, both of you had completely blocked out the music as Hoshi was bouncing on your thigh with his head thrown back, letting out delicious sounds as he gripped your shoulders. You grabbed the leash from its place on the couch and hooked it into the collar. Hoshi moaned louder as you pulled the leash, bringing him face to face with you so you could leave kisses along his jaw. He whimpered as he moved his hips faster.

"O-oh fuck- mommy! Mommy 'm gonna cum! F-fuck- please mommy!" You knew he wasn't begging for release, even though he was grinding into you as fast as his hips would let him. You grinned against his jaw and grabbed his hips, making him move them faster. He whined, his hands reaching down to claw at your biceps in panic. "N-no! Want mommy to F-fuck me! Please fuck me mommy!"

"Mommy wants to see you get off on her thigh first, alright baby?" The promise of another orgasm made Hoshi scream out a moan and nod frantically. You smirked and tensed your thigh, making him gasp and let out one last moan before he came in his pants.

"Look at what a mess you made, baby." You cooed at your boyfriend as you lied him down on the couch, sitting yourself between his legs. He mumbled incoherently, unable to give you a proper answer after his powerful orgasm. You removed your own clothes before reaching for the edge of his pants, carefully pulling them down his legs and removing his boxers soon after. You pulled at the leash making him whimper as you leaned down slightly to kiss him. As the kiss got more heated, you felt his dick twitch to life, making you smirk against his lips before you pulled away. He whined at the loss of contact before gasping as you gripped his cock tightly.

"You're getting hard again already baby. You must really want me to fuck you, huh?" He whined as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Why don't you tell mommy how much you want it. Beg for it." You could feel the pants he let out against your ear before you pulled back to look at his flushed face. You loosened your grip on his cock, only barely brushing your fingertips along his shaft, making him whine out beneath you.

"Please! Please touch me mommy!"

"Where? You need to be more specific baby."

"Fuck- Everywhere!! My d-dick, my thighs, my chest- everywhere! Please mommy!" You smirked, pleased with his answer before you grabbed his dick again, quickly stroking him. Hoshi cried out, throwing his head back in pleasure and grabbed the pillow under his head. You lightly trailed the fingertips of your other hand over the underside of his thighs, knowing how sensitive they were. He kept whimpering, his hips bucking up every once in a while to fuck into your hand. Once he was fully hard again, you took your hand off him. He whined in distress, bucking his hips up into thin air. You chuckled at his desperateness before moving to hover above the tip of his cock. You stayed still for a minute, seeing how long it would take him until he started to thrust up into you. He whined, tilting his head to look up at you.

"Please mommy… I've been a good boy, haven't I?" Your heart melted at the broken tone of his voice.

"Of course you have, baby." You cooed at him, sinking down on his cock. He threw his head back with a whine, trying his best not to move his hips as you bottomed out. "Mommy's best boy." He whimpered and bit his lip. You slowly started to move your hips in a figure eight motion, speeding up once more and more noises of pleasure left his lips. It wasn't long before you had him screaming beneath you, writhing in pleasure as you bounced quickly on his cock. His hair was sticking to his forehead with a light sheen of sweat that covered his entire body. You readjust your grip on the leash you still held in your hand, lightly tugging it to make sure he would listen to you.

"Look at you baby, all fucked out beneath me. You looked so dominating and intimidating on that stage earlier, didn't you? What do you think everyone would think if they saw you like this, moaning like a whore underneath me?" He moaned louder at the degrading nickname, his hips unconsciously bucking to meet yours.

"F-fuck! I- AH- I don't care!! I-I don't care what they t-think!! J-just want mom-my to fuck me l-like the slut I am! M-mommy's good slut!" You groaned at his answer, bouncing on him faster. The new speed caused Hoshi to arch his back off the couch with a cry of pleasure.

"That's right baby. No one else can fuck you like this, can they? My pussy is the only one that will ever be able to make you cum. Go on baby, I want to hear you say it." You growled in his ear, tugging the collar a little harder, making his whines louder.

"S-shit! Mommy's the o-only person that can satisfy m-me! The only one that can m-make me cum! No one can touch me like you do mommy! F-fuck- You o-own me!" You leaned down, sucking and biting more marks onto his skin. "F-fuck mommy! I-I'm gonna cum mommy! Please let me c-cum mommy, please!!" His high pitched cries made you clench around him. He sobbed, a few tears falling down his face as he tried to hold it in.

"Wait." He sobbed again, his hips trying to leave the pleasureful feeling of your warm walls around him. You bounced on him faster, making his voice crack with a moan as you tried to reach your high. "Y-you only get to cum after I do, okay slut." He whined loudly, quietly hiccuping as more tears fell down his face. Having a little mercy on him, you trailed your fingers down to your clit, making your eyes roll back in your skull as you came with a groan. Hoshi cried out in relief beneath you, moaning hoarsely as his hot seed covered your soft walls. You both panted quietly, tears still falling down Hoshi's face as he tried to calm down. You looked up, wiping the tears off your boyfriend's face and gently kissing him. He happily sighed against your lips as you pulled him out of you. You pulled away, loving pressing your forehead against his. You slowly opened your eyes, taking the collar off of your boyfriend and throwing it somewhere.

"You okay baby?" He opened his eyes, smiling at your concern.

"I-" he was cut off by a cough as his vocal cords had been pushed to their limits by how much he screamed. You hurriedly ran to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water. He smiled up at you gratefully, bringing the glass to his lips once he sat up. You were about to hand him his boxers after you put on your own underwear, but decided to grab some from your room after seeing the drying cum that stained the front. You came back to the couch, gently tossing him some boxers. He slipped them on, almost stumbling the first time he tried to stand up from the couch. You giggled at him before scooping him up in your arms, carrying him bridal style to your shared bedroom. Hoshi let out a surprised shriek as he was lifted off the ground, throwing his arms around your neck.

"Wah, my girlfriend's so strong!" You both laughed at his comment before you threw him on the bed.

"You are such a dork, you know that right?" You told him with a chuckle as you cuddled next to him under the covers. He hummed contentedly and snuggled up to you under the covers, closing his eyes.

"But you love me anyways." Hoshi mumbled with a small smile. You fondly smiled at his sleepy form, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

"Yeah, I do."

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hatsukeii · 4 years

Text

𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨- 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

“Oh my fucking god, you did WHAT?”

“Calm down, I just helped him with something after school, it’s not like I blew him off in a locker room or something, chill.”

“No! This is HUGE! You helped THE Tsukishima Kei! You know? Super rich, privileged, snobby family Tsukishima? The one whose parents pulled him out of volleyball practice once for some college tour Tsukishima Kei?”

“Wait. He’s a Tsukishima?”

At that sentence, Mai’s mouth hung open as she stared at you in disbelief. You poked at your tray of food, occasionally eyeing said boy from across the cafeteria. He was sat there, picking at what looked like a strawberry cake. Next to him, was a freckled boy. The duality in the energy between the two was almost ironic. To think that a cold, indifferent loner like Tsukishima would willingly tolerate a bubbly, enthusiastic and easily flustered boy like freckles over there, it was kind of funny to look at.

“Mai? Earth to Mai?”

“(Y/n), baby, I’m sorry but you’ve gotta be either on the bottom of the school hierarchy scale, which I’m sure you aren’t, or have been living under a rock your entire life. Do you know how many of us girls would kill to be of any use to him? He’s hot, rich, and smart, he’s Mr. Fucking Perfect!”

You took another peek towards Tsukishima. It’s only been about half a minute and he’s already got a crowd of girls surrounding his table. He continued to devour the cake, not paying any mind to the harem situation he was in. One of the girls slapped his back, causing him to jerk forward and drop the piece of cake in his fork. You stifled a tiny snicker, feeling slightly bad for him, but at the same time extremely amused by the situation.

“I know he’s all popular and stuff but it’s no big deal, he doesn’t even know who I am. I helped him out once and that’s it, he probably doesn’t even remember.”

Rapidly firing awkward hand gestures, along with excessive noises, Mai grabbed your sleeve, shooting straight up and dragging you to the girls’ restroom. Slamming the door shut, she put her two hands to her temples, rubbing circles into the two sides of her head. Her eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her eye sockets. Abruptly, she spun around to face you, almost hitting her forehead against yours. You flinched, holding out your hands protectively to shield your face as you stared at your friend in concern. She took a hold of your shoulders, looking you dead straight in the eye with unwavering determination.

“What did you help him with yesterday (Y/n)?”

“I don’t really think I’m in the position to tell you-”

“Okay but did you touch him?”

“What?”

“(Y/n), did you make contact with him or not?”

Mai’s grip on your shoulders was deathly tight. It was clear that you weren’t going anywhere until you told her what had happened the day before. Sighing to yourself, you scratched your head, surrendering to her.

“I mean I grabbed his arm and pat his back, that’s about it.”

Her hands flew straight off your shoulders and were slapped over her mouth. From looking at her cheeks, you could make out a huge smile from under her hands. A high pitched chuckle, followed by more muffled, but high pitched laughs came out of her mouth as you perked your brow in confusion.

“Oh, oh (Y/n), baby boo I’m so proud of you!”

“Wha- what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You got to touch him? Do you understand how incredibly fortunate you are?”

Cringing at her words, you slowly shook your head.

“No? I don’t?”

“Just go home later and think about it yourself, okay? God, what a lucky bitch... you’re lucky I’m your friend and the only one that knows! If any of his fangirls found out, you’d be dead by sunrise.”

Pushing you out of the restroom, she sat down at her lunch table as if the talk you guys just had never happened. However she would occasionally give you a look, before eyeing Tsukishima, who at this point was just going through his phone, then back at you again. Starting to get annoyed and quite frankly embarrassed, you slammed your hands onto the table, before grabbing your almost untouched tray of food, and throwing it out. The cafeteria stared as you stomped to your seat, grabbed your bag, and stormed out. However, apart from being embarrassed and irritated, those weren’t the main reasons why you left the cafeteria. You were guilty. You felt bad for lying. God if Mai were to ever find out you left out such a juicy detail she would absolutely kill you.

Because you still couldn’t get the thought of him out of your head.

Last night, you laid in bed trying to sleep, but so many questions were made after that encounter. Who was he? Why did that seem like the first time you had ever seen him?

It was now midnight, and you were in the exact same state as last night. Giving it a bit of thought, you realised that he was probably always here. His presence was so nonexistent to you that you never even noticed him. You would see an extra tall classmate under the tree at times, scribbling in a notebook or whatever. A tuft of blond hair amongst a sea of students during an assembly. A pair of glasses on the lab table, followed by a boy scrambling back for it. Those were the questions you had yesterday. Today, it was a whole new subtopic that opened up to you. Tsukishima Kei. That was his name.

“Tsukishima huh...”

You knew who the Tsukishimas were. Mai was right. The family was privileged and known nationwide for their extremely successful members. One of their most famous was Akiteru Tsukishima. He seemed like a modest person on TV most the time. Think about it, he has mentioned something about a brother. Maybe he was talking about Kei? Something didn’t add up for you. How was it that everyone else in his family was so famous, yet you had never heard of him before? Whipping out your phone, you searched for Mai’s contact, before sending her a text.

You- Mai

You- MAI

You- MAI REPLY RIGHT NOW ISTG

Mai🤮💕- wtf do you want you crazy ass bitch it’s midnight

You- Oi wtf go back to sleep bitchass

Mai🤮💕- wha

Mai🤮💕- wtf do you want from me woman

You- Anyways don’t take this the wrong way okay but have you ever seen Tsukishima with his family or on TV or the news or sth?

Mai🤮💕- so you’re simping

You- no<3

Mai🤮💕- To answer your question no, I haven’t. I’ve bumped into his mom and other brother at an art gallery before though, I think the woman said she didn’t know a Kei when I asked. Wack ass hoe forgetting about her own relative

You- cool thanks now go to bed bye

Setting your phone back onto the floor, you placed your hands behind your head.

“What’s up with him...?”

Panic attack at school then turns out he’s a member of some mega successful family, yet he stays unknown?

Something wasn’t adding up, and it was bugging you to no end.

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @trashcanweeb @itmekisuu @fandomwriter73 @random-fandomlover @samanthaa-leanne @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @skyeackermans @writeiolite @ewfilthymundane @mariechan123 @saturnmoon @macaronnv @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @artsamber @kaylacinderella @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @tchalameme @onigirinimiya

Why are my works so short lately I hate this but I’m so tired I’m so sorry it’s really shit

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu tsukishima #hq #hq x reader #hq tsukki #hq imagines #hq headcanons #hq scenarios #hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #lemons and sugar #this is really shit but please i hope you like it #super short and i hate that im so sorry idk what’s up these days my writing is so bad now

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surrealsunday · 4 years

Note

Jaime im so fuckin mad&sad rn can u spare anything from ur recent writing or a little snippet from sth you work ing on

Babbbeeeeee. I’m sorry! Is that ‘cause of the skamfr drama currently going down? I would be happy to distract you from all that! What about a little Spark to Flame? Post-fic snippet (note written straight from the brain - no proofing so don’t judge the grammatical mess too harshly)!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

He hadn’t planned on staying. He really hadn’t. He’s only popped by the station to deliver some dinner for Lucas (his boyfriend had no sense of proper nutrition and Eliott was going to change that if it was the last thing he did!) and then he was going to go right back to Lucas’s – no, their place – to get back to work on his new painting series. He’d felt particularly inspired lately and wanted to take advantage. But the boys had been pulled out for a call just as Eliott had arrived and well… Isak was there, and Eliott much preferred his company over an empty apartment… and so, now he found himself in the TV room, sitting with the Tupperware spread between them on the couch, finishing up the dinner that had been meant for Lucas. He will admit it’s perhaps not the most boyfriend-y behaviour, but Isak had commented on how good it smelled and what a terrible cook Even was and… well… what was Eliott to do but take pity on the poor boy and share? Lucas was likely going to be out for hours anyways and it wouldn’t have been nearly as good reheated.

“Fuck,” Isak groans, throwing his fork into the container and leaning back against the arm of the couch, patting his stomach in either satisfaction or pain… maybe both. “Think I could pay you to bring me dinner here?”

Eliott smiles pleased, moving the container to the coffee table and pushing himself back against the opposing couch end. “Lucas always complains the stuff I make is too healthy.”

Isak scoffs, looking thoroughly offended on Eliott’s behalf. “That kid thinks anything that’s not pizza is health food.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“Well, I mean –”

“If you say something about your guys’ sex life,” Isak cuts him off with a hand raised, “I will kick you in the balls.”

Eliott laughs. “I was going to say I love him.” He scrunches his shoulders to his ears in something like a shrug. “Makes it pretty easy to put up with him.”

Isak sighs, but there’s a slight smile on his face. “Still don’t know how he managed that. Always thought that kid had some sort of voodoo magic going on – just figured he was using it to curse me… not find himself true love.”

Eliott feels the tips of his ears heat at the thought, and he laughs a little. “Well there is that doll under our bed covered in pins… always wondered why it was named Isak.”

Isak laughs. “Burn the witch!”

“Who’s a witch?” It’s Lucas at the doorway. Eliott’s face breaks into a smile at the sight. He couldn’t have been gone longer than a half hour.

“That would be you, love.” Eliott beams at his boyfriend, “because of your magical powers.”

“Mmm,” Lucas hums, walking towards them on the couch. “Better have meant it as a compliment.”

“Of course,” Eliott answers at the same moment Isak scoffs, “Definitely not.”

Lucas passes Isak as though he’s not there, moving to Eliott’s end of the couch and much to Eliott’s shock and delight, immediately settling himself in his lap, legs bracketing his hips and arms moving to settle on Eliott’s shoulders, hands light in his hair. In doing so he has put his back directly to Isak, blocking Eliott’s view of the other boy. It’s with some amusement, and to the sight of Isak rising with an irritated sound and glare directed at Lucas’s back, that Eliott realizes this was likely intentional.

“I’m gonna go find Even.”

“You do that,” Lucas responds before Eliott can, not turning to acknowledge Isak at all. Eliott presses his lips together to hide his smile.

“It was cool to chill with you, Eliott,” Isak smiles, meeting Eliott’s eyes over Lucas’s shoulder. “Next time you bring dinner, include me in that delivery, yeah?”

Eliott laughs lightly, “Not like you missed out this ti–” His reply is cut off by Lucas’s mouth descending on his. It’s not a quick kiss. There’s nothing sweet or gentle about it in fact. It’s a hard, demanding press of lips. Lucas’s hands hold Eliott’s face tightly as he slants their mouths together. Eliott opens his mouth to meet Lucas’s tongue, grip tight on Lucas’s hips. Eliott hears Isak offer a parting remark he can’t quite hear over the Lucas Lucas Lucas reverberating in his brain.

Lucas pulls back after a few more moments with a teasing bite to Eliott’s lower lip. He keeps their faces close. “He’s such a dickhead.”

Eliott chuckles, moving to press a quick kiss to Lucas’s pouting lips before he answers. “He’s really nice to me.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “That’s why he’s a dickhead.”

“You’d rather he be rude to me?” Eliott tries to temper exactly how charmed he is by Lucas right now but that little wrinkle that’s formed between Lucas’s eyebrows is making it really difficult.

“No,” Lucas huffs. “Just want you to agree with me and tell me you think he’s the least attractive boy you’ve ever met.”

Eliott laughs. He can’t help it. It’s a full-bodied laugh and he pulls Lucas down and into him, wrapping him in a tight hug as he tucks Lucas’s face into his neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not,” Lucas protests, kissing the side of Eliott’s neck before turning his face to rest his cheek against Eliott’s chest.

“A ridiculous boy,” Eliott whispers, pressing a kiss to Lucas’s hair, hands running up and down his back. “Most beautiful, ridiculous boy I’ve ever met.”

Lucas hums happily, rubbing his face against Eliott in a way that thoroughly reminds Eliott of an affectionate cat. “Eliott?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Did you let Isak eat my dinner?”

Eliott’s hands freeze on Lucas’s body and he slowly turns his head in the direction of Lucas’s gaze… at the very empty Tupperware sitting on the coffee table. Uh oh. There’s clearly only one way to handle this.

Lucas raises his head slowly, eyebrow cocked, and gaze filled with challenge. Eliott rolls them. Right off the couch. Lucas lets out a startled cry as they land with a thump.

“What the –” Eliott doesn’t let him finish. Reconnecting their mouths in a kiss so filthy it has no place in a firehall… though perhaps there’s some jokes about an inferno to be made there… but in truth, this kiss should belong no place but in their bedroom. But risks must be taken in the name of distraction. And distraction is very clearly needed. He throws himself into it, kissing Lucas as though they’d been separated for months, by land and sea, war and sacrifice. When he pulls back, Lucas is a delightful, rumpled mess. Lips swollen and eyes glassy, he stares up at Eliott. Eliott waits. It’s the moment of truth.

“We’re ordering pizza when we get home.”

Eliott laughs, letting his face fall to Lucas’s neck, he presses a kiss to the mole he finds there, before raising his head to look at Lucas once more.

“Deal.”

And then they’re kissing again. It’s a small sacrifice to make in the name of appeasing a possessive Lucas. For tonight, nutrition can go out the window. But tomorrow? Tomorrow they’re eating salad.

#Spark to Flame fic

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believe-that-you-can-my-friend · 7 years

Note

Hii! Can you do a fic in the future where jughead already published his first novel and he has like some sort of conference or sth where he gets asked questions and all and somebody asks about the girls next door and he talks so sweetly about her and like Betty is in there too and all. Idk if you get it but English isn't my first language. Oh and I love your writing btw you are really talented

#GirlNextDoor

*insert here Titanic’s “It’s been 84 years” gif* Yes, it’s a prompt!! I finally uploaded one! Easter holidays are totally messing my writing scedule and I’m so terribly sorry for that. But I’m back in the game and I promise I’ll be my usual bughead obsessed self from now on! So, I’ve finished this just before the episode aired yesterday (I was just so tired to go over it and post it after the episode ended, I’m sorry) and I’m very pleased a lot of things that I wrote became canon. I had so much fun writing this because I’m a sucker for future fics and because that’s pure fluff and a huge, much needed dose of happiness to Jughead’s life! Also I changed the request a little, I wrote this as a TV interview just to make it more grande for Juggie, I hope you don’t mind, nonnie! Thank you for requesting and for your lovely words!!!

Betty could literally feelherself bouncing on her heels with nervous excitement, the velvet material ofher blush colored pumps getting scratchy as they rubbed up against each otherbut, truly, right now, she didn’t give a damn about her potentially ruined shoes.She could only focus on the red digital numbers changing sequentially over the silverdoors of the semi-packed elevator she was in, biting her lip nervously andcounting mentally in her mind as if that way, somehow, the numbers would runfaster and the silver cage would miraculously arrive on her floor in ananosecond.

7,8, 9, 10…Ding! Betty had never felt before a bigger wave of euphoria at the sight ofthe wooden door with the silver 10B at the end of the corridor and shemaneuvered herself around a happy family of four and a middle-aged businessmanbefore pumping shoulders with Mrs. Pomphrey from the twelfth floor, causing thealways preppy and posh looking older woman to raise an exasperated eyebrow ather unusual unmannered behavior. Betty managed to send her most sweet and goodgirl smile over her shoulder, wanting to maintain her pure, naïve façadetowards their landlord, and she saw the woman shaking her head disapprovinglybut finally turning a tad lenient, regarding the young of Betty’s age, justseconds before her wrinkly and full of make-up face disappeared behind the doorsof the elevator. “The mammoth DaisyBuchanan”, Jughead’s nickname for the woman in his usual snarky tone ofvoice came to her mind and Betty burst into silent laughter as she ran down thecorridor and jiggled her keys, unlocking the apartment door in a swift motionbefore closing it with force behind her, quick fingers already tugging at thelapels of her beige, ruched sleeved, loose fit blazer.

Her Cambridge blue bag droppedto the hardware floor with a loud thud, the cotton tote bag on her shoulder filledwith documents and paperwork followed after and her bare knees under her darkgreen skirt collided with the corner of a big carton box that laid there nextto a minimal set of drawers, making her hiss in pain as she twirledungraciously to throw her blazer in the coat closet by the door in a hurry. Ithad been nearly two months now that they had moved from New York to Boston,Betty scoring an amazing opportunity for an internship at The Boston Globe a year after they hadgraduated NYU that left her ecstatic and Jughead the proudest man alive, butstill they weren’t quite settled in, similar beige boxes filled with books orutensils or other random household necessities, laying around in pretty muchevery room of their new and cozy apartment, a wonderful change of pace fromtheir old and smelly hole that it was their first apartment in New York.

Hugging her laptop bag againsther chest, Betty literally slid down the small hallway until she reached thejoined spacious living room and kitchen, unhooking the ankle strap of her leftheel and groaning in despair as she simultaneously jumped on her other foottowards the grey couch, dropping her laptop carelessly and snatching violentlythe remote control from between the fluffy pillows, pressing some keys untilshe reached the channel she wanted. Seeing that commercials were still on, theblonde girl let a loud sigh of relief.

Today was a big day for them;today her long-time boyfriend and lifetime soulmate, Jughead Jones, or mostly commonlyknown to the public, J. Jones, was going to give his very first big interviewon TV.

Perfectly timed with his highschool graduation, Jughead had drew an end to the chapter of their lives thatwere titled Riverdale and Jason’s Blossom murder, effectively putting the lastfull stop of his first novel right before taking off to college. Despite thefact that he and Betty had reached the end of the labyrinth by the end ofsophomore year – their dedication and sharp minds coordinated with theirpassion about finding the truth and wicked love about the detective film noiressence of the subject brought them first face to face with the real killer –there was still a veil of chained mysteries and ploys that surrounded theirsmall town and needed to be solved first before the day the vicious murderwould be held accustomed for his crimes, shocking the small community ofRiverdale and changing it forever.

Jughead had printed it out, asingle copy only and with no title, bound it and gave it to Betty to read thenight of graduation, after the loud and carefree party of their graduated classat Sweetwater river and after their personal after party in his room at thesmall house he and his, back on track, dad were renting at the time. Betty hadbeen ecstatic, glowing even more as she lay next to him wrapped in the greysheets of his twin-sized bed, finally able to get her hands on what she was surewas marvelous work. “It’s yours” he had said in a whisper against her temple,crashing her inside his embrace, bare back against bare chest and coaxed inpassion blamed sweat “I’m not gonna publish it; I just want you to have it.”

Betty had turned to send himan incredulous look over her shoulder, the thick stash of papers that held hisyears-long work slipping from her fingers to rest on the small spot on the bedtheir tangled up bodies didn’t occupy. She had been utterly confused, he believedin that novel and always considered it his breakthrough work, his one-wayticket out of the impurity that stained their hometown and his free pass to prosperity.Jughead, though, had a good reason to contradict.

This was their story. Yes, thecontent of the book was mainly a mystery, a Hitchcock-like narrative of abrutal murder, of a kid’s murder, that shook a small town with every secretthat was being unraveled like a domino effect after that dreadful night on July11th. But under the misery and the lies and the deceit and thehorror, the story at its core was a love story. At first glance, an expressionof appreciation and devotion towards beauty and purity at the form of a longforgotten Riverdale, underneath which the true subject of the author’sinfatuation laid; the aerie presence of the girl next door, the one and only, BettyCooper.

He didn’t want for the wholeworld to know, he didn’t care. He was more than content with him and herknowing, with them keeping his first work of words their sacred secret andtheir personal relationship chronicle. It didn’t feel right by him to put outin the world something so personal, to strip bare for just five-minutes of fameand a probably small paycheck. His desire had been to keep it away fromjudgement, scrutiny or misinterpretation, adamant to put on sale a part of hissoul and knowing that the true meaning behind his eloquent words would betwisted and ultimately lost. The whole book was his adolescence, hers, theirfriends’, and, on top of that, his own coming of age story as a writer and as aman, and the thing he dreaded the most was for his blonde muse to be desecratedor lessened into something filthy and sexualized for the sake of publication.

Betty had felt flattered andmore in love with him than ever. They had made love again that night over andover again, slow and tender this time, and with hushed words of devotiontrembling against their gasping lips. The next day they had taken off to NewYork, Betty riding shotgun on an old black Buick Riviera – FP’s graduation giftto his son – packed to the hilt with carton boxes and suitcases, and having hernose buried in the book of the love of her life, drinking the words hungrilyand reliving every little step along the way that had brought them there, roadtripping their way to college with rolled down windows and his hand layingaffectionately on her bare thigh, petal pink skirt brushing his knuckles withevery blow of the morning wind. She had reached the end of the magniloquentbook by the same night, with tears in her eyes and a swelling heart, declaringhow beautiful it was and how terribly in love she was with him over and overagain as they made love under the stars.

Years kept passing, collegewas keeping them busy and Jughead’s mind had been working overdrive,brainstorming new ideas and getting excited and engulfed in his desire to writethem on paper. Two more small novels had been written by his miraculous mind duringtheir college years and with Betty’s encouragement to finally let other peopleenjoy his outstanding work - her words not his - Jughead had taken the big stepand sent his work to publishers. However, it seemed that their opinion didn’tquite align with Betty’s. No phones had ever rung, no one had come knocking ontheir door searching for the mysterious and impeccably talented J. Jones. Jugheadhad felt sixteen and not enough once again.

One particular night, whenBetty had woken up and found him for the fifth night in a row awake and at thesmall worn-out desk that they called their office area, head buried inside hishands in despair and what seemed like his fourth cigarette for the nightbetween his fingers, its smoke escaping in a peaceful line from the open rustywindow and getting mingled with the Chinese food smell from the restaurant nextto their cheap but anachronistic apartment building, she patted back insidetheir tiny bedroom and unburied the solemn copy of his beloved first novel fromher nightstand drawer, where she kept it as something as important as her ownheart. Coming back to him, she rubbed his back affectionately, Jughead’s chestreleasing a big sigh as on reflex to her soothing touch and offering her a sad,tired smile upon tilting his head slightly to face her, Betty pecking lovinglyhis temple and then the prominent bag under his left eye. She had laid thenovel in front of him, Jughead looking intensely at his first page as she spoke,plain and white, with just his and her name in dedication. “This is your voice,Juggie.” She had whispered sweetly through the darkness “Don’t worry. Peoplewill love it for the right reasons; you and your words make sure of that.” Andwith a nudge of her cheek to the side of his forehead she was gone, leaving himagain alone with his thoughts.

Jughead had stayed up allnight, contemplating and huffing. And near the crack of dawn he did it; he typedthe first title that came to mind, TheScarlet River, and spent the next hours changing each and every name,putting familiar sounding ones for authenticity but keeping their trueidentities hidden. He had mailed his finished work to only two publishinghouses, the ones he thought were more respectful to the author’s work in hisopinion, and went to bed, enveloping a sleeping Betty in his arms and prayingthat he had made the right choice. A week later, both companies had showedtheir interest in publishing his work.

It was a rollercoaster afterthat. Jughead wanted to choose the deal that would offer him the most creativefreedom, both companies practically bending backwards and promising him thestars and the moon to have such a brilliant and intelligent young artist intheir publishing family, but he wasn’t really interested in the paycheck. Hisonly condition before giving his consent had been no third party editing hiswork whatsoever and he got it. So he shook hands with a smiley middle aged man andthe printing began, the book with the minimalistic black cover illuminated by arunning red river at the center and his name at the very top of the glossy hardpaper hitting the bookstores just a few days after his and Betty’s collegegraduation. And to his amazement and Betty’s delight that she was right allalong, people actually had gone crazy for the first novel of the mysterious J.Jones.

Hordes of people from all ageswere queueing in bookstores and shopping malls to gain a copy, bloggers weretalking about it on the internet, magazines were featuring this newbreakthrough mystery novel in their must-read lists. Betty had startedcollecting every newspaper snippet that mentioned her boyfriend’s name orquality work, bookmarking every site and every online article that praised hiscaptivating writing skills and sharing the results of her daily research withJughead, loving seeing his boyish wide smile being reborn again on his lips andlighting his whole face after months of him being in a dead end author andcharacter wise. There were Instagram posts from people reading all over the country, the cover of the book being photographed on kitchen countertops nextto someone’s breakfast or amongst bedsheets before midnight, inside travelbags, next to business calendars, on floral teenage bedrooms or emo lookingones, even being featured in plenty variations of the most common millennialpicture, the one depicting the view of a beautiful beach and a book against theslender legs of a sunbathing girl, that book being J. Jones’ spectacular novel.That made even Archie admit that his best friend was starting to get famousafter all. People were starting to reach out on him, following him on his upuntil then low-key Twitter and Instagram accounts, asking questions about hiswork, demanding more, wanting to know if the story was real or a well-mapped fictionidea out of a very talented writer’s head. Betty and Jughead would go on withtheir everyday lives normally, go to work every morning on their part-timejobs, run errands, go out on dates but now they would come across people beingengrossed in Jughead’s book everywhere, on the subway or the grocery store, atcoffee shops, at restaurants, on a park bench, both of them feeling a swell ofpride each and every time.

Jughead had refused to do anybook tours or press conferences, even though the publishers and his manager –yeah he had one of those now – had all been a huge pain in the ass and wereconsistently insisting in him doing so for the sake of his income. He wasadamant again; he was perfectly content with how things had turned out to be.People was loving his work, he was being recognized for his talent and he hadnow more than enough money in his pockets and his bank account to offer thewoman of his dreams the best life she deserved; he wasn’t interested in anyempty popularity façade. To keep his deal with the publishing house though hehad to agree to some terms of marketing, even though he completely despised theidea. Betty and her overall brilliant mind had been once again his savior, her comingup with an innovational concept that had the publishers rubbing their hands indelight and Jughead loving her even more, and that was humanly impossible. Aninteractive site had been launched where the author in question started postingthoughts and information about his work, answering questions to readers fromall over the world, discussing theories with them – something that made himsmile like a five year old and type way in excitement – and even doing somelive shows once in a while to interact with his fans more. Sales had skyrocketedafter that, the book was being printed over and over again, people were talkingabout it amongst friendly gatherings, over drinks after work, even dedicatingthought and time on the internet to interpret each and every of his words,discuss either bizarre or well-thought theories and just go ballistic over andover again about the edgy and vague ending, intrigued to extremes to find outmore.

By the end of the year, The Scarlet River had ranked first onthe New York Times’ annual list of bestselling novels. It had been the firsttime that Betty saw Jughead cry from joy, fingers and voice trembling whilereading to her the small paragraph of criticism under the bold title of hisbook, words like “innovational” or “outstanding” or “deliciouslynerve-wracking” standing out amongst other praising compliments. She had jumpedon him with utter excitement and joy, legs wrapped around his waist and armscradling his neck in a tight embrace to show him even more how proud she wasfor him, his face buried in the crook of her neck, thanking her over and overagain for being patient with him and, most importantly, believing in him.

And now they were here; himready to take on the world with his gorgeous, tortured artist looks and hissharp mind and her biting anxiously on her lower lip as she waited in front ofher screen in nervous excitement, feeling her heart beating rapidly just likehis was beating too, many miles away from her. Betty hated herself and stillkept beating herself up for not being able to accompany him to one of the mostimportant moments of his career. She had been there getting hyped and excitedwhen the first copies of his book were delivered, she had been therecelebrating with him every time it got picked for another round of printing,she had been there smiling encouragingly at his first conference with bookcritics and she had been there when his phone rang and a polite assistant fromLarry King Now asked when his hectic schedule would allow him to give them thepleasure of an interview, both hers and Jughead’s jaw dropping to the floor. Butthis time she couldn’t be there. Her internship was demanding and with herbeing a newbie the chances of taking a day off were zero to none, even thoughshe begged and pleaded for an exception just for this particular case. Jugheadwas bummed too but totally understanding as always, although Betty knew hedreaded the fact that he would have to face the unknown alone. So that morningBetty woke him up with breakfast in bed and kisses, styled his hair perfectlyand drove him to the airport despite his objections, dragging him to a bathroomstall just minutes before he needed to be at the check-out line and giving himan intense and full on sultry blowjob, a well-thought plan of hers to ease hismind and offer him the male ego and confidence boost he needed. A pleased anddisbelieving at his luck, awestruck smile never left Jughead’s lips up until helanded in New York.

The business-like chime of herphone cut her reverie short and she rushed to answer with flushed cheeksand a wide grin, seeing the lovely picture of Jughead bare-chested on their bedand smiling sleepily popping on her rose gold iPhone screen.

“My hands are trembling.” Thesardonic voice of her boyfriend came right through when she swiped left toanswer, apathetic as always but with anxiety creeping behind his well-builtarmor, not bothering with a sweet greeting but jumping straight to the point.“My throat feels dry and I keep chugging bottle of water after bottle water andI really think that I’ll get the urge to pee exactly when the interview starts.And I’m sweating, all the way through my jacket. I didn’t even know I couldsweat this much. Plus, what’s with those lights, why are there so many? And I’mhooked with microphones and—” he rambled in a nervous rampage before hersoothing voice interfered.

“Juggie, breathe.” Bettyoffered with a faint giggle, pouting at how cute he was against her phone.

An audible deep exhale filledthe silence before he continued a tad calmer this time. “I’m gonna screw thisup. Please say you’ll still love me when I screw this up and go back to being yourdaily dose of sarcasm in the form of a boyfriend.” He pleaded in asemi-teasing, semi-serious voice drawing another giggle from her lips.

“Um, I don’t know, Jay Jonespushes some of my right buttons. He is such a turn on.” She teased him, fakinginnocence, getting a small amused scoffed in return. She smiled at her littleachievement.

“Great. Even my alter ego ismore suave than me.” He retorted like the definition of a drama queen.

Betty shook her head to no onebut herself. “You’re such a dork and I love you for that.” She let him knowcheerfully, envisioning his rolling eyes and the sideways smirk she was sure hewas definitely sporting right now at her loving teasing. “You are going to dogreat! We’ve done so much prepping!” Once the day of the interview wasapproaching and Jughead was starting to become a mess of nerves and sweatypalms, Betty had had enough. So she conducted a list of possible questions, gavethem to him to answer in the best way he could express himself, bywriting, and then urged him to memorize those answers. They would spend everynight after that going over the questions again and again, Betty sitting ontheir mahogany dinner table pretending to be the interviewer and him acrossher, pacing up and down while he tried to remember the words that best expressed his mind.

“Well, Betts, it’s a tad moreintimidating when you have Larry King in flesh asking the questions.” Heblurted his clever response hearing her sharp intake of breath from the otherend of the line.

“Thank you, Juggie, forranking my sex appeal oozing intimidation under the one of an eighty three year old man.” She grimaced in amusement and shock, Jughead flinching to himself toobecause, who was he kidding, Betty Cooper intimidated and intrigued him to noends and that’s why he always ended up chocking or pushing her on the nearestsurface with mad desire every night she sat across him, playing the part of theinterviewer and challenging him with those piercing green eyes.

“So you talked to him? How ishe in person?” Betty’s whole tone changed as curiosity kicked in, wanting to know more about the well-known TV and radio host.

“Old.” Jughead threw hissardonic one-liner, the blonde huffing a tad in exasperation but smirkingnonetheless. “We just met and talked for a bit. He seems cool, interested andinteresting enough for us to have a discussion of shorts. And apparently hethinks I’m a real deal? Betts, can you believe?” he gasped like a five year old in a candy store.

“That’s huge, babe!” Betty urged his excitement on. “See?There’s no need for you to worry, just go in there and kill us all with youreloquence and your charm.” She encouraged him in her usual sweet and soothingtone of voice.

Jughead exhaled again with agroan, fidgeting with the lapels of his jacket in an attempt to fix it over hisshoulders. “I just hope that question number twenty six will not be asked.” Hemused, arm dropping to his side in frustration that even his attire was givinghim a hard time today.

“What’s your inspirationbehind the conception of the girl next door and why do you think people rootfor her this much?” Betty recited the question under that number in aheartbeat, even herself having memorized the list and his possible answers. “OhI hope question number twenty six willbe asked.” She colored her sentence with enough girly delight, biting her lowerlip at the image of him getting all flushed and terribly cute while worshipingher in front of the world.

“So you and the whole countrycan watch me drown in my own spit and die of embarrassment on live television?”Jughead’s voice went an octave higher at the more than possible scenario ofappearing like a complete freak show. “You know what? I’ll just go, I’ll flee,yes, that’s what I’m going to do.” He shrugged and his nervous outrage startedagain, anxiety coiling low in his stomach and making him actually want tovomit, even though he had spent the whole day famished and consuming only adozen cups of black coffee, something that spoke volumes for someone thatcouldn’t spend a day without gobbling at least five full meals.

“Jughead—” Betty tried tointerfere but it was a lost battle.

“Oh crap, they saw me lurking.”He murmured in alarm. “They are calling me over. Shit, shit, shit what do I do? Lie about having a fatal illness thatneeds immediate assistance? Pretend I’m having a stroke?” he was in full onpanic mode now, trying to give his overly sweaty self some much needed air byswaying vigorously the front of his button-up, desperately trying to fanhimself. “I think that I am actually having a stroke to be honest.”

Betty scoffed at his anticsfor exaggeration. “Stop! Just go!” she urged in a high pitched whine. “Everything’sgonna be fine, if you walk in there like the determined and over-achieving manyou are. I’ve seen you thrive in way worse; you’ve got this, Jug, you trulydo.” She offered her small pep-talk wholeheartedly, absolutely believing thathe could pull off anything he set his mind to.

“Alright.” He sighed deep butthis time it was with pure determination. “Here I go, wish me luck. And pleasechannel some of your inner sunshine and badassery vibes my way; it would bevery much appreciated.” He pleaded for her aid in a joking manner but stillserious enough, knowing that with her backing him up, even in spirit, he couldbe the strongest man alive.

Betty’s melodic laugh was atrue oasis at his time of need. “I will.” She promised before continuing in afoxier, more Betty Cooper in the sheets voice. “And if, at any point, you feellike your confidence is crumbling down think about me.” The girl suggested,before causing her voice to drop a sensual octave down. “Naked.” The adjective was colored with all the necessary unspokeninnuendos and Betty bit her lip, failing to hold back her beaming smile at theadrenaline filled state she surely got him in at this exact moment.

Jughead couldn’t hold back hisown sly smirk. “You’re not helping at all with the situation, Betts.” He warnedher in a whisper, voice husky and suggestive just how she liked, as he took a seat atthe chair an assistant pointed him to, before the man proceeded in doing a last minute check on hismicrophone.

“Oh, I think I was definitelyhelping with the situation this morning at the men’s bathroom of the airport.”Jughead’s mind got bombarded with the dirty images of Betty in a compromisingposition looking up at him while sending him flying to the sky, and he felt hisbody heat increasing in an instant, smiling awkwardly at a young woman thatfilled a mug with mineral water on the table in front of him and adjustinghimself on the comfy chair, praying to find just a small ounce of strength todefeat his raging male urges.

Thankfully, the girl thattormented his body and soul went back to her sweet, ultimately kind-heartedpersona, giving him a chance to breathe. “It’s your time to shine Juggie. Theworld doesn’t stand a chance, just like I didn’t.” her words, depicting herlove-sick smile on her lips, brought a big grin on Jughead’s face who ducked hishead in vulnerability and utter love at the thought of her believing in him. “Ilove you.” She told him the only thing he actually needed to hear in order topuff his chest with courage.

“I love you too. I’ll callyou when this sorcery is over.” He promised and sent her that boyish smile she hadlabeled as her favorite, even though she couldn’t actually see him, before reluctantlyending their short call.

Minutes after Betty hadabandoned her phone on the coffee table in front of her and curled her legsunder her on the sofa, getting more comfortable, the characteristic intro ofLarry King’s talk show filled the silence of the living room, making herstraighten her back and glue her round excited eyes on the TV.

“Welcome to Larry King Now.”The elder interviewer addressed straight to the camera as he opened the show. “Ourspecial guest is Jay Jones,” the camera panned to Jughead across him, whooffered a timid boyish smile to the audience before turning serious, the focuscontinuing to be on him as Larry King’s voice went on “writer of thebestselling novel, The Scarlet River,a post-modern murder mystery that raised quite the frenzy from the very firstmonths of its publication. After nearly a year now, the book that came to upsetthe tedious waters of 21st century’s detective fiction has sold overfour million copies through Amazon and Barnes & Noble, is featured on thebest books list of American Library Association and The New York Times and isnominated for an Edgar Allan Poe Award for Best First Novel.” He finishedlisting Jughead’s accomplishments and turned to the man in question with a warmsmile.

“Now, I’ve met a lot of youngwriters in my life but never came face to face with somebody that achieved allthat in such small amount of time. Is it overwhelming?” The first question wasfired.

“If I claimed that it wasn’t Iwould be lying and the dormant principal in my life is honesty and transparency.”Jughead started and Betty was immediately sold at the way his voice sounded sogravely, at his surprising in-charge posture, at how illegally handsome helooked in the blue button-up and beige jacket she had picked for him to wear onhis big day. Not to mention his raven locks that were still styled the way she had attempted this morning but a tad disheveled, certaintly because of his fingers running over them nervously, creating a messy, sophisticated look that made him look unbelievably irresistible. “It truly is astounding how people responded to my very firstwork, the blowup and the paroxysm of it all, in the good sense of the word,still blows my mind up to this date. The pace is definitely a Lamborghiniappropriate one and I’m an old rusty Buick in regards to adjusting to out of mycomfort zone situations but I’m eternally grateful to everyone that came along tothis new adventurous ride with me.” He huffed awkwardly and his lips formed anadorable nerdy smile of true happiness and Betty couldn’t help but aw at theway he was acting so charmingly sweet, her heart thudding violently in herchest at the sight. He was still nervous, she could tell, but he was masking itperfectly and gradually getting more unwound.

“For anyone that’s been livingunder a rock, care to sum up the story for us?” Alright, basic question, Jug isgood, Betty thought with a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, of course…” hepaused for a minute, shifting on his seat. “Um, the narrative begins with themurder of a seventeen year old boy, James Blake, on July 11th, spreadinga dark veil of sorrow and turmoil over the small town of Riverdale. A maypoleof lies and deceit is being weaved around the up until then lawful residents ofthe frozen in a bygone era close-knit town, its innocence and purity longbefore lost. At a mist of it all, four high school students take it uponthemselves to unwind Ariadne’s red ball of threat down the end of thelabyrinth, on the way getting face to face with their own inner demons andbringing to light their well-hidden skeletons in the closet. They seek justiceand at the end of the day they are capable of doing anything to put an end to thisvery vicious cat and mouse game.” Jughead offered the synopsis of the bookperfectly, resting back on his chair in waiting.

“You say high school kids.”Jughead nodded in affirmation. “But this book is anything but solemnly focusedon teen audiences. What do you think makes it so popular and especially in awide range of people demographically?”

A snarky smile found its wayto the author’s lips, as he watched his fingers drum on the table. “I’massuming you’re asking me how an adult-aimed book, bare of any sexual tones,survived and, not to sound boastful, succeeded in a lewd defined world. Well,yes, sex sells but gore sells better.” He replied cleverly, the elder manchuckling faintly at the response which brought a smile to Betty’s lips too.Jughead was starting to win the room and that was very pleasing to watch.

“To be truly honest with you,I believe that the key was authenticity.” The raven haired boy turned seriousto elaborate his answer more. “The innocence of a classic film noir portrayedin a modern world and being put into words, the nostalgic essence, the maturityand rawness of the characters’ feelings and actions that anyone can reflect on,despite age or sex or color or sexual orientation. It’s the Scooby Gang, as Ilike to call it,” he smirked at the inner joke “but in a total alternative,wicked universe; it’s gruesome, it’s horror, it’s mystery, it’s a trip frominnocence to reality, from childish mentality to adulthood. It’s realistic interms of people’s growth, truthful, and people nowadays need true feelings intheir lives more than ever.”

“You talked about authenticityand that opens a window for me to drop the million dollar question; how much ofthis is fiction?” the interviewer went on. “Are there any true events at all ortruthfulness just applies in regards to staying true to human nature and itsantics in a hypothetical incident of a public-shocking crime?” Betty flinchedin coordination with Jughead’s sigh on the screen. That was the most frequentlyasked question about his book and the question he always hated to face, in fearof revealing parts of their lives that weren’t mend for the public’s eye.

“Oh, the million dollarquestion indeed.” Luckily, he had managed to compose himself quickly and brushit off with an aloof and polite grin. “I have a fear that I’ll spoil the magicif I do give an answer to that or probably get fired” he chuckled lightly andBetty scoffed a laugh “but I think people’s speculations are reaching extremes bynow so here goes nothing. The story is indeed fictional to its biggest part.”He didn’t want to lie to the people; that was never his intention. He justwanted to protect the most vulnerable parts of their adolescence.

“But Riverdale exists, it’syour hometown, and there was indeed a murder of a young boy there.” Larrypushed him further.

“Yes, that is true, along withother bits and pieces of the plot.” Jughead nodded and licked his lipstentatively before continuing. “But is it really realistic that four sixteenyear olds were involved in the most bizarre and otherworldly situations?” Hescoffed in a perfect act of disbelief, the girl watching him rolling her smileyeyes at his theatrics. “Or that Rebecca and Bughead, or Becca and Bug as theirfriends call them throughout the novel, our very own Sherlock-Watsonsleuthering duo, solved a bewildering homicide case with the aid of just theirsharp minds and a couple of cheeky adolescent kisses here and there?” Bettygasped in shocked amusement, not really believing that Jughead shared some oftheir chronic banter regarding the beginning of their relationship with the world. “I’m not even gonna mention our very ownLolita reincarnation, Alfie Akers,” that caused Betty and Larry to laugh loudly “orthe bad girl gone good, the classic riches to rugs heroine, Victoria Lewis.Every character carries a big, fat cliché on their shoulders and I think thisspeaks volumes about whether or not the story is reality or fiction after all.”He put a delicate but firm full stop on the subject, wrapping it up the bestway he could and hoping that he was persuasive enough.

The man’s agreeing nod fromacross him was all he needed to relax. “Fair enough point.” He admitted,checking something on the papers in front of him. “Now Bughead; that is a nameI’ve never stumbled upon in my life. How come you chose such an unconventionaland borderline comical name for the narrator of your story and the character thatseems to go through the most emotional turmoil?” Betty smiled pleased toherself; that was one of the very first questions she had typed down on herpersonal list, because she knew the name sounded obscure and out of place andeveryone wanted to know what the heck had inspired the writer to give hisprotagonist a name like that.

“Because he is unconventional.”He replied without missing heartbeat. “And he is a bug, he bugs people; atfirst with his dark parade appearance and dry humor and later on with hissnooping around and asking all the uncomfortable questions in thirst for thetruth. The guy is a nuisance; that was the most fitting name I ever came upwith.” The idea was actually Kevin’s, since the boy was obsessed with callinghim and Betty like that, and even though the ship name sounded weird in Jughead’s ears it was indeed fitting forthe character in his book that annoyed people and was consumed whole by Betty Cooper.

“Readers don’t see it likethat though. Bughead appears to be the most beloved character of them all.” the host contradicted.

“And I’m very happy about this.He does have a special place in my heart.” Jughead’s smile was genuine, wishingfor his younger self to have been able to see him and how his life had turned out now.

“So what happens to him at theend, then? This is me asking as a big fan here! The book ends with him sayingthat there were three people in that booth. Was he there all along? Wasn’t he? Washe just a product of somebody’s imagination, an empty phantom?” Larry voicedthe confusion of the whole fandom.

“Well, first of all I’mhonored, truly.” There was the boyish smile again and there was Betty’sfluttering heart once again, as Jughead leaned forward resting his elbows onthe table and smirking intrigued. “But now you have to go for it; humor me,what’s your theory?” he challenged, always enjoying hearing each interpretationof his ambiguous book finale.

“I finished the book with theimpression that he was there, that he indeed lived the story from up close. Theend of his narration is just him being objective, a true observer like healways was, and overly protective of his experiences and the ones of hisfriends, sharing a story but not oversharing because of his morality and hisown personal ethics as an author.” The older man had managed to read behind thelines and his spot on theory had Betty biting on her lip nervously andfrowning, expecting Jughead to not be able to hold his calm this time.

However, his control neverfazed. Instead, he even looked amused. “Wow, never heard of that one before.Most people think that the whole story is just a man’s reverie on his deathbedor the wishful thinking of some lonely and borderline mentally unstable vagrantthat wants to be accepted and a part of a community, of a family.” He went onincredulously, holding back the urge to roll his pretty blue eyes. “I’m sorrybut I’m gonna stay true to my character and not proceed to any revelations thathe wouldn’t want me to share.” Laconic and intimidating, Jughead drew a line in the cleverestway possible, causing Betty to grimace in appreciation.

Larry King smiled. “What aboutBecca, the girl next door? She’s the most loved character amongst the hordes ofyour fans. What’s the magic recipe behind creating such a fan-favoritecharacter?”

Question number twenty six.Here we go, Betty thought in delight that she was correct yet again, butactually fighting with the urge to bite on her nails anxiously at the state ofuneasiness Jughead was at the moment. He cleared his throat, trying toprioritize his thoughts despite the fact that with just a small mention ofBetty Cooper every logical order got thrown out of the window. Betty opened hermouth to recite along with him the scripted answer he had for this question buthe yet again surprised her.

“You said it yourself, it’s magic.” Jughead colored the worldwith a disbelieving huff and a head over heels smile. “Honestly, when I thinkabout Becca Cupper this is what comes to mind; imperfection at its finest.”Gasping, Betty fisted the front of her blouse at the sound of the words and theanticipation for more. “She is this strong, wonderful young woman and she isimperfectly perfect. But that’s the beauty of her whole magnetic character. Sheis a field of sunflowers and a sky of thunderstorms at the same time, a forceof nature that can mesmerize you and intimidate you in equal amounts. Nobodywould survive without her, nobody wants to survive without her. She is theepitome of kindness, forgiveness, strength, compassion, feminism, acceptance,but most of all she is the epitome of love. A purified love, a love that isunconditional and irrevocable. And no one can do anything but love her,unconditionally and irrevocably.” Jughead finished his perfect speech,momentarily darting his shy eyes to the camera to address her fully, Bettybeing at the verge of tears at his incredible words but most of all at his over-allincredible character. Betty was lucky; she knew that much from the first timeshe caught him looking at her from the doorway of Pop’s.

“By how you’re worshippingyour heroine, I assume this is Jay Jones’ dream woman too?” the interviewersmiled lovingly. “Or maybe she is not a dream after all and maybe you do haveyour very own girl next door in your life…?”

“Well, maybe I do.” He droppedhis head in modesty, still not believing how the heck he had got so lucky withher. “One that makes even my wildest dreams, a reality.” His smile washonest, genuine and warm and his eyes held that head over heels gaze that madeBetty weak in the knees in an instant.

“Isn’t that thetrue importance of it all?” the older man wondered out loud, sharing a smilewith Jughead before he turned to address the audience once again. “We’ll discussmore with Jay regarding writing inspiration and the industry of publishingright after this.” The show’s theme tune burst out of the speakers signalizingthe start of another round of commercials and Betty dropped back on the couch,looking at the ceiling and smiling like an idiot. His original answer, the onethey kept rehearsing over and over again, was cute and still flattering butthis was something else, a spontaneous act of love and a shot right through theheart that left her giggly, utterly in love and sixteen once again.

Apparently peoplethought Jay Jones’ love declaration was something right out of the pages of themost romantic book ever written too because the #GirlNextDoor was trending for thewhole night.

Jughead came home to a darkand silent apartment as he let the door close behind him with a soft click andhis keys rattle inside the silver décor bawl they kept keys and otherlast-minute things in on top of the set of drawers by the door. Abandoning hismessenger bag next to it and kicking his oxford shoes off recklessly, he shreddedhis beige jacket off his shoulders while sock covered feet brought him lazilyto the living room, blue eyes adorably heaving with fatigue but still alertenough to go on a hunting mission for his blonde angel. The frown lines on hisforehead, him being slightly confused by the radio silence that greeted him andnot her warm embrace and loving words, immediately softened once he spotted heron the couch, deliciously sprawled on the puffy pillows in an old, brownJurassic Park t-shirt of his and just a pair of cheeky, lacey Eton bluepanties, a long leg in delightful display as it lay lightly hitched and overher other wool blanket covered one. Eyelashes resting on rosy cheeks and pinkvoluminous lips parted in a cute little pout, she was dreaming away peacefully,hand still armed with the TV remote control as faint sounds of his voice couldbe heard from the flat screen across her, his previous interview being playedover and over again for her to enjoy. Jughead couldn’t help by smile, thatcontent, lovesick smile he reserved exclusively for Betty Cooper, at heradorably disheveled state but mostly at the swelling feeling of happiness thatemerged in his chest at the thought that she was proud of him, she loved himand she would be always there to wait for him to come home.

Dropping his jacket to one oftheir vintage armchairs, he quietly sat next to her on the couch and let thepads of his fingers feather-lightly brush against her cheekbone in affection,brushing away some threads of hair that fell rebelliously from her messy bunatop her head. His smile became wider once she scrunched her nose prettily andstirred awake, disorientated green eyes turning alert and alit upon spottinghim all sweet and terribly handsome in the dark.

“You’re back.” She cooedsweetly and with the most delighted smile, fisting the material of his bluebutton-up a little over his elbows, coaxing him to lean forward and rest hischest against hers.

“I told you I wasn’t stayingin New York without you.” He was adamant to stay the night at a hotel and takea plane back to Boston early in the morning; his place was at home and home waswhere Betty lay. She smiled pleased and in love, caressing up his biceps forher arms to curl behind his neck, holding him captured in her embrace.

“Ronnie is mad at you. Shewanted to relive crazy college nights with you tonight.” The girl in his armsteased with a humorous grin. The three of them together had spent their collegeyears in New York and the Lodge heiress was starting to miss them terribly nowthat the couple was mapping up their life in Boston. So during an hours-long skypecall that the two young women had after the interview was over, the brunettecity girl was very vocal about her comic irritation at the disrespect ofJughead Jones turning her and her excellent night out planning skills down again,after congratulating Betty for her amazing hubby,as Veronica kept calling him all those years.

“Yeah, I know, I gathered thatmuch from the phone call she paid me the minute I landed in New York.” Jugheadretorted in his usual deadpanned manor, making her giggle faintly. “Firstly,you were the one satisfying her city girl antics for a good clubbing night backthen, never me, and secondly, sorry, I’m still sane enough to know better thanfollow Veronica Lodge into a night trip in the city of sin.” He scoffed like hewas offended. Yes, the two of them had grown closer through the years and heconsidered her one of his closest friends now but still her type ofentertainment wasn’t his cup of tea.

Betty shook her head inamusement. “She loved you in that interview though; said, and I quote, that youkicked some serious butt. Archie and Kevin think so too.” She kept running herfingers through his hair as she spoke, loving how he relaxed and destressedunder her touch, and loving more the messy hair look he had created over thecourse of the day. His waves weren’t anymore styled as she had done thismorning and that made him even more irresistible in her eyes.

“Saw their texts when I got ina taxi here.” The two boys had texted him a hurricane of kind and supportivewords at how incredible he had been in his maiden appearance on screen thatactually left Jughead smiling besides himself, especially at Archie’saffection-oozing message and the words ‘brother’ and ‘proud’ he read amongst his flattering others. “Ican’t believe everyone actually tuned in to watch.” He raised his eyebrowsincredulously, clearly surprised, because as he kept joking on and on the weeksprior to the show he truly did believe that the ratings of tonight’s broadcastwould be the lowest of the season, if not of the entire history of television.

“You have devoted stans now,mister, you better get used to it.” She tilted her chin up proudly, tapping hischin in fake warning. “There was also a gathering of equally hyped stans inRiverdale, did you know about that?” Seeing him shaking his head no andscoffing a laugh in disbelief, Betty went on. “Yeah, apparently there was thisbig audience watching at my mom’s; your dad was there, Fred and Hermione,Polly. Even Jason and Lizzie stayed up passed their bedtime to watch cool uncleJug’s television debut.” Jughead chuckled at that and Betty joined him, theyoung author not quite believing that everyone came together to witness him ofall people do something great but the realization seemed to intensify theperpetual lovely smile he was sporting all the way back to Boston.

“Mom even called to gush aboutyou and your articulacy and your brightly opinioned mind, but what’s new inthat?” she rolled her eyes in fake irritation, an on-going inside joke betweenthem through the years that Alice Cooper loved Jughead more than her owndaughters. He ducked his head in modesty at the complimentary impression thewoman responsible of bringing his other half to the world had for him from thevery start. “Said she’ll call tomorrow to talk to you in person too.” Bettypointed out with an exasperated sigh, not at all mad but, on the contrary,delighted and just teasing him as always about how in too deep in Alice’s goodbooks he was.

He just dropped his foreheadon hers, sighing in relief that he actually didn’t make a fool of himself, thatpeople were proud of him for the very first time. There was this deliciouslysuffocating feeling in his chest, that kind of feeling that life was actuallywinking at him, promising that everything was going to be just fine. Afteryears of him walking around lonely and uncared for, he now had a family, a big familyconsisting of people that loved him and would be there for him for every stepof the way and that was the ultimate happy ending he ever wished for. A happyending that he could witness taking form every day, with every look of love outof those green eyes that held the meaning of his existence. Yes, people wereproud of him; but what mattered most was always the opinion of the first familyhe ever came to know, Betty Cooper and the sanctuary of her love and embrace.

“And what did you think?” hewhispered unsure and vulnerable, because this novel was a part of his soul andtalking about it out in the open was as nerve-wracking as the very first nighthe gave it to her, stripping naked of each and every emotion he held for her inhis broken heart and offering everything for her to take.

“Are you seriously asking thisquestion?” she cupped his cheek, raising his head to look at her, sea of bluegetting lost in forest green in the most beautiful exchange of love anddevotion. “You were amazing, Jughead. Unique, respectful, intelligent and so terribly handsome.” She colored everyword with tenderness and determination, wanting him to know that she meant all ofit and so much more, feeling him visibly relax against her and sneaking hisarms between her back and the couch to cuddle her tighter. “You don’t even knowhow irritated and sad I am that I missed it.” She sighed in regret, stillbeating herself up for having an icy-hearted boss.

“Betts, you would have gottenfired if you pushed the subject of a leave more.” Jughead cut her off with afierce shake of his head. “There’s not only one of us building a career here,you are too, and you must pursue the hell out of it.” He reminded like theperfect boyfriend and guy he was, Betty smiling up at him in gratitude. “Seriouslybabe, stop worrying about it, I know that you wanted to be there. But you werethere for every step of the way before that and you will be there for thenext ones to come, so ease your pretty little head off, okay?” his soothingvoice urged her to relax, brushing the tip of his nose a couple of times overhers, before smiling against her already smiley lips. “Plus, I wouldn’t be ableto utter even a single word if you were standing there watching in person soit’s a win-win.” He shrugged matter-of-factly and Betty giggled lightly, bothof them clearly remembering how distracted and flushed he became every time hecaught her eyes watching him with admiration through the crowd at his first andonly book launch event in Boston. Jughead Jones still got tongue-tied like hissixteen year old self under the power of those crystal clean green orbs.

“So, you do love your girlnext door, don’t you?” she cheekily asked in a candy cane voice, squirmingadorably under him to hug him more.

“I thought we’ve establishedthat by now.” He replied with equal amount of sarcasm seeing her smile growfonder and more dashing. “The question is, did I win her affections back?”

Betty tilted her head againstthe cushion of the sofa, a sigh trembling on her lips at the way he stillsought her confirmation of love after all those years and the way her chestheaved with maddening, head over heels adoration every single time he did. “Becca pulled back and sighed heavily againsthis still parted lips, the force of her kiss causing the course of the planetsinside his mind to change in lightning speed, disturbing the perfect dullnessof his universe. “You taught me what it truly means to fall in love, Bughead. Idon’t wanna settle for less, I can’t settle for less, not after you. I love you.”Betty recited perfectly the lines of his book, quoting every word she haddeclared that night at end of sophomore year when he tried to flee town like amad man, after he had broken down inside her arms as everything around them wascrumbing down. She still meant those words and he knew it, knew that they wouldalways be together, Betty and Jughead being the definition of forever in theirpersonal dictionary of life.

Jughead’s lips formed ananosecond smile at the memory and the way her words and his were mingledperfectly on her lips before Betty continued, eyes focused solemnly on his. His previous words, his public declaration of love and confession of how truly one of a kind she was in his eyes, had stirred something in her, something that commanded her to shower him with her own words of affection. “There’sno one in the world like you, Juggie. You see the world in a way that no oneelse does. And your version of the world is the only one that I want to picturemyself in for all the years to come.” Her hands came to caress his cheekslovingly, Jughead relishing in her touch with fluttering eyes and a flutteringheart. “I can’t even find the words to describe how much I love you, how myheart skips a beat every time I wake up and you’re lying next to me, how Ican’t help but smile every time I hear you whistling in the kitchenabsentmindedly, how I just have to stop and stare whenever you’re typing deepin thought or how butterflies still flutter in my chest every time you look atme with that intense gaze you only reserve for me.” Both of them were seriousand emotional by now, Betty’s voice barely over a whisper in fear of disrespectingthe sanctity of the moment. “You are the person that I admire the most, my bestfriend, my soulmate, my everything in a world of nothing. I never liked beingthe girl next door. But you came along and made that a badge of beauty andhonor and all I ever want now is to be that girl, but only if this door leadsme always to you.” She ended her confession with a trembling but at the sametime certain voice, seeing him look at her like the moon or the stars werenothing in comparison to her.

“Marry me.” Jughead blurted inbarely a heartbeat, mind numb and heart thudding in his chest, not reallyregistering the importance of his question because for him that wasn’t aquestion, he already considered her his everything too; his best friend, hissoulmate, his wife, his person, his own anchor.

Betty’s gasp and blinking wateryeyes were the prettiest reaction he had ever witnessed in his life. “Yes.” Shereplied in simplicity too, like agreeing to them having burgers instead ofsomething healthier for dinner or reassuring him that there was plenty of hotwater for him to take a shower. There was no question, no need for any biggestures or extreme shocked reactions, no thinking about it, like there was noneed for the earth second guessing its centuries old rotation or for the sun torise in the sky at every crack of dawn.

The boyish smile that curledJughead’s lips was the most content and the most make-you-weak-in-the-knees onethat Betty had ever seen him sporting. “God, I love you so much.” He breathedin a disbelieving chuckle before crashing his smiley lips against her damp fromsome rebellious happy tears ones, kissing her senseless and more than terriblyin love, like their life depended on it and they were coexisting because ofeach other’s breathing. And that was maybe indeed the case with them.

“Take me to bed, JugheadJones, and make love to me until I’m gasping for breath and the only thought inmy mind is your beating heart against mine.” Betty pleaded lovingly against hisalready bruised lips, wanting to get completely lost inside of him, the mostwonderful man she got to call hers.

“Is this a wife’s order?” hesmirked against her own red and irritated lips, feeling like the luckiest manon earth at that very moment and vowing to give her everything she ever wantedand so much more.

“Say that again.” Betty’swhisper caressed and warmed his whole face with its tenderness, the girl of hisdreams melting at the sound of the word spilling lovingly out of his lips.

“My wife.” Jughead repeated, husky and with his usual devotionregarding anything Betty Cooper, his eyes caressing every inch of herstunningly beautiful face, falling a little more in love with her at how evenmore breathtaking she looked radiating utter happiness and sunshine in the dark.

She kissed him again,intimately and affectional, heart drumming way too much for her to form actualwords, squealing into the kiss happily as he raised on his feet abruptly,bringing her up with him and causing her to curl arms and legs around him in atight koala hug. And as he continued ravishing her lips while making his way totheir bedroom only one thing was more certain than the power of their love;that Betty and Jughead wasn’t just a happy ending of a book but of an entirelifetime.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fic #bughead prompt #jetty #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdaleships #otp:sundaes & plaids #Anonymous #mywriting

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speakenglish · 8 years

Text

expressions from the Chanzy conversation group....... follow the link for more details http://www.englishcurrent.com/idioms/esl-idioms-intermediate-advanced/

ring a bell

A: Do you know April O’Neil?

B: Hmm. Maybe. That name rings a bell.

on the one hand / on the other hand

On the one hand, Peter’s roommate is kind. On the other hand, he’s quite messy.

have/keep an open mind

I tried to keep an open mind about Allan even though I’d heard some bad things about him.

on the tip of your tongue

His name was on the tip of my tongue… but I couldn’t remember it.

a hangover (noun) / hung-over (adj)

Tyler was too hung-over from last night’s party to go to work.

~ish

Let’s meet around 4ish.

fed up

I’m fed up with my neighbour’s dog.

Big deal!

It takes you 15 minutes to walk to school? Big deal!

Give sb a hand

My dad gave me a hand with my homework.

let the cat out of the bag

It was going to be a surprise party, until Todd let the cat out of the bag.

give it a shot

If you think you can make the team, then give it a shot.

No way!

A: George, I’m pregnant.

B: No way!

The more the merrier.

A: Can I invite my brother?

B: Sure. The more the merrier.

give it your all

Even though I lost the race, I gave it my all.

first-hand

I saw the accident happen, first-hand.

a dead end

Let’s not take this path. It leads to a dead end.

time flies

Time flies when you’re having fun.

pull sb’s leg

“You have 6 brothers? You’re pulling my leg!”

have sth on your mind

When Dana has something on her mind, she likes to go for a long walk by herself.

keep track

I use my watch to keep track of time.

from scratch

My aunt made the cake from scratch.

off the top of your head

He asked me to tell him a joke, but I couldn’t think of one off the top of my head.

learn your lesson

The boy learned his lesson. He’ll never play with fire again.

keep/bear in mind

The professor told his students to keep in mind that they only have 50 minutes to complete the test.

speak your mind

Timmy was afraid to speak his mind in front of his schoolmates.

Just my luck!

It rained on my only day off. Just my luck!

There’s nothing to it.

Why don’t you make a simple website for your business? There’s nothing to it.

get out of hand

The house party got out of hand, so we had to call the police.

cut a long story short

To cut a long story short, Lisa and I have had some interesting experiences together.

a piece of cake

The test was a piece of cake. I finished it in 20 minutes.

go out of your way to do sth

I went out of my way to help Jenny find an apartment, and she didn’t even say thanks!

cross your mind

The thought never even crossed my mind.

road rage

I don’t like being in the car with Gary. He has difficulty controlling his road rage.

go on about

The old man went on about his school days for nearly an hour.

slip your mind

I was going to return the library books today after work, but the thought slipped my mind.

have/throw a fit

The baby threw a fit when I took his toy away.

The ball is in your court

The ball is in their court now. Let’s wait for their decision.

make your day

Finding a fifty-dollar bill on the ground made my day.

a rip off / to rip sb off

Six dollars for a cup of coffee?! What a rip off!

get a kick out of sth

I get a kick out of reading science fiction novels.

catch sb’s eye

The bright advertisement caught my eye.

jump the gun

I jumped the gun and asked Gail to marry me.

give sb a piece of your mind

The angry worker gave his boss a piece of his mind.

cross your fingers

Kate crossed her fingers and hoped it wouldn’t rain on her wedding day.

cost (sb) an arm and a leg

The designer handbag cost her an arm and a leg.

be in hot water

Ken was in hot water about forgetting his wedding anniversary.

an eye-opener

The film on global warming was a real eye-opener for Tom.

let off steam

Ted plays squash when he needs to let off steam.

read between the lines

You can figure out the author’s opinion by reading between the lines.

go all out

We went all out and booked a five-star hotel for our trip.

out of line

Mark’s comment was out of line. He shouldn’t have said that to a client.

be on sb’s back

My manager is on my back about being at work on time.

would not be seen/caught dead

I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing an ugly dress like that.

have mixed feelings

Larry has mixed feelings about his new job.

draw a blank

When asked for her postal code, Amy drew a blank.

You name it.

A: Daddy, can I have anything on the menu?

B: Sure. You name it, you got it.

know your stuff

Jim has been a mechanic for 20 years. He really knows his stuff.

left, right and centre

Businesses were closing in town left, right and centre.

a change of heart

After seeing a mouse on the floor, I had a change of heart about eating at the restaurant.

a long haul

Peter told his boss that he wouldn’t quit. He’s in it for the long haul.

be man enough

George was the only one man enough to admit he had made a mistake.

be second to none

The apple pie at this restaurant is second to none.

know/learn the ropes

It took me a month to learn the ropes at my new job.

a breath of fresh air

The new employee, Gail, is a breath of fresh air in the office.

get your act together

The coach told me that if I didn’t get my act together, I’d be kicked off the team.

set your heart on sth

Eric has his heart set on participating in the Olympics.

take sb/sth for granted

Keith took it for granted that his girlfriend would always stay with him. Then, one day, she was gone.

play it by ear

A: How long will you stay in Australia?

B: I’m not sure. I’m just going to play it by ear.

put all your eggs in one basket

Greg invested his money in a few different areas. He didn’t want to put all his eggs in one basket.

Birds of a feather (flock together)

A: It’s funny that all of Kate’s friends are attractive.

B: So is she. I guess birds of a feather flock together.

have second thoughts

I’m starting to have second thoughts about my new apartment.

pay the price for

Don’t touch my stuff. If you do, you’ll pay the price.

a basket case

Darryl’s ex-wife is a total basket case.

on the dot

We arrived at 8 o’clock on the dot.

not have a clue

I don’t have a clue where Nunavut is.

have a shot at

Our team has a shot at winning the championship.

the word spread

It took only an hour for word to spread around the office that John had been fired.

safe and sound

I arrived home from my trip safe and sound.

be a pain (in the neck)

My brother is a real pain in the neck sometimes.

be in the same boat

The governments of Portugal and Greece are in the same boat. They both need financial assistance.

be/feel at home

After two years, James felt at home in Prague.

be in sb’s good books

Ryan is not in his father’s good books right now because he scratched his car.

get out of bed on the wrong side

I’d avoid talking with Bob today. He must’ve got out of bed on the wrong side.

up-and-coming

Roger is an up-and-coming hockey player from Toronto.

get into gear

You’d better get into gear or you’ll be late.

out of the blue

One day, out of the blue, I received a letter from my former schoolmate.

set the record straight

In a TV interview, the politician set the record straight about his experiences in the military.

keep an eye on

The security guard kept an eye on the suspicious man.

a grey area

Because of a grey area in his job description, Peter was not exactly sure what all of his responsibilities were.

get/let sb off the hook

Luckily for her, the policeman let Jane off the hook for parking her car in a no-parking zone.

out of sight, out of mind.

Jim was happy when his ex-girlfriend moved out of his apartment -- out of sight, out of mind.

give sb the cold shoulder

Ted gave his ex-girlfriend the cold shoulder when he saw her at the party.

The ins and outs

It took Alan a year to learn all the ins and outs of his job.

line of work

The fireman said that injuries were common in his line of work.

make do

I forgot to buy groceries so I had to make do with what was left in the fridge.

get sth off your chest

A: Keith, there’s something I need to get off my chest.

B: What’s bothering you? Tell me.

know sth like the back of your hand

Takeshi knows the streets of Kyoto like the back of his hand.

in the bag

After scoring their fourth goal, the victory was in the bag.

be on the ball

Greg isn’t on the ball today. He keeps making silly mistakes.

off and on / on and off

Tara and Mike have been seeing each other off and on for a year now.

for the time being

I plan to move into my own apartment in September. For the time being, I’m staying with friend Doug.

burn your bridges

Jack tried to be kind to his boss when he quit in job because he didn’t want to burn his bridges.

get/be given the sack / sack (verb)

Alan got the sack for repeatedly coming into work late.

on the back burner

The project was put on the back burner while the company focused on a more immediate problem.

get cold feet

It’s normal to get cold feet before your wedding day.

hit rock bottom

After being fired and then kicked out of his apartment, Jake really hit rock bottom.

talk shop

Everyone agreed not to talk shop at the staff party.

start/get the ball rolling

It’s time we start the ball rolling on the new project.

get your foot in the door

Janice took a position as an administrative assistant to get her foot in the door at the famous fashion company.

well-off / well-to-do

Lloyd comes from a well-to-do family. His friends often ask to borrow money from him.

pull your weight

Lisa had to work extra hard because a few members of the team weren’t pulling their weight.

a gut feeling

I have a gut feeling that something bad is going to happen today.

if need be

If need be, we can take a taxi home.

in the middle of nowhere

Their car broke down in the middle of nowhere.

go with the flow

Jake didn’t want to go to another bar, but everyone else did, so he went with the flow.

play your cards right

If Linda plays her cards right, she could be the department manager by next year.

follow in sb’s footsteps

Bill chose to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a dentist.

have your heart set on sth

Alan has his heart set on participating in the 2020 Olympics.

You can say that again!

A: I met your boss today. He’s a real jerk.

B: You can say that again!

I’m all ears

A: Doug, I’ve discovered the meaning of life.

B: Really? I’m all ears.

small talk

After some small talk, the interview began.

put sth on hold

Greg had to put his weekend plans on hold and go into the office on Saturday for a few hours.

common ground

The two boys had some common ground: they both loved football.

politically (in)correct

Marcel told a politically incorrect joke at the company party. No one laughed.

have had it up to here

“I’ve had it up to here with this mess! Clean your room now!”

have your work cut out

If we want to finish this by Friday, then we’ve really got our work cut out for us.

get the picture

A: The fight was horrible. One man kept punching the other again and again and again--

B: OK. That’s enough. I get the picture.

see eye to eye

Mike and his father don’t see eye to eye on the issue of abortion.

call it a day

It’s already 6 pm. Let’s call it a day.

twist sb’s arm

I really had to twist my sister’s arm to get her to pick me up from the airport.

bring sth to light

The report brought some previously unknown facts to light about the causes of cancer.

be in the dark / keep sb in the dark

Most of the employees were kept in the dark about the merger until the last minute.

go up in smoke

After breaking his leg, Darryl’s dream to play professional hockey went up in smoke.

go downhill

After his wife divorced him, Victor’s life really went downhill.

at your fingertips

With the World Wide Web, people have a vast amount of information at their fingertips.

poke fun at

The kids poked fun at George because he was wearing his t-shirt backwards.

Easier said than done.

A: You should get a girlfriend who’s beautiful AND kind. B: Easier said than done.

the bottom line

A: Doctor, what’s the bottom line? B: If you don’t quit smoking, you’ll die within a year.

call the shots

The boss told Janet to call the shots while he was away.

know/learn sth by heart

Hank knows every Elvis song by heart.

get a move on

If we don’t get a move on, we’ll miss the bus.

miss the point

“You missed the point. The book was about the problems of capitalism, not how to make money.”

hold/stand your ground

Although their enemy outnumbered them, the soldiers stood their ground.

be child’s play

The tennis match was child’s play for Ben.

be only a matter of time

The scientist said it’s only a matter of time before a big earthquake hits California.

push your luck

A: Dad, can I have another ice cream cone?

B: Don’t push your luck, kid.

raise (a few) eyebrows

Francine’s short skirt raised a few eyebrows.

a matter of opinion

The best restaurant in Europe is, of course, a matter of opinion.

be that as it may

A: Tyler is such a selfish guy.

B: Be that as it may, he’s your brother. You have to love him.

if/when push comes to shove

If push comes to shove, I’ll be here to support you.

against your better judgement

Against his better judgement, Jim let his friend drive home drunk.

add insult to injury

To add insult to injury, Greg’s wife left him for his best friend.

the last straw

When the boss told me to come in to work on Saturday, that was the last straw.

be up in the air

Jim’s vacation plans were still up in the air.

not have the faintest/foggiest idea

I don’t have the faintest idea where Wollongong is.

the icing on the cake

Paula enjoyed the concert, and getting to meet the artist backstage after the show was the icing on the cake.

get/jump/leap on the bandwagon

Janet doesn’t normally watch hockey but she jumped on the bandwagon because her city’s team was in the playoffs.

the fine/small print

My father reads the fine print on every contract he signs.

stuck/be in a rut

The singer was stuck in a rut. All of her recent songs sounded the same.

run-of-the-mill

Kate is a waitress at a run-of-the-mill bar and restaurant in London.

face the music

Tina knew that one day her parents would see her tattoo and then she’d have to face the music.

to keep sth/sb at bay

Bodyguards kept the reporters at bay while the movie stars entered the theatre.

be up in arms

People were up in arms [about/over] the government’s plan to raise the retirement age.

bite your tongue

Jack bit his tongue while his manager criticized his performance.

leave a lot to be desired

The design of our office building leaves a lot to be desired.

off the beaten track

Mike and Mary had dinner a quiet restaurant off the beaten track in Paris.

pick sb’s brains

Mike is a marketing genius. People often invite him to lunch or dinner so they can pick his brains.

whet your appetite

The 30-second trailer was designed to whet people’s appetites.

sour grapes

A: People with nice cars just want attention.

B: That sounds like sour grapes because you can’t afford one.

a blessing in disguise

Losing his job turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Afterwards, Roger found his dream job.

give sb the benefit of the doubt

I told the teacher that it wasn’t me who broke the window. Thankfully, he gave me the benefit of the doubt.

jog sb’s memory

Jeff said he couldn’t remember the song’s lyrics, but hearing the first few words jogged his memory.

foot the bill

George agreed to foot the bill for dinner.

have it in for sb

A: Why are you hiding from your brother? B: He has it in for me. He knows I lost his football.

be in the red

The company has been in the red since September.

get/catch wind of sth

Once the school principal caught wind of the problem, she called a teachers’ meeting.

a rule of thumb

As a rule of thumb, I don’t eat food that smells bad.

be on the same wavelength

The group members were all on the same wavelength, so they were able to finish their project quickly.

up to speed

After her holiday, it took Kate a few hours to get back up to speed on the recent developments in her company.

play devil’s advocate

Although Jim is against the death penalty, he told his friend he was for it just to play devil’s advocate.

bend/lean over backwards

Lisa bent over backwards to get her brother a job in her company, so she was surprised to learn he quit today.

pass the buck

The politician passed the buck onto someone else instead of accepting responsibility for the problem.

call sb’s bluff

When Mike heard his friend say she knew all of the world’s capitals, he called her bluff and asked her to name the capital of Mozambique.

have a chip on your shoulder

Tim has had a chip on his shoulder about businesswomen since he lost his job to a woman three years ago.

breathe down sb’s neck

Jim found it hard to focus on his work with his boss breathing down his neck.

climb to the top of the career/corporate ladder

Having children can be an obstacle for women who want to climb (to the top of) the corporate ladder.

red tape

Mark’s visa application was held up for six months because of red tape.

Give sb free rein

When his father died, Mark was given free rein to do whatever he liked with the family business.

the be-all-and-end-all

Getting into Harvard Law School became the be-all-and-end-all of Tony’s existence.

blow sth out of proportion

The media blew the story out of proportion.

take the plunge

Jerry has finally decided to take the plunge. Tomorrow he’ll start looking for a full-time office job.

in a bind

Susan is really in a bind. She has two essays due tomorrow and she hasn't started either of them.

break the ice

At the start of the meeting, Mike tried to break the ice by telling a joke.

bury the hatchet

Susan and Mike agreed that it was time to bury the hatchet. They apologized and decided to be friends.

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