I've been wanting to draw him again lately-

So, how we feeling Vegaspete Nation? Because I don’t know about all y’all, but I’m still completely normal about Vegas and Pete and their sex scene and am in no way re-watching it at least half a dozen times a day in a feral fugue state. COMPLETELY NORMAL.

I suspect this can’t be contained in a single post, but for now, here’s just some of the things that make me feral about this scene:

1. The way they make sure to show us the tattoo, to emphasize that message, no legacy is so rich as honesty, right up front, just as they’re getting into it, finally all masks off, all armor off. Oh, Vegas tried to put that mask back on, for sure – they even explicitly mark this with the moment he wipes the tears off his face, like he’s almost literally pulling a mask back on, and you can see him put up his armor just before he looks up at Pete, before he goes on the attack again, in a way that’s always been guaranteed to make Pete cringe away from him before this, when Pete will stand his ground against violence, and it’s maybe his last effort to give Pete the option to escape, this attempt to push him away. But then Pete ends up grabbing him and kissing the mask right back off his face. I feel like maybe you weren’t actually expecting that, Vegas, didn’t think you’d ever get it. After all, everyone and everything leaves you. (Or dies, which. Hm. Are we going to see how fear of Pete’s possible death influences your actions at any upcoming point?)

2. The way Vegas, that motherfucker, always always goes me one better than I expect. Before this aired, if you had asked me what I wanted out of my dream Vegaspete sex scene, two of the key things I would have told you were face-to-face and Vegas going down on Pete. I was just thinking a BJ would be fine and acceptable, and then that motherfucker gets on his knees behind Pete and eats him out so good he has Pete licking his own arm. I can’t. I CANNOT. I shrieked and slapped both hands over my mouth, and they were only getting started.

3. Pete wrapping those chains around his own gorgeous wrists and hanging on for dear life as Vegas eats him out so good he has Pete licking his own arm. Pete, baby. DO NOT let this man get away. Not if his tongue is that talented.

4. Face-to-face. Face-to-face. Watching each other, seeing each other the whole time, just like they’ve been gradually seeing and learning each other in the whole lead-up to this.

5. The whole thing is just stunningly intimate. And I emphasize both those words for a reason. Because it’s almost more intimate than it is sexual – no, you know what? I’m going to actually stake out that ground and make a stand on it. It IS even more intimate than it is sexual. And it continues to – even after watching it literally half a dozen times a day, every day, since it first aired – leave me stunned every time I watch it. And that’s the effect of so many many small choices that add up, like slowing it down, which draws everything out, as well as contributing to a fever-haze that turns up the temperature on it. Like having Vegas, who could so easily continue to stay standing above Pete as he fucks him, instead lying fully down on him, pressing as much of himself as close as he possibly can get, like he can get even closer than being inside Pete, like he can somehow make them merge into one, so that every feeling, sound, scent, taste, is heightened, is not only fully engaged but overwhelming, so that there’s nothing outside the two of them. Like the way Vegas is always either looking at Pete’s face or has his own face tucked into Pete’s neck, keeping his focus narrowed to Pete, so that Pete becomes his entire world. The kisses, my god, the kisses, and how soft they are, and how Vegas kisses Pete repeatedly, and how gd tender he is, and how Pete pushes up into the kisses like he’s savoring them, in comparison to the way he just laid there for the pill.

6. What it must mean to Vegas, when Pete surrenders control to him. He’s just finished telling Pete what a fuckup he is, always second-best, how he can never manage to succeed or do anything right, how everything he touches dies, and Pete looks up at him, no masks, and tells him, I trust you, you’re not incompetent, I believe you can do this, you can take care of me, you can give me what I need - wordlessly, just by handing him that rope. No fucking wonder Vegas kissed Pete’s hands like the most precious thing in the world had just been placed into his own hands. Also, that was a challenge from Pete, and Vegas rose to meet it beautifully.

7. OK, wait, I’m not even done with that moment yet. I have to. Just. Hold on and let me go take a walk around the block for a minute to TRY TO WORK OFF SOME OF THIS MF’ING HIGH so I can try to be coherent … OK, just the pure fucking fact of Pete offering up his wrists to be bound, and then Vegas – that motherfucker once again going me one better than I ever, ever expected – pressing a kiss to Pete’s knuckles not just in pleasure, not just in reassurance, but in WORSHIP. That moment, more than anything else in this scene – although also everything else about Vegas in this scene – confirmed for me that, as I’ve suspected since the discussion @black-flame-rose and I had about his Santa Muerte shrine, Vegas treats actual BDSM activity not only as separate from his torture and wetwork, but as sacred.

8. Meanwhile, can we talk about Build for a minute? Let’s talk about Build for a minute. I don’t know wtf kind of filters and lighting they’re using to film him for this, because sure, he’s an attractive guy, but Pete in this scene, like the pill scene, is almost otherworldly. I really think they’re shooting him differently somehow than they are for run-of-the-mill Pete scenes (I mean, for whatever value of “run-of-the-mill” a regular Pete scene can be). But I also think some of it is actually Build and his acting, something about the way he’s using his face and expressions in moments when Pete is just watching Vegas, or just talking to Vegas, utterly focused on Vegas, alone with Vegas, whether that’s literal or the world has narrowed to just the two of them, like in the face-off scene at the end of Ep 10, when the minor family goons might as well not have even been in the room – when Build is showing us Pete without his mask. And just like the face-off scene at the end of Ep 10, I can’t manage to look away from him here. I have to rewind and re-watch to remind myself to look at Bible – at Bible. And I think that’s at least partially intentional, I do think Pete’s the focus of this scene, they’ve done a lot to make sure our attention is just as focused on him as Vegas’s attention is, lighting Build’s face and putting him in a lot of direct shots, while they keep Bible shaded, or in silhouette, and halfway – or more – out of frame, or the focus of a lot of the off-kilter shots. And that could make Vegas come across as creepy – maybe it’s supposed to come across as sorta creepy? This faceless man in the shadows – if it wasn’t for how attentive and tender and worshipful Vegas is at every single point of this, once Pete kisses him and pulls off that mask, but particularly once Pete offers himself up along with that rope. Every bit of Vegas’s attention is on Pete throughout this scene, constantly checking in – not verbally, but studying his face, his expressions, the way his body moves, the way he responds to the kisses Vegas keeps going back to – god, the kisses, we only kiss people we like, Pete, and you keep chasing his kisses.

9. Also, let me just pull this out as its own special mention: The tiny, momentary look of amazed pleasure Pete gives Vegas specifically at 30:00, as Vegas gets his rhythm going.

10. Anyway, further to a lot of those off-kilter shots - along with the music they chose and the continued use of the obviously theatrical lighting – I mean, even in Vegas’s at-home torture dungeon, they made an attempt at making the lighting look diagetic, but there’s not even a thought of that here in the bedroom at Torture Sex Dungeon South, which heightens the feeling that none of this is real, it is (like, hah, sacred space) a time out of time and a space out of space, its own little bubble where Vegas and Pete have been constructing their own reality, where the normal rules and roles and expectations don’t apply, where they’ve slowly chipped away at all those things until they’re standing figuratively as well as literally (now) naked in front of each other – and now I’ve lost track of what I was saying. What was I even saying? Oh, so these off-kilter shots, the music, the lighting – they give this an even more heightened sense of unreality, of being drunk or drugged, of being stoned off your ass on endorphins, the way Pete obviously is when he’s at the point of licking his own arm, like they’re fucking in the middle of their own private rave or something. Plus, again, they’ve slowed the action down, which also heightens the feeling of unreality – as well as a vague sense of unease that … OK. I’ve seen people refer to these two as a potential Hades/Persephone story, and I don’t know that this maps perfectly, but this scene? Yeah. I’ve done a lot of thinking about Hades and Persephone and the various iterations of their mythos, and one of the key ways I approach their traditional story is as a coming of age story. Ann Suter, in The Narcissus and the Pomegranate, talks about that approach (among others) and points out that everything was set in motion by Persephone reaching out to pluck that flower. And I’ve thought a lot about that as a metaphor for the way, when we’re teenaged girls, we’re so ready to be grown-up, we’re reaching out for it in so many different ways, and that can make us do a lot of things that are daring, and dangerous, and objectively pretty damn dumb, and can get us in way over our heads, into situations that we never expected, new situations that are just as scary as they may be exhilarating, that could turn out badly but that sometimes manage to help us unlock new discoveries about ourselves and the world around us, and this scene captures that feeling - of reaching out for something that you think you want, of falling into something half-unexpected that you think you’re ready for, but where you end up halfway over your head, and it’s scary and dangerous and exhilarating and all you can do is ride it through - better than almost anything I’ve ever seen before.

11. Also re: a lot of the off-kilter shots, I think it’s an interesting way to fuck with traditional expectations of how power works in a situation like this, and the ways that’s usually represented visually - the almost swirling, restless motion of the camera that somehow never feels choppy even with the myriad changing angles captures power flow back and forth. I feel like the last time we see anything approaching a traditional power framing is the point at which Pete is sitting on the bed, looking up at Vegas and giving him the rope, and Vegas is standing above Pete taking it. After that, we naturally get some shots in which he’s on top of Pete, but I feel like most of the more traditional camerawork with Vegas on top of/above Pete takes place during the point where he’s plastered himself to Pete in an attempt to crawl inside him, with the heightened intimacy they build being the overwhelming effect of those shots. By contrast, I feel like they do a LOT of the very off-kilter stuff at the points when Vegas is still standing, and I’m particularly interested in the shots where Vegas would normally look most dominant and potentially threatening, backlit and mainly in silhouette, standing between the spread legs of a reclining, naked, bound Pete as Vegas pushes down his own pants and then again as he puts on the condom. These two shots are the most pronounced off-kilter ones, literally sideways, in a way that ensures that Vegas and Pete are essentially presented horizontally, on the same level. We get a more traditional framing in a third shot as Vegas pushes into Pete, but he’s already leaning over Pete on his way to lying on top of him in that shot, so he’s not standing above him in quite the same way he is in the other two shots in this sequence.

12. Finally, nrgh. The way Vegas’s hands cradle Pete’s face and his arms during this, the way that mirrors the way Pete’s thighs cradle Vegas’s flanks and the way not only the bondage they’ve got Pete in but also the slowed-down motion of the shots turn Vegas’s thrusts into more of a rocking motion, so they’re just rocking together, suspended in their own little cocoon of reality that’s more real than actual reality, with its masks and its roles and its expectations, but also totally separate from actual reality.

I thought they’d killed me before this, but it turns out that was only target practice.

Edited lmao: warning this is kinda pointless and alot of farfetched theory and a veryyy long post please read at your own risk 🤡

Edit again: my analysis when I started it 1 month ago: 👩‍💼🖨️📇✒️🖋️✏️

My post now: 🤡🤡🤡🕯️🕯️🤡

Edit: I started writing this like ages ago but I don't see my own point with this writting and I'm editing it after reading @nini14 's Ackerman breaking the cycle analysis and I feel like both of these go hand in hand. So without further ado:

Triangles

Let's see as we all are made aware that aot significantly revolves around trios of friends such as the following :

Although these are the main trios that is noticeable, other trios can be made out by taking some characters from their original trios to make trios based on looks / character and dynamics. And this is where my argument comes in with this trio:

Their dynamic has always been mother father and son. Now let me explain, idk if anyone has heard about the drama triangle but here

These terms can be applied to MLE trio, Levi being the persecutor, Mikasa is the rescuer and the victim being Eren. In the first 3 seasons at least, Eren was being taken away and his decisions constently put him in danger, Levi being the persecutor who always gives Eren what he deserves for being a pain the ass and Mikasa being the rescuer always siding with Eren and protecting him no matter what. Do you see it?

This is Mikasa to a T.

The following is an example of the dad being the rescuer and the son "junior" being a victim, and much like Eren, could possibly refuse the hand that is helping him.

So that being said now that we have an understanding of their dynamics in the relationship, let's get back to understanding a triangle. Did you know triangles are one of the strongest shape because it has three sides that rely on each other hence shifting their energies on to each side and it makes the perfect shape for a bridge, architectures favourite. Why am I tell you this?

Because these dynamics that every trio is made up of in aot is because they have strong relationships.

Someone mentioned isayama loves putting move triangles and I couldn't help but agree, look at how many times he has placed Eren historia and an angry Mikasa? And subtly he has always ( to me at least) hinted the love triangle between Levi Mikasa and Eren, outside of their father-mother-son dynamic. Personally this makes sense to me the most, fueled by mikasa's dream. A choice was there to make and she unknowingly chose Levi.

Now this brings me to the death of all the trios Levi has been part of, from Isabel & Farlan to hanjo & Erwin to where we are now. Our situation before S4 was EMA+Levi = 4 people but we all know that a square isn't as strong as a triangle so something shifted. Eren, even with him in it Armin and him were more connected as for Levi and Mikasa as a pair it was more obvious. Especially in the conversation EMA had in that stare place as depicted on @gilly-bj 's analysis on similarities between rivamika and Mika's parents. Not only was Mikasa placed directly next to Levi although being feets apart in reality but her lines "another conversation only you two understand" it. Visually and verbally divided Mikasa from Eren and Armin and connected her to Levi. Both alone.

Yet another triangle placed by isayama intentionally or not is Armin Mikasa and Levi.

Because a triangle represents the process of recycle and reuse it also represent the cycle of life, an on going thing that doesn't stop, a history that repeats itself. And going back to Ackerman finally breaking this cycle of tragic fate, will they?

The fact that the whole manga series start at chapter 0 is very suspicious in it self. Why does it isyamaa? A 0, a circle that comes back around? A 0 which represents both the ending and the beginning? Why is the 1st chapter called "to you, 2000 years from now"? ( That's such a fucking impactful chapter name gives me chills )

Before my theory start I just wanna add that the story started from a narrative perspective makes me wanna believe in rivamika even more. Did eldians share the same fate in 2000 years? Who knows, but I know for sure Erens and mikasa's dynamic as the impulsive hotheaded doer and their protective calm but strong friend thinker will continue forever just like the never ending triangles.

I forgot all these ppls names on chaoter 0 so PLS bare with me.

The main dude who heavily resembles Mikasa even tho he is a man, has a incredible power just like the Ackerman's as a human AND he can shift into a titan???? Last time I checked weren't Ackerman's the bio product of titans? Remember is science is on a ongoing journey and forever progressing towards the impossible ;)

Hmmm

The little girl who resembles Gabi, who has the same dynamic as Eren, the girl also looks up to his inhumanly powers, a little too much alike Eren's idolisation of Levi ( and looking up to Mikasa's strength I think )?

Lastly, chapter 0 makes me believe it was set in the future. Look at the buildings, 2 story buildings I don't remember seeing buildings like this in the pre time skip era have you? I could be wrong tho.

If Isayama is as smart as we think he is then he might have related this chapter to the whole plot of aot. 🤷 Or it could mean something. And here's where my theory comes in and it may not be the most favourable for eldians. Let me start with the good part tho, the guy who looked like Mikasa is could be a descendant from the Ackerman clan, but he isn't half and half like Mikasa and Levi, he's full blooded. Which might be why he has the power to shift ( idk this kinda don't make sense since Mikasa and Levi can't buy hush )

So let's say rivamika got married had a family they always wanted and had the peaceful life and 2000 years from then this guy^ existed. Oddly familiar to great great great grammakasa 💀💀.

The cycle never ended for eldians, the whole world could still be mad at them for Erens action and has the prejudice against them for a long time. And the fact that they can shift is never going to change even 2000 years in the future. And the guy ( omg I keep calling him the guy cause I literally can not be bothered figuring out his name ) who lives in a far more developed society with richer civilization within the wall. It could be possible that Ymir or someone erased the eldians memories ONCE AGAIN after the rumbling ended. Because Mikasa levi weren't effected they probably were excused and got to live as they pleased. This dude is also the reason why I believe isayama does not consider the Ackerman's as side characters at all. In the end the story might have actually started with them, alluding to "the ending is just the beginning" as said by kingsama himself. ( Wtf am I saying lol )

So yeah in conclusion as I said yes story is weirdly really influenced by a large amount of triangles and loops. And yes ackerman probably would break the cycle of death after all living through hell fighting hell all for what? If not recreating into a heaven, giving it new life. I do believe in rivamika living the life they are destined for with each other but eldians fate might just be too tragic for me to see them as truly free people who gets to roam around outside the walls as they please.

I guess my point is that everything that goes around will come around, that will bring good karma for the Ackerman's and maybe a repeation of the past for the rest of the world. 😩😩 I think I fully somehow believe Eren is gone for good. Unless isayama draws him waking up from a long dream on his bed then 💀👀👀 I will throw myself away.

Thank you for reading 💞 once again I'm so sorry this post isn't as good as I'd like it to be I am sleep deprived right now and it isn't worded as well as of like it to be. But hope my delulu ness was enjoyable at least. ✌️💀

Manifest Destiny

Pairings: Dark!Stucky x Dark!Reader Warnings:  18+, non/con, sex pollen, lab experiments, kidnapping, stucky bj, female masturbation, minor mention of death. Summary: Reader invents sex pollen, selfish relationship issues w/ her boyfriends, breaking up is hard to do Word Count: 8.2k a/n: This was written for the ever-sweet and incredibly welcoming @imanuglywombat​   The Ugliest Wombat Challenge. She’s an amazing writer- Congrats on your 1.7k! Thank you for hosting!

Prompts: Desert and Mountain Moodboards-

It’s odd, the revelations and ideas you come up with when your mouth’s filled with cock.

“Take it.”

“B-Bucky, wait-”

“Don’t whine, you’re ready,” Bucky panted above you, “you feel good enough to me.”

Bucky's hips connected painfully into yours as your back dug into the table, “Be good- take Steve in your little mouth, baby girl.”

His hands cemented around your waist while you lay haphazardly across the small kitchen table; the back of your neck hit the table’s edge with every sharp snap of Bucky’s hips.

Steve murmured your name drawing your attention to him. Looking up, Steve loomed over you stroking himself, balls knocking against his fist as he slid his hand down his shaft. Standing with his legs apart, Steve’s figure jarred in and out of your vision as Bucky used your body.

“Open.” Steve was in your vision.

“Now.” Steve was out of your vision.

Bucky pushed in and out of you greedily; vision jerking, neck snapping.

“Hurry up,” Steve tsked impatiently, annoyed you didn’t automatically know what he wanted. Guilt fell down upon you when your compliance wasn’t fast enough. “Convince me you’re not selfish. Show me how grateful you are for us, sweetheart.”

The table scrapped against the floor as Bucky ground into you deeper and harshly twisted your leg higher on his shoulder. You yelped when your neck snapped against the table’s corner.

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me,” Steve dipped his knees and moved himself closer to your lips. “Drop your head. More. More goddammit. Now- relax that throat, sweetheart. Yeah. Just like that. Fuck- feel so good. Wanna see my dick fill up that smooth throat of yours.” He laid his large hand down along the column of your neck as Bucky’s deep thrusts caused your body to rock up and meet against Steve’s open palm. Steve tightened his hold around your expanding neck, smirking when he felt himself slide deeper in you beneath his palm, “You owe us for being ungrateful. Don’t ever keep us waiting, sweetheart.”

They left for a mission the next morning, a year later you were gone.

Twelve months ago / first day away: The flash hit your eyes before the sound erupted in your ears. Shock delayed your reaction time. Your arms shot out in front of your face but you were too late to duck away from the table top’s explosion. The ceiling extinguishers released, followed by the air duct vacuums removing any traces of smoke and fog in the lab. Pulling yourself together, you recited the chemicals and amounts mixed shortly before the mini-detonation. The corners were singed on the formula’s trial and error notebook, one notebook of many that helped track your successful and unsuccessful runs. When you shakily flipped over a sheet to write down the amounts that wouldn’t be combined again, you saw it. In the reflection of a container, you were missing an eyebrow. The boys left before dawn this morning, departing for an estimated seven-month deep mission. There would be no communication with their handler unless an extreme emergency arose, meaning death. An absolute rule of no messages or check-ins to outside parties, meaning you. At least under the forced silent conditions, you wouldn’t have to find a way to hide your missing eyebrow. You wouldn’t have to listen to them bemoan and force you to stay out of a dangerous lab. Their “reluctance” to go was felt by everyone in the building but thankfully for you, Fury said there was no other option. Their storm of distaste for leaving you unattended, and free to roam out from under their thumb, had everyone counting down the days to their departure. You were used to their anger and shortness, but this long absence would be a blessing. Your time would be yours and you’d be able to work freely on your experiments. You wouldn’t have to convince the boys that they were your number one priority, while missing an eyebrow.

Eleven months ago / first month away: You rolled over and stretched, legs twisting out and around the soft comforter- flaying your limbs across the wide bed, claiming any and all space. A giggle escaped you as you rolled your body over to the far left side of the bed, only to roll yourself back over to the opposite side. Laughing harder when you realized there were no consequences if you accidentally woke up a sleeping super soldier. You rolled over once more just because you could. You fixed the bed the night before, a small act of deviance when you tucked the corner of the newly purchased sheets under the mattress. The same set of sheets you were outnumbered on buying earlier. Grabbing a pillow, you flipped yourself over to the foot of the bed and turned on the television you put in the bedroom last month. Resting your chin on the pillow, you wiggled your toes under the throw pillows at the head of the bed. You inhaled deeply and enjoyed the pleasant detergent fragrance, you could hardly register their scent anymore. A late morning of watching tasteless shows of your own choosing; you couldn’t wait to bring in leftovers and eat them in bed between the new covers.

Ten months ago / second month away: The tower floors were quiet, peacefully so. Even the inanimate objects seemed to breathe easier without super soldiers dictating about. You came and went at all hours to the lab or outside to grab food. Sometimes you went for short walks when you needed time for your ideas to ferment. The freedom and fewer restrictions were new at first, leaving you hesitant and feeling guilty for enjoying them. But slowly, it became easier to indulge. It was a treat to only having to be concerned about yourself and your wants and desires. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Bucky and Steve, they gave what they could. Or rather more accurately, they gave what they wanted. But it was a relationship built on their terms. Their needs and wishes- those came first. The boys provided what they thought was needed in a relationship, but it was restricted to what you felt was essential. They’d give you the shirt off their backs, but then tell you how to wear it. Bruce noticed your newfound sense of self first, the looseness in your shoulders and no more worry-filled glances at clocks. He didn’t want to say you smiled more when your boyfriends were away, but he noticed more enjoyment and excitement in you.

Nine months ago / third month away: Staring at the computer screen in disbelief, a laugh stuttered out of you. It was coming together, the formula. You were meant to create this. The idea that once formed in your head as a fleeting sarcastic notion- how to make sex more enjoyable and ready your body quicker for intercourse- lead you here. However, it became a bit more sinister with Steve and Bucky’s influence. In the beginning, the idea was only to assist you in finding more pleasure and to be ready for whenever they wanted it. Now the idea grew into something that would drive the subject into a state of painful, distracting lust until one was able to achieve an euphoric release. Something that would fully consume the users and allow another a window of opportunity in that chaotic distraction. And it was slowly coming together.

Seven months ago / fifth month away: Trials with subjects, successful: the rabbits were going at it like rabbits.

Six months ago / sixth month away: You accepted the offer. The chance at a taste of freedom and a sense of accomplishment made you agree immediately. The minor detail about temporarily relocating to the desert wasn’t a concern. You were looking forward to testing the formula further out west. SHIELD wanted more extensive experiments on your sex pollen idea, or as you called it, Dionysian. You would conduct more trails here and then proceed out to Groom Lake for more immersed testing in the SHIELD designated areas. Now you just needed to find a way to inform Bucky and Steve. But this, this was your destiny.

Five months ago / seventh month away: The boys were never a thought when you accepted the testing opportunity. But with their return approaching, you couldn't stop thinking about their reaction. You needed to rehearse your words when you’d sit them down to talk. You tried convincing yourself that they would hear you out. You tried convincing yourself that they’d understand this opportunity meant a great deal to you. They’d agree and encourage you to go, right? That’s what people offered each other in healthy relationships- encouragement, support. You, however, were not in a healthy relationship. And the thought of seeing them only made you uneasy and sick. You would be lying if you said they were missed. Depending on how you treated each other these next upcoming months, you might blaze your own trail without them. As the elevator climbed to your living quarters, your stomach twisted at the thought of telling them you’d be away; twisting at the thought of their anger. As the elevator doors opened to your floor, you decided you wouldn’t tell the boys that you already accepted the offer. Instead, you’d talk to them about a possibility of one, and then present it in a way that it’d seem as if they were giving you permission to go. Stepping into the hallway, you noticed utility bags thrown to the side. Shit. You didn’t realize they were back already. Seven months away and you were in a meeting instead of greeting them when they landed. How long have they been here? You walked into the bedroom and saw both men freshly showered, towels wrapped low around their waists. The three of you stood awkwardly in the silent bedroom. Scanning the room, you noticed the television missing and your new sheets ripped off the bed, crumpled on the floor.

Four months ago: The boys left for a three week mission and before they left again, things around the apartment were less than ideal. During an argument last month, you suggested about getting your own bedroom in the Tower. The boys didn’t appreciate that thought, edging you for a full night until you apologized for being inconsiderate. You sobbed during your climax, your body wrecked and colored with embarrassment. A lie and a promise passed your lips to them- you were sorry and you’d treat them how they deserved to be treated. Pulling out your notebook, you set up the timer and recorder and hooked up the body monitors. You nervously brought over a glass of water and pulled out the dropper for the liquid Dionysian. You’ve been trying to convince yourself to test it out, unwisely on yourself. Closing the notebook, you shook your head at your would-be actions. Don’t do this. But then glancing at your phone, the screen filled with missed texts from Steve and Bucky. Each bubble angrier than the last. “Where are you?” “Why are you keeping me waiting?” “You better answer Steve, baby girl.” “Text Bucky back right now, sweetheart.” “Do you need to learn your lesson again?” You threw your phone aside and turned on the recorder. One drop of Dionysian in the water, you drank and waited for a reaction. This was a last resort, but you needed to be prepared just in case. You decided that before taking your leave out west, you’d try your hardest to work with them and determine if it was possible to miss them. For now, you’d try to be how they wanted you to be and see if this was the future you’d actually want for yourself. You'd try to be their good girl. Maybe there was something salvageable for you three. But if nothing could be saved, you’d be prepared. Your next three weeks would be filled with testing and orgasms while the boys were away.

Three months ago: “There’s talk of an opportunity,” you started shyly across the table. “No.” A set of deep voices cut off any further discussion, silverware crashing against the plates. “But it would only be for a few months away, and I’d get to further my research. You should hear all the new breakthroughs we’re having with this formula. It’s beyond impressive. It’d really be a great tool out in the field. The fact alone that it would keep the target so incapacitated, too preoccupied to achieve relief, one could escape easily and put several hours of distance between them and other operatives,” you pleaded for them to listen. Why couldn’t they just listen? You listened to them- helped them achieve their goals. When did this relationship turn into something less for you? Why did you allow it to turn that way? “Buck said no-” “Steve said no-” Simultaneously conjoined sentences of dismissiveness sailed across the table at you. That hurt, but you weren’t about to give up easily. You excelled too far in your career, achieved too much in the lab for your boyfriends to shut you up. “With more testing, we could really extend the release time and keep the subjects immobilized, maybe up to 12 hours, hell, maybe even longer. I mean, just depending on the concentrated amounts of what would be administered. Wait, I need to write this down,” you excitedly pushed the chair away from the table with the intention to get your notepad. “You better be only getting up to bring us back a slice of the apple pie you baked earlier, sweetheart.” You shut your eyes at Steve’s warning, your shoulders tensed at his commanding tone as you tried memorizing your ideas to record later. “I’ll take an extra slice tonight, baby girl,” Bucky handed his plate over with a wink. Collecting Steve’s dish also, you reminded yourself to remain calm. They’re not selfish, they love you. They do care about you, they’re just reluctant to share you. You would try another time.

Two months ago: Sweaty bodies on either side of you, tired and loose from the orgasms given and received. Panting breaths slowed as lazy hands drew circles on your hips. “There’s a chance for a promotion…” “Keep talking and I’ll stick my dick back in your mouth,” Bucky grumbled. “Quiet, sweetheart.” Steve chided and slapped the side of you thigh, “Stop trying to ruin the moment, it’s not polite,” Another time then.

One month ago: “There’s interviews being held in the next couple days for-” “Not this again,” Steve cursed. “Why aren’t you happy? What could it possibly be that causes you to be so fucking miserable here with us?” “We thought you were happy. Are you lying to us?” questioned Bucky. You couldn’t be sure if there was menace in his words. His eyes were sharper though, you couldn’t deny the warning slowly brewing in them. You picked your next words carefully, but a part of you knew they’d never be the right ones said, “…I am happy. I care for you both, so much. But it’d be only five months at the most and only three away for certain. I mean, you both had a mission that lasted seven months with no communication. And with me there, we could still talk everyday. It’s only a temporary relocation. I’d be by area51, so it’s well-guarded. Maria said I’d be able to talk and skype when I’m away from the labs, I could call you in the evenings. Plus, SHIELD has their own designated areas there- I’d be with our people. Please. Let me do this for my research. Please, Steve. Please, Bucky. It’d mean so much to be able to test out there with more free range-” “-You care for both of us?!” Bucky cut in, cold impatience in his voice as he said your name. It was as if he never heard you say anything else after that line. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean, baby girl?” “Now, Bucky- easy,” Steve lazily placated him. Steve thought a little fear supplied by Bucky would do you good, maybe you needed help to reevaluate what was important in your life. Them. “I’m sure our girl didn’t mean it like that. I’m certain she didn’t want it to come across as awful and hurtful as it did. Am I right, sweetheart?” “Do you not fucking love us like we love you?” Bucky stepped closer with his accusation. “Of course, she loves us. Our little sweetheart wouldn’t dare hurt us like that. Would you?” Steve cupped your cheek and ran his thumb across your cheekbone. “She knows how much it’d physically hurt us, if she was away from us again. She knows how physically ill it made us- not being able to talk to her when we were gone all those months. The daily pain we were in for leaving her behind on that mission. That mission she brought up so casually, as if it was nothing.” Your lip trembled under Steve’s thumb but you kept your back straight. You created this formula from the ground up. You worked for this achievement. You needed them to be on your side, or out of your way. You were tired of being their cheerleader when they didn’t reciprocate. You wanted the chance to develop your own personal mission of success. “I remember,” you stilled your lip from trembling as Steve ran his thumb over your chin. I remember how much I do for you both, and how little you allow me to do for myself. “You better fucking prove how much you love us,” Bucky challenged as he unzipped his pants. Good cop, bad cop. You were running out of time.

---

The kitchen timer sounded, startling you as you hid the suitcases in the back of the closet. The scent of cinnamon and apples hung thickly in the air from the pie you pulled out the oven. Looking between the closest and homemade pie, spiced special for tonight, you were ready to leave for good.

---

“Would you like to know what’s going on with your bodies?” You watched the two men double over from the cramping, gripping the edge of the nearest piece of furniture. “Your bodies truly are superior, I’ve been fucked over enough times by you both to know. But still... I hope I administered enough for you, Steve. And I hope you didn’t get too much, Bucky,” you winked at them as Bucky grunted through another painful muscle contraction.

“What,” Steve panted as his stomach squeezed, “did you do?”

“Broke one of your rules, sweetest. Brought my work home with me. Gonna break a couple more, too. But at least you’ll have each other to help you through it. Because Steve... Bucky’s going to need your help.”

Bucky and Steve shot you glares between sucking in their breaths and squeezing their eyes shut through the increasing punch of stomach cramps.

A fake pout across your lips, you crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair, “What. No questions? No sharp words?”

The room filled with wheezing and coughing, the scent of their sweat started climbing in the air.

“I tell you, boy- I wasn’t expecting the silent treatment.”

Painful grunts and twisted moans echoed out of them.

“You two are boring. How’s this, blink twice if you need help,” you snickered louder when the boys growled out their anger. “Oh relax, babies,” you cooed with contempt. “The more you fight it, the more it’ll hurt. I made sure.”

“Fuck this,” Bucky rasped, “I’m burning up. Even my arm feels hot.”

Sweat beaded across Steve’s brow as he watched Bucky curl in around himself. Steve was miserable, but Bucky looked like shit.

“Let me see,” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s forehead. “Jesus, Buck. You’re on fire. What did you give him?” 

Steve tried to spin around at you, but Bucky caught Steve’s hand and pulled it back on his forehead. “Hurts less when you touch me.”

“What?” Steve questioned, looking at Bucky’s sickly complexion.

“Just keep your hands on me, Steve. It hurts less.”

Steve cupped Bucky’s face before turning to you in horror, “What did you give him, y/n?!”

“Relax. I gave him the same thing I gave you, but porker here just ate more pie than you. Which by my estimations, your next heat wave should start kicking in soon. If not, there’s a chance tonight will get more interesting- and messy.”

Steve was about to scream out more questions when a fresh wave of pain hit him. He gritted through another contraction. It helped to touch, just like Bucky said, but he could still feel the pain slowly getting stronger. He also started feeling his dick getting harder. 

Steve risked a glance away from you to see Bucky’s pants painfully tented, “Steve, touch me more. I need you.”

“Better listen to him, Steve,” you sat down in a chair that was far enough away to enjoy the show.

“You’re in so much trouble when this shit wears off,” Steve gritted out, holding onto Bucky. He was torn between helping Bucky and locking you up.

“I’m taking the job, boys. I’m leaving shortly.”

“What? You can’t leave,” Bucky whirled his slumped over body to look at you. Hair wet against his forehead, sweat stained his shirt. “Fuck. Help me out.”

“I can take it and I am. You two are better for each other. I don’t want this anymore.”

Bucky howled, a painful mixture of trying to fight the sex pollen and realizing they were losing you.

“Goddammit,” Steve ground out in anger, his hand tightened on Bucky’s shoulder. He tried keeping himself upright, still attempting to touch Bucky and ease them both through another contraction. “You’re not fucking going anywhere. You’re mad, we get that. But right now- you better fucking help us out!”

“Help yourself!” you shouted back, rising up from the seat. “Fuck each other. That’s the secret. I can already see the precum on Bucky’s pants. Give each other a hand, literally. You’ll be helping one another for most of the night while I fly out.”

Bucky took a deep breath and lunged his body in your direction. He didn’t make it far. You only shook your head at them. Steve was in too much pain to grab Bucky, but at least Bucky managed to pathetically pull himself up to sit. This wasn’t playing out as gleefully as you thought it would. Instead, you were angry. Angry at them, angry at yourself.

Both men commanded, then pleaded for you two stay with them again, “Baby girl.” “Sweetheart.”

For a moment you thought you should, but then you saw your notebook next to your bag and you knew you were leaving. A wave of resentment hit you when you thought of what led you here. “God. Must I do everything for you, little boys?”

Bucky grunted when he fell on all fours from the push you delivered between his shoulder blades.

Tangling your fist in his hair you pulled Bucky by his locks across the room. You dog walked the Winter Soldier, crawling his way like an animal in heat, before Steve’s feet. Grabbing Bucky by the nape of his neck, you forced his face closer to Steve’s cock.

With your free hand you pinched your fingers around the bottom of Bucky’s cheeks, squeezing harshly. His mouth parted and lips puckered out as you bent down to his ear, “Open and enjoy.”

Steve stood immobile, taking in Bucky’s weakness and your strength. His tip weeping with arousal at the drastic change in dynamics.

Steve quickly undid his pants eager for pleasure, “Maybe I should get you first, but this will help us quicker. Suck me dry, Bucky. Then I can help you better.”

You scoffed at Steve, even now he portrayed himself as selfless when he was actually selfish.

Your actions were harsh and voice mocking as Bucky’s lips wrapped around Steve’s dick. Both moaning in pleasure with the contact.

“No, no little bear. I know you can get the honey out better than that. Put some effort into it,” with a swift shove of your foot, you pressed your shoe into Bucky’s firm ass cheek. 

Suddenly and ungracefully, Bucky lurched forward and impaled his mouth further down on Steve’s dick.

A deep growl from Steve’s chest vibrated out down along his torso and into Bucky’s mouth. Pressing Bucky harder into Steve’s crotch with your foot, your eyes connected with Steve’s. He couldn’t look away from you. Bucky coughed and choked on Steve’s length as you pressed him harder into Steve with a devious smile. 

Steve lost it. Instead of trying to pull Bucky off him to allow him to breathe, Steve grabbed Bucky by his hair and pulled his face in closer. 

Bucky’s nose to Steve’s pelvis, you bit your lip and undid the button on your jeans. Slipping your hand under your panties, you felt your wetness as Steve kept his eyes locked on you. You licked your lips, spurring Steve on. The whimpers you let out when teasing yourself made Bucky suck harder. You found your release at the sight of Steve’s hard thrusts and Bucky slipping his hand down his own pants.

---

“Thanks again for the ride,” you said, nestling the grocery bags between your legs.

“No problem, needed a few snacks too. Seemed like a good idea when you mentioned it.”

“You’re just gonna miss me, partner. What will you do now that we’re not shadowing each other 24-7?”

“Hey! There’s only so much junk food on base. You know I need variety. Besides, a drive into town seemed like a nice way to break up the evening. How else am I supposed to keep you out of trouble?” Aaron teasingly quirked an eyebrow, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

“Yeah, yeah- chaperon, my chaperon. Thanks again for the extra time you put in with the project. Shaved off a month from the schedule, couldn’t have done it without you staying around those extra nights.”

“I’m looking forward to us getting back to New York.”

“Hmm,” you rolled the window down halfway, trying to keep yourself busy to avoid commenting.

Aaron looked over at you, “Hey. It’ll be nice to go back home to New York, right?”

You shrugged, “It’ll be nice to leave tomorrow. With us already submitting the results the other day, all we have to do is clean and pack up. It’s quiet with only us being there in the SHIELD section now.”

“New York bound it is then!” Aaron tapped your thigh and gave your knee a friendly squeeze. “I can’t wait to get back, who’d of thought I’d miss the wife’s cooking?” Aaron mused, slowing down at the yellow light.

“I’m just happy to have some time off. Take in some sights and then venture into a new contract at my own leisure.” You flipped the radio’s volume up a few clicks higher, resting your head back against the seat.

“It’s amazing how much we accomplished in that time frame. It’s your estimates that allowed us to finish earlier than expected. Your calculations were in the zone, only needing minimal tweaking. Some days it was like you already tested the product out, especially with how close we were with each ingredient’s measurements,” Aaron shot you an amused smile but it slowly dropped when you didn’t smile back. “Oh, hey. Hey, you okay?”

Clearing your throat, you sat up straighter. “Um, yeah. I’m good,” turning your head to look out the passenger window, “now.”

Nodding his head at your words, he easily mistook your reaction, “What I’m trying to say is- if you ever need help with another project, think of me.”

“…Thanks. I will,” your mumble of gratitude seemed like modesty but it was guilt.

You shifted in the seat, putting more room between you and Aaron. Almost like you were giving your emotions more space to sit comfortably in the car also. You knew why your calculations were so close to being correct with making the sex pollen viable. You recorded and studied the muted video you made of Steve and Bucky’s reaction times to those test doses. But some nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you slipped your hand between your thighs and watched it with the sound on low.

Aaron straightened the car out of the turn, “Can’t wait till agents are able to use this in the field. There’ll definitely be some interesting stories. Get ready, I’m sure an offer will come to stay on permanently with SHIELD. You’d want that, right? It’d be nice to be back in that lab with Banner.”

You sighed at the New York reminder. These last several months had been wonderful. You enjoyed all the research tasks guilt-free instead of juggling them with two demanding Avengers. When they were away, you got to decide how to fill your days and nights. You got to immerse yourself in your own research missions of experiments and notes. You enjoyed organizing the videos and recording, typing the trial and errors, outlining notes on coffee-stained scribbled books.

But you weren’t ready to give your freedom up, you were in no rush to return to New York or Banner’s lab. It was a hard call you made to Bruce the other day. You didn’t want to burn any bridges with him, not when he was a mentor. But you weren’t ready to return. You didn’t want to be in close proximity with Steve and Bucky anymore. So when you spoke to Bruce earlier, you told him you’d be taking more time for yourself and wouldn’t be returning to New York...

“What do you mean you’re not coming back?”

“Bruce, this is essential.”

“Essential to your career or essential in avoiding your relationship status?”

That cold splash of verbal water made you pause. A heavy silence was met on both ends of the phone. A few seconds past as neither you or Bruce said anything. Finally, Bruce broke the standoff by sighing in agreement of your request to take a break before signing a new contract. But not before he gave scientific advice, “You’d feel better if you talked to them. They miss you, you know. This avoidance and stress,  it’ll just make you sick.”

“No, I’d feel better if I had more time alone. Space, lots of space to decide what I want to do. Somewhere-”

“Listen, Jailbreak,” Tony queued up your call over the speakers causing Banner to send him a sour perturbed look.

You moved your jaw back and forth, trying to tamper down the annoyance of hearing Tony’s voice cut in on your private call, “..Yes?”

“It’s time.”

“No, actually Tony, it’s not. Nor will it be.”

“Yeah super, I hear ya small fry and that’s really great you think that. But now hear what I’m saying, it’s time.”

“Stop, Tony. I’m taking time for myself.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that!”

Tony cringed at your tone, mildly forgetting Steve’s nickname for you. Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony’s less than accidental slip-up. “Okay, okay. What I mean is and I repeat, it’s time. You can find that inner peace bullshit back here. You need to come home.”

“That’s not my home anymore. I’m doing what I want and going to figure-”

“Then what? I have two out of control super a-holes on back to back missions because they’re pissed their girlfriend left them.”

‘In compromising positions,’ you thought. “It’s ex-girlfriend now, Tony.”

Tony’s laugh was dry and crisp, “Hardly an ex.”

“I am. I have no claim on them, they have no claim on me. Hence, the ex part.”

“They’re taking back to back missions so they can kill- legally, sweetheart.”

“Well, they’re doing it together so it’s an Avenger date night. They have each other, that’s enough.”

“Quit fooling yourself, spit out the kool-aid. There’s no getting out of this. You aren’t an ex to them and you will never be an ex to them. Realize it, quickly. For your own sake. And more importantly, for the sake of my cleaning bills. Ring your energy bell, light your candles- then come home.”

“I called to say thank you to Dr. Banner, not to get into an argument with you, Mr. Stark. My contract has been completed,” you gritted through your teeth. You were over all this, especially Tony putting his nose into everything. After this, you planned on finding something else with a different company. Another life.

Tony tapped the mute button on the screen and leaned away from the desk. A look of disbelief on his face as he waved his hand over the table to Bruce. “What kind of attitude are you teaching her in here? Am I handing out bonuses to be cashed in for disrespect? Is it not registering with her that I sign everyone’s payroll?”

Bruce looked at Tony over his glasses, mumbled an apology on your behalf and turned back to his project.

Tony flipped the mute button off, “Funny, thought I owned the company. Thought I owned a multitude of companies. Remember that, lil'miss girlfriend to Steve and Bucky.”

“Tony,” closing your eyes, you took a moment to gather yourself. The man was exhausting, “Please stop, I didn’t call to fight. I only called to say goodbye to Bruce, and now, it seems to you also.”

“Look, deserter. Bruce agrees you should have some time away,” Tony pointedly looked at him causing Bruce to nod quickly in agreement. “I’ll set you up in a cabin. It’s a nice place. Mountains, woods, big ponds, Bambi bullshit. It’s far enough away from noise and people. Town’s about an hour’s drive, so you’ll get to concentrate on what matters there. I’m sending over the location now, it’ll be stocked when you get there. Get your priorities sorted. Get this out of your system, you had your streak of rebellion. There’s new projects you’re needed on here. Reevaluate what matters and then head back. This is where your home is.” 

Tony ended the call without giving you a chance to agree or protest and smirked at Bruce.

“Oh no, no. Don’t do that to her, Tony.” Bruce frantically shook his head causing his glasses to fall further down his nose.

“They’re coming back soon anyways, a reason to head back a few day earlier will be fine. I’m not dealing with them and their fucking destruction anymore. They’re out of fucking control without her. Their missions are the only things keeping my building intact here.”

“Tony, you can’t do that to her- she wanted out. They just need more time. They’ll eventually come to terms with this,” Bruce tasted the lie as soon as it was out.

“She made her bed- sandwiched right in between a jagged tin-can and captain popsicle. They’re her problem to deal with and no time like the present,” Tony scrolled through the screen again. “Besides, you know I’d find you if you ever tried to leave me. That’s one thing I actually get where they’re coming from. You’ve learned your spot is with me. Lil'miss escapee will learn her spot is with them.”

“And if she has to learn it the hard way?”

“Well, that’s between them.”

--

The noon sun beat down on Steve as the com crackled with an incoming call, “Speak, Stark.”

“How much of a favor do you and Manchurian want to owe me?”...

--

Aaron patted your knee and called your attention back, “What do you think?”

“Sorry. What?”

“New York. When we get back, you want to start in the lab right away or take a week off?”

“Um,” you shifted in your seat, “I’m not going back, Aaron.”

“…So you’re staying out here for a bit longer but then heading back?” Aaron’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel as his eyes darted from the empty road to you when you didn’t answer. “You’re coming back with me, right?”

“No. I spoke to Bruce earlier and said goodbye. I’m taking some time off. I’ll figure out a new place to work later.”

“You’re not serious.”

“It’ll be for the best for-”

“You can’t do that,” he spat acidly.

“What do you mean, I can’t do that?”

“I need to call the wife.” Aaron angled the car over to the side of the road. A pair of unnoticed headlights shut off in the distance as you were too preoccupied with Aaron’s outburst.

“…Can’t you call her back at base?”

“No. I definitely can’t,” he said bitterly as he whirled his body to face yours. “When the hell did you even decide this? How could you keep this from me?”

“I- what. I’m sorry, but what does that matter? I appreciate your help on this project but you don’t need me, Aaron. You’re great, you’ll get picked up for a new contract with Stark. Or, maybe even think about going to a different place like I am-”

“That’s not the fucking point! FUCK! I need my phone.”

“What’s wrong? You’re freaking me out.”

Aaron ignored you while he frantically patted himself down, “Fuck. Gonna be pissed, accuse me of doing this on purpose or some shit. Goddammit, I don’t have my phone. Give me yours.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Give me your phone. Now.”

“I left it at base,” you lied and pressed the back of your heel against your purse on the floor.

“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

“I don’t have it!”

“You’re as selfish as they said. FINE,” Aaron punched the steering wheel and started the car up. “We’re going to the base. I’m calling the fucking wife. Then you and I are going back to the Tower.”

You stared at your friend who literally morphed into a complete stranger right before your eyes. Your heart sped up as he looked at you with contempt.

“I want out,” you reached down to grab your purse, but Aaron took a hold of your thigh and squeezed painfully making you yelp.

“No! You’re fucking staying rig-”

Before he could finish, Aaron’s window was violently smashed in.

The force rocked the car for a moment; glass confetti flying, little shards landing on his lap and chest. Screaming, you pressed your back into the car door as a silver arm flew through the shattered window and delivered a punch into Aaron’s chest.

Bucky. “Oh my god-”

TAP, TAP, TAP.

Your fearful whisper was cut off as you jolted away from the passenger window and the tapping by your ear.

A tear ran down your cheek when you saw Steve lean against your car door, smiling. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Aaron groaned beside you. His face bloodied from the broken glass and Bucky’s metal hand pressured against his sternum.

“Good to see you, baby girl.”

Before your brain could catch up to your fear, Aaron coughed and wheezed in his seat, “I didn’t know. I swear.”

Bucky tsked and pressed his fist into Aaron’s chest harder.

“When did you find out, Aaron?” Steve asked as he moved his hand through your open window and gently caressed your cheek. “Think he’ll lie to us, sweetheart?”

“Just now,” Aaron struggled for a full breath against Bucky’s weighted arm, “I swear.”

“You swear a lot, don’t you Aaron?” Steve tapped your nose. “We heard you swearing at our girl. We didn’t like that very much.”

“Baby girl.” Your eyes cut to Bucky’s as you pressed your back further against the seat. “Is he a liar?” Bucky slightly lifted the pressure off of Aaron’s chest.

Wetting your dry lips, your brain was muddled by the confusion of seeing them here. “Lying, about what?”

Aaron hatefully hissed your name before shouting out, “Goddammit! Fucking tell them I didn’t know you weren’t coming back.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Bucky warned steelily.

Your eyes darted between Steve and Bucky, your mind still whirling, “He didn’t- I didn’t-”

“Tell'em I just found out, you bitch!”

The plates in Bucky’s arm shifted as he knocked Aaron against the seat, “Mind your fucking manners.”

“Is that true, sweetheart? You just told him?”

Before you could answer, Aaron squeezed your thigh, “Tell them!”

You hissed under his grip, Bucky and Steve’s eyes zeroed in on Aaron’s hand covering your thigh.

Before you could yell no, Bucky reached in and grabbed Aaron’s hand off you.

A metal fist over flesh, he squeezed until bones crunched. “Don’t touch what isn’t yours.”

Bucky dropped Aaron’s mangled hand and looked straight at you, “Get out of the car, baby girl.”

The car door creaked open, Steve’s palm rested on the frame with his other extended for you. With shaky fingers, you unbuckled your seat belt and reached for Steve’s offered hand.

“You did this,” Aaron bit out over the pain, “you selfish, bitc-”

Bucky ripped the door open and grabbed Aaron by the back of his neck. In one swift move, Bucky drilled Aaron’s face forward into the steering wheel. You jumped at the sound of the horn blasting as Steve walked you away.

“Careful, sweetheart. Don’t worry, we got you,” Steve pulled you in closer to his side before opening his car’s backdoor.

“Steve, please he has a wife,” you pleaded, your brain now clearer on what was about to happen to Aaron. “He didn’t know I wasn’t coming back until just now. I swear. I only told Bruce and then Tony found out. But- but Aaron didn’t know.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve cupped your face, his touch deceptively tender as he reached behind his back. “There’s no wife. Aaron was calling us, keeping track of our soon-to-be wife. But his hand on your thigh, the way he spoke to you? We can’t allow that. He did this to himself. Get in the car, we have a cabin to get it to.”

The last thing you felt was a pinch on your skin. The last thing you heard was a gunshot.

---

Before you even opened your eyes, you felt the headache knock against your skull. You gingerly rolled over enjoying the feeling of a warm, comfortable bed. But who’s bed? The question shook you, making you sit up with a jeering head rush. Sandwiching your hands to your forehead, you took in your surroundings. Expensive rustic furniture lined a cabin wall, exposed logs and chinking ran the entire room. A vaulted ceiling showcased wooden beams, and a partially open door showed an attached bathroom.

Was this Tony’s cabin? Crawling up to the windowsill above the bed, you peered out to see the rich, green scenery. A thick forest and mountains in the background, if it were under different circumstances you might have enjoyed the mockingly peaceful scenery. But instead, it reminded you of a gaudy oil painting and Tony’s words of Bambi-bullshit. You continued to scan the grounds when you noticed you weren’t on the ground level.

“Glad to see you’re up. Bet you’re thirsty,” Steve casually entered the room, water bottle in hand.

You silently turned around on the bed to watch him.

“Plotting takes a lot out of a person,” he placed the water bottle on the desk and leaned against the mahogany design.

“Want to go over what’s expected of you, or would you like to test this drink first?”

“Is Aaron dead?” You were back to being a pawn on Steve and Bucky’s chessboard, but you risked the question. You knew the answer but you wanted him to confirm it. Pushing your luck further you asked again, “He is dead, Steve?”

“Guess we’ll talk about what’s expected of you first,” he gruffly replied.

“You can’t keep me here, Steve. People will be looking for me, they’ll be looking for Aaron.”

With a smirk, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, “I can and we are, sweetheart. No one’s looking for you.”

His confidence alarmed you. “They will be looking for me, Steve. My stuff’s still at the base.”

“No, baby girl,” Bucky entered the room, setting down your suitcase and a large brown paper bag. “Tony offered a little digital help. If anyone looks, there’s cameras showing you packing up and leaving much earlier. But who’d even look? Not us, you broke up with us. Not anyone at SHIELD, your contract’s fulfilled. Plus, you told Banner you weren’t coming back to the Tower.”

“…No,” the cabin’s walls were closing in on you.

Steve got up and stood with Bucky at the foot of bed, “You should’ve appreciated what you had, sweetheart. You hurt us. If you talked, we would have listened. You can always come to us.”

Your eyes narrowed at Steve’s delusion.

“You say please and thank you, but you’re not really grateful for how good you had it. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You stared past their shoulders, finding a knot on the wooden wall behind them. Afraid a wrong word would set them off further, you didn’t trust your voice with the fear and anger swimming in you.

Steve chuckled, “Well, look who’s giving who the silent treatment now.”

“Look at us, baby girl. I said, look.”

With your lip between your teeth, you slowly made eye contact with Bucky. He grabbed the water bottle off the desk and tossed it by your feet, a soft thump sounded when it landed in the blankets. “Drink it.”

With a scratchy voice, you lied- “I’m not thirsty.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn, can’t wait to bend you over and break you,” Bucky laughed at your discomfort. “What’s wrong? Can’t trust what we give you?”

Steve nodded toward Bucky and the bag before speaking, “It’s simple, sweetheart. You’re staying in here until you can’t take it anymore. The water’s off in the bathroom, so rethink that. You get the water we give, and we’ll see how you react. ”

Beep. Bucky set his watch causing Steve to smirk at your worried expression.

Putting his hands down on the mattress, Steve leaned in, “If you get desperate enough, we’ll help you out- if you ask nice enough.”

“Better ask really fucking nicely, baby girl. Better make my dick fucking blush at how well you beg.”

“Sweetheart.”

Your watery eyes found Steve.

“If you don’t ask nicely, we can’t help.” Steve stood up and crossed his chest again, “And if you continue to be stubborn, but those fingers aren’t doing enough…” Steve trailed off as Bucky opened the brown bag.

Your chest burned with fear when Bucky pulled a gun out of the bag and dropped it down on the mattress. “Maybe you’ll find relief with this, baby girl.”

You would die here. With the tears pooling in your eyes, Steve and Bucky’s figures blurred. Finally, the dam in your throat broke. A sob of spittle and fear ran over your lips. Wiping the tears away, you saw the boys exchange looks.

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Steve cooed venomously, large shoulders rolling back. “Aren’t you pleased with our offer to help?”

With a tilt of his head, Bucky twisted your fear further, “Why the tears? Just offering you help to find an ultimate release, baby girl.”

“Y-you’re going to kill me because I left? You’re going to kill me like Aaron?” You’re self-preservation crumbled knowing you were always their thing to play with.

Bucky and Steve looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Why are you being so dramatic, baby girl?”

“Sweetheart, what gave you the idea that we’d kill you?”

Your lungs squeezed as you glanced at the weapon. Bucky picked up the gun and began wiping it, “No baby girl. The gun’s mine. This is yours.” Bucky gestured his head to Steve.

On cue, Steve reopened the bag and pulled out an apple pie. “We’re gifting you pie and water. Let’s see how long you hold out until you need to drink or eat.”

“Then we’ll see what happens next, baby girl.”

“Our own little experiment,” Steve connived. “Looking forward you see who’s hypothesis is successful.”

“I was always a fan of science, baby girl.”

You moved to your knees, the mattress soft beneath you, “I don’t want this, please. Just let me go, I’m sorry. Bucky- please. Steve?”

“Listen sweetheart, take your punishment like a good girl and give us some entertainment. It’s the least you can do for us, since we’re protecting a possible murder suspect.”

A vile taste hit the back of your throat again, “Murder suspect?”

“Baby girl.”

Before your mind registered your actions, you caught the gun Bucky tossed you. A drowning sensation hit your body when a misery-filled tsunami crashed against you. Your vision tunneled, your lungs burned- you fell for it.

“Oh baby girl, don’t worry. It’s not loaded, this time. Now, eat your pie and drink your water. We’ll come back to check on you.”

“At some point,” Steve sneered.

“If the urges get to be too much, put the gun between those nice thighs,” Bucky winked at you.

Steve shook his head in amusement, “Bucky…”

“Ah, alright,” Bucky leaned forward and took the gun from you with his left hand. “I’ll let you fuck a different gun, get that barrel nice and clean for me. Sound good, baby girl? But Steve’s right, gotta save this one- fingerprints, leverage. Silly details.” Bucky dropped the gun in the paper bag and tucked it under his arm.

“Why can’t you let me just let me go? You could have anyone else-”

“Sweetheart, we’re getting married. You’re it for us. We’re doing this for you.”

“We’re protecting you. You should be thanking us, baby girl.”

“How are you protecting me?!”

Steve sent Bucky a smile before facing you, “If we’re married, we won’t have to testify against you.”

i'd looooove to hear about what your influences were and are for the noir fic and what elements of the genre you were most excited to include in the fic!!

Ohhhh goodness, where to start??? I know we’ve talked noir before but it’s been one of my favorite genres since childhood, and I got quite into the history/themes in college. It all began with the idea of Hawkeye being a detective, of course, largely inspired by @californiasplit’s art. I wanted my noirhawk to be kind of a cool loser (Long Goodbye style 😎), a tragic figure who talks a big game about wanting to be alone but who only chooses that out of fear and/or misplaced selflessness (perhaps a little Out of the Past???). There’s a really fun kind-of-forgotten noir with Franchot Tone called I Love Trouble that I watched last year, I realized as I was formulating the plot that there are some similarities there… I wanted BJ to totally stump Hawkeye, really throw him for a loop, make all his instincts go haywire so he can’t tell if he’s being played or if BJ is for real (a little bit Maltese Falcon). I had a lot of fun figuring out how other characters would fit in. There’s a little bit of Laura (Laura) in Peg… a lot of Velda (Kiss Me Deadly) in Klinger… some Elisha Cook Jr vibes from Radar (he’s even a jazz drummer in The Phantom Lady, although of course he turns out to be way more of a creep than our Radar).

As far as elements of the genre — I was pretty conflicted about whether I should write in first person. I feel like the voiceover is such an iconic part of noir, how could I not? I toyed with some other ideas of how to make it work, but ultimately I’m really glad I decided to do the whole thing with Hawkeye’s absurd internal monologue. I set it in San Francisco of course — I’m one of those people who draws a distinction between California and New York noir, and this feels like a California story to me — it’s about space rather than the lack of it. There are a lot of very clear cliches in the dialogue, the first chapter especially — I think those fade a little bit as we and Hawkeye get deeper into the story and he starts to get really involved and see it less as a movie and more as his life. I hope the plot feels pretty noir too — there are twists and turns, some of which may turn out to be dead ends, and I think the way things do or don’t resolve will feel thematically familiar to those in the know ☺️

❤️ Always Knew You Were Magical

by jeyhawk

E, 25k, wangxian

Summary:  Modern Cultivators AU.

Lan Wangji finds Wei Wuxian pajamas to wear and coaxes him into them, wide plaid pants in dark blue and white and a t-shirt with two rabbits on it. Wei Wuxian looks down on the shirt and smiles for the first time all evening.

"Lan Zhan, do all your pajamas have rabbits on them?"

Lan Wangji thinks about lying, but it would be foolish when Wei Wuxian is standing right next to the proof. He inclines his head slightly.

"I like rabbits," he says.

Wei Wuxian blinks and then he smiles a little wider.

My comments:  This was simply lovely. It's all lwj's POV, and captures his awkwardness perfectly:

"I don't believe you are entirely made of ice."

Lan Wangji wants to laugh at the gall of that statement. Ice? When he's entirely made up of conflicting emotions, embarrassment and arousal.

Lwj has a crush on wwx that you 'can see from the moon'. (Wwx is oblivous, of course.) And you just think this is a normal college au until wwx gets cursed and shows up distraught at lwj's doorstep, trying to not be suicidal and drifting with black curse marks and resentful energy. It turns out everyone EXCEPT wwx is in the cultivation world, but now they have to let him in on the secret in order to try to break the curse.

Luckily, the Lan Sect are curse breakers, so lwj takes him to Cloud Recesses where they share a bed -- so many delicious tropes, I'm telling you -- pet rabbits, and truths are revealed and our boys grow closer and the curse is slowly analyzed....

Excerpt 1:  Wei Wuxian almost always brings him drawings, dropping them onto Lan Wangji's desk as if they're his payment for taking the seat no one else wants. He's very strange, really, but Lan Wangji likes him so much.

Wei Wuxian grins at him and bumps their shoulders together. He's really so very bright. Lan Wangji wants to kiss him. He has kissed all of one person before. It was stiff, awkward and terrible and then he was compared, unfavorably, to a frozen cod, so he thinks it's probably best if he never tries to kiss Wei Wuxian. He'd be very lonely if no one ever sat down next to him. His brother is away most of the time and his uncle is also a very busy man.

Excerpt 2:  Wei Wuxian stays under the spray for a long time, long enough that Lan Wangji almost enters a meditative trance watching his feet move behind the fogged up glass. It's how he doesn't realize something is wrong until he hears Wei Wuxian make a tiny choked noise and looks up to find Wei Wuxian has wrapped the shower hose two times around his neck and is busy pulling it tight with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Wei Wuxian," he shouts, jumping up from the toilet seat.

By the time he's yanking the shower door open Wei Wuxian has already dropped the shower head to the floor, where it wriggles around like a snake until Lan Wangji manages to turn the water off. Then he has his arms full of a crying Wei Wuxian again, but this time he's both warm and naked.

"I told you. I told you," Wei Wuxian cries, digging his fingers into Lan Wangji's back. "I'm mad. Are my feet smoking? Tell me. Are they smoking?"

They are. Thick black curse residue swirls around his feet and curls sinuously around his ankles. Lan Wangji waves it away with a hand behind Wei Wuxian's back and the pressure in his chest eases a little bit. It's a curse. Curses he knows how to deal with.

modern au, modern with magic, college/university au, favorite, curses, curse breaking, case fic, sharing a bed, non-sexual intimacy, pining, resolved sexual tension, mast*rbation, first time, bjs, True Love’s Kiss, attempted self-harm under influence of a curse, crushes, insecurity, insecure lan wangji, cuddling and snuggling, true love, love curse, first kiss, soulmates

Beetlejuice Artist Headcannons  ☆

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Masterlist

Date Uploaded: 11/3/19

Warnings: None

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Beetlejuice was always fascinated by your drawings. Literally if you drew a line he would praise it. We all know our special little rat man loves to receive affection, but he also loves to be as affectionate as possible to you.

He’ll either be hugging you, kissing you, or cuddling you. His hair ALWAYS was some kind of like pink or green around you. He couldn’t help it, you managed to keep him happy 98% of the time.

One time you drew him and he. went. feral. No one had ever drawn him before, unless if you count the time the Maitlands poorly scribbled him out with crayons as a birthday card, but this was different.

You sketched out this tiny little man with a giant sandworm behind him. Sure, it wasn’t the best…. But he was in awe. He would make a ton of photocopies.

The fridge? Covered in them. An empty wall? Just paste on a few papers and its beautiful again. Don’t forget the time he began to hand them out like flyers. He was so proud.

Seeing him so excited made you draw him more! It was an ongoing loop of him carry shreds of paper with him. BJ dedicated a tiny little pouch for the post-it notes you made him, he hoped to make a big collage. He was hesitant not to mess up all of the little clippings. 

“Can you draw me holding a huge sword with a giant cat and you’re standing next to me and then there’s a rainbow shooting out of the cat and then there’s a beetle mountain underneath us. Can you draw me? Pleaseee?”  

“No.” 

“Why? Please! I’ll do anything! Come on babes.”

“Beej, it’s four in the morning.”

“Yeah, but please??”

You even influenced him to start drawing. For Valentine’s Day you gave him a little notebook and a bunch of watercolors. He would paint you, Lydia, and a bunch of things around the house. 

One day you came home and saw Beetlejuice pouting on a couch. He was just staring out the window looking like he was going to cry.

“Hey Sweetie! What’s wrong?”

“There’s no more pages in my book! I can’t draw anymore!” 

“Bug, you can use mine until I get you a new one.”

He lit up and pulled you in for one of the tightest hugs

Ngl he gave the best hugs 

“Thank you so much babe! I’m going to draw us with a cool mermaid!”

And then he was off to make his next creation-

There were times when we would get utterly frustrated with art…. 

“I’m going to burn this book until its binding collapses!” (Sad Puppet Show Vibes)

To be fair you knew he had a short patience with  anything that didn’t go smoothly, but you weren’t expecting him to come barging in (red hair and all) with a lighter about to give himself second degree burns.

“What happened?!”

He calmed down a bit when you came up to him, but he was gonna set the house into flames at any inconvenience.

“I messed up on the line and I RUINED the page.”

“Do you want some help?” 

“Yes.”  

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ACITW AU one-shot “Downward Facing Doubts” (Rated M)

Summary: Kurt convinces Sebastian to join him, Olivia, Julian, and Cooper in a yoga class. 'Bribe' is actually the more accurate term. But whereas the endorphins released during exercise usually make people feel good, this time, they bring all sorts of doubts to the surface. (3760 words)

Notes: Takes place some time after 'Under the Fireworks' and references 'I Was Praying for You and Me'.

Part of ACITW AU extended verse

Read on AO3.

“Extend your arms out to your sides, then raise them over your head …” Yogi Cecile instructs, her soothing alto voice threading through the airy music playing over circular speakers scattered in Feng Shui formation throughout the studio. “Bend your back gently into a crescent moon …”

Sebastian breathes in sharply as he attempts the move, his shoulders quaking involuntarily as he tries to deepen the stretch. He finds his balance point, quite by surprise, then fights to hold it, difficult since his focus keeps drifting, his eyes darting to the side to check out the competition. He scowls, not thrilled at being one-upped by Julian who, infuriatingly, performs the move like an expert. But of course he would, Sebastian thinks with a bitter roll of his eyes, one that gives him a major headache with his head pulled back. Didn’t he claim that he attended some month-long yoga retreat in the High Desert for the sole purpose of fellating himself?

Even if Sebastian is a bit fuzzy on the particulars, his head swimming with a mixture of dizziness and pain that’s one more deep breath away from making him puke, that definitely sounds like the kind of thing Julian would do.

Olivia and Kurt, lined up to Sebastian’s right, switch from pose to pose without breaks, extending their arms and bending their backs as if standing on one leg and staring horizontally up at the pale pink ceiling were the normal position for, say, grabbing a coffee or looking at shoes. At least Sebastian isn’t faring the worst in their group. No, that honor goes to Cooper. Capping off their row to the far left of Julian, Cooper starts losing his balance, teetering forward dangerously towards a handful of innocent strangers unaware of the 180 pound man on the brink of bowling towards them.

“How …?” Sebastian starts, talking on the crest of an inhaled breath he’s running out of as he contorts into another ludicrous pose.

“Did you let me talk you into joining a yoga class?” Kurt finishes, sliding smoothly from a crescent moon into the next forward bend. “That’s easy. You’ll do anything for a blow---”

Olivia clears her throat loudly when she spots their instructor heading their way, eyes originally glued to Sebastian’s crooked posture but hopping to Kurt’s smug grin when the word ‘blow’ sneaks past his lips.

“Straighten your spine … lean forward … brace your hands on the mat in front of you … and extend one leg back to a half downward dog.” Cecile circles their quintet twice and Kurt thinks she’s about to scold them. They haven’t been properly engaged since the start of class. But then she hurries off to help another young lady square her hips.

“I refuse to believe that I’m that simple-minded,” Sebastian grouses, working on stabilizing his own hips before he extends his leg. He dips to the side but manages to catch himself. Cooper isn’t quite as lucky, careening forward like a downed Cessna and smacking the bridge of his nose on his cork yoga block. He drops to his knees, shaking his head to clear the stars out from behind his eyes. Julian falls out of formation to give him a hand up and helps him restore his stance.

“Well, I promised you that bj for after this class and you’re still here,” Kurt says, lips curling into the shadow of a smirk. “You draw your own conclusions.”

“You draw your own conclusions …” Sebastian mimics. He wobbles once. Then twice. He sucks in his stomach to save himself without locking his knees (since Cecile told them at the start of class that locking their knees was bad). But his foot rolls and he’s forced to put the other down to support himself. He tries again … and again … but Sebastian doesn’t successfully execute the move before they’re changing positions.

Kurt rotates up on one leg and transitions into a picture perfect tree pose. He opens an eyelid and peeks at Sebastian, taking in a deep breath through his nose and schooling his face into a mask of meditation so he doesn’t laugh out loud and disrupt the class more than Sebastian’s fumbling through the stances already has.

“Maybe it’s because … mmph … I’m so tall … grrr … that I’m not getting it,” Sebastian offers, stuttering upright in stages, ending in a slumped, unsteady tree.

Kurt turns his head left and looks at Sebastian directly beside him, meeting him eye-to-eye. He arches an eyebrow.

Sebastian pulls an undignified face.

“Sometimes …” their yoga instructor says as she makes the rounds, correcting the posture of the needier students. She has already been to help Sebastian five times during this one-hour lesson, and Cooper too many times for Kurt to count. She flashes Julian an impressed smile and a nod. He winks at her in response “… it is not the balance outside that is needed, but inside.” She puts a hand to Sebastian’s back and one to his stomach, pushing together to force him straight. “The anxiety in your life, the stress, the regrets of your past - they settle in your core.” She pats Sebastian on the stomach. Removing her hand causes his belly to stick back out a hair, and he sways dangerously in Kurt’s direction. Cecile shakes her head and sets Sebastian straight again. “Negative influences roll around and throw you out-of-whack. But yoga and meditation will set you right again.” She stands back and appraises the two men standing side by side, so similar in appearance but obviously a couple with the way they’ve been playfully bickering, and gives them a smile. Then she continues on her way.

“Doesn’t that sound familiar?” Kurt says with a fond grin.

“Yeah.” Sebastian grunts. “Why is it we’re forever getting life advice from graduates of The Learning Annex?”

Both Kurt and Olivia scoff.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with The Learning Annex, but I will have you know that Cecile is an expert in her field!” Olivia says.

“An expert in standing on one foot and stretching her arms over her head? Excuse me if I’m not all that impressed.”

“You should be,” Julian intervenes. “You can’t do it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to do it!”

“Boys, boys,” Olivia whispers when heads turn their way. “Let’s keep it down to a dull roar, please. And remember to breathe.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Kurt says, making a big show of following her lead, breathing in through his nose and then out through his mouth. “We’re here to meditate. Relax. Realign our chakras.”

“Someone’s going to have to realign poor Cooper’s spine by the time we’re done,” Olivia remarks, a giggle hidden in her voice. With Kurt’s eyelids shut and Cooper two whole people away, Kurt doesn’t see what the man is doing, but immediately after Olivia’s comment, he hears Cooper apologize profusely.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m so sorry. I really … yes, sir. I’m sorry. Oh, r-really? That’s very kind of you. Slash savings, yup. I can sign that for you, if you’d like …”

Kurt bites his tongue behind his teeth. Good old Cooper, still able to get some mileage out of that FreeCreditRatingToday gig.

It’s nice to know some things never change.

“For your information, I regret nothing,” Sebastian whisper-hisses after a pause, his body cramping as he tries to maintain his corrected tree pose.

Kurt sighs.

Yup. Some things never change. And some things rise up from the grave from time to time to haunt you, like Hamlet’s father, only with swoopier bangs, wearing basketball shorts and a Tommy Hilfiger v-neck.

“Ah, you protest too much, Sebby,” Julian murmurs, remaining purposefully vague as this is definitely not the time nor place to drudge up old angst. He leaves things there, snapping back into an impeccable tree pose after helping Coop up off the floor again.

“Besides …” Sebastian side-steps his brother to finish making his point “… if that’s the case, then you should mondo-suck at this, Kurt! I mean, let’s take a look at your past, shall we? The year of tragic style choices, dating Blaine, choosing New Directions and that lame ass public school over Dalton and the Warblers … whoa!” Sebastian drops his hip and his shoulder during his rant, causing him to rock to the outside edge of his foot. He barely keeps himself from twisting an ankle and going straight down. “Your life must be chock full of regrets!”

“Uh … let’s not forget that one of those past life decisions was agreeing to date you, little brother,” Julian steps in, jumping swiftly to Kurt’s defense.

Sebastian may have retorted with something along the lines of, “That’s the only intelligent decision he made,” but Kurt doesn’t know for certain. He shuts up like a clam - locks his teeth together and blocks Sebastian and his infernal whining out. He inhales long and zeroes in on the music - the gentle plucking of strings, the tinkling of bells, the flutes holding sustained notes, giving the class an anchor with which to control their breathing. There he remains, floating in the cradle of dark behind his eyelids. A bigger man rises above petty retorts, Kurt can hear his father say, concentrating on repairing his own withering tree pose. He simply needs to be the bigger man.

If he reacts thoughtlessly, does something rash, he might regret it.

Sebastian is simply having a bad day.

They don’t have days like this very often. This is just … well, one of those days. And Kurt is willing to let it go, let it pass like the rhythmic breaths through his lips. But Sebastian broke a cardinal rule.

He mentioned Blaine, which they both swore on the threat of blue balls that neither one of them would do. Especially in anger.

Kurt can only assume Sebastian is uncomfortable here. Sebastian doesn’t like not being the best at everything from go, which is probably why he’s bearing claws and teeth right now. It reminds Kurt of their days taking dance lessons - the two of them butting heads, fighting to lead when it didn’t really need to be one or the other.

It could have been both, paving a single fluid path had they come to a consensus from the start.

But here, they stand on their own two feet - or one foot at the moment, with their hands above their heads. They sink or swim on their own. Cecile calling Sebastian out more than likely didn’t help matters any. No one likes to be the center of attention when they’re flailing. Kurt feels guilty about that, that he’s not closer to Sebastian, reaching out a hand to help him the way Julian is for Cooper.

Kurt opens an eyelid and peeks over. He sees Sebastian, the man he loves, struggling, fighting to regain balance. A balance that Kurt has in spades. A balance that Kurt would be more than willing to help him with, lend him some of.

Suddenly, Sebastian mutters something uncomplimentary under his breath, and Kurt feels less than willing.

He actually considers reaching over and giving Sebastian a push. One swat would send him toppling backward. Kurt has seen Sebastian fall on his ass plenty.

It would be hilarious.

But he can’t do it.

And not because Sebastian might take half a dozen other students with him when he goes, but because after a little quiet contemplation, Kurt realizes that Sebastian may not be lashing out because he can’t do yoga.

The thought that he wouldn’t be as good at this as he is at everything else is preposterous. He’s an exceptional athlete and a graceful dancer. Yoga shouldn’t be that great a hardship for him.

Sebastian may be lashing out because he feels backed into a corner. This has happened before - several times, as a matter of fact, and with Kurt. Sebastian starts to feel trapped, forgets himself, and comes out barrels blazing, shooting first and asking questions later. But what about? What could he possibly feel trapped about?

It comes to Kurt with a single, subtle movement - something he’s started doing recently. Something that had never been a habit of Kurt’s before.

Rolling his engagement ring on his finger.

The ring is a fairly recent accessory, given to him in fairy tale fashion underneath Fourth of July fireworks with everyone he loves present at the picturesque Smythe estate. But their journey to this point has been a bumpy one. There have been fights, misunderstandings, crossroads, a break up. But here they are, together, standing tall …

Another glance in Sebastian’s direction proves that’s not entirely true. He stumbles backward … then forward … then backward again, like he’s performing a clumsy two-step on the deck of a listing ship without a partner.

Could this ring on Kurt’s finger be the reason? Could it be one of Sebastian’s regrets? Could he be re-thinking the whole thing?

As ridiculous as that may sound, it has crossed Kurt’s mind once or twice before. Nothing bad has happened between them since that night - no devastating fights, nothing that would threaten their overall happiness. Even Julian has kept his shameless flirting to a minimum. But Kurt has abandonment issues. Severe ones.

They run deep.

To his defense, Kurt did consult an expert about his feelings.

He’d asked Olivia her opinion on the subject.

She’s privy to the grim details of his backstory, of course, so he can be as dramatic as he wants around her without sounding like a self-serving ninny. She’d waited patiently for him to finish, smiled warmly, and said, “Kurt, Sebastian loves you. More than he’s ever loved anything in his whole life. Loves you more than he’s ever loved himself.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you not know?” she’d replied with that faint roll of her eyes that the Smythe siblings seem to share. “I know my brother. And even if, for some reason, he didn’t love you as much as I know he does, we do. The whole family.”

“So you’d keep in touch if anything went south between us?” Kurt had never thought to ask. The Smythes were such a loyal family, he feared the answer would be no. But they’d already invited him into their home once before after he and Sebastian split up - that Christmas when Kurt’s father ended up in the hospital. The Smythes let him spend the holidays with them, supported him throughout that entire ordeal. Luck seemed to be on his side that year. His father came out of the hospital unscathed when Kurt feared to the depths of his soul that he wouldn’t.

How long could his good fortune hold out, especially if he were the reason they split up again?

“You’re one of us, Kurt,” she’d assured him. “Part of the clan. And we don’t ditch clan members, no matter what their transgressions. Besides …” She stirred creamer into her coffee with the biggest, twisted grin on her face “… Julian would marry you.”

Kurt choked on his mocha. “What?”

“You, him, and Cooper would become a thruple. We’ve discussed it … at length.”

“You what!?”

“Take you as a lover was the way he put it. I have to admit, that has a lovely Victorian ring to it. You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

Kurt laughs to himself remembering the look on Olivia’s face as he spilled his drink and she snorted her coffee.

Sebastian must feel Kurt’s eyes on him because he turns his face to Kurt, red-cheeked, frustrated to the point of angry tears. Kurt feels his heart wrench, tightening into a knot of pure sorrow.

Why now though? What could have happened that Kurt didn’t see coming? And why would Sebastian bring up Blaine?

There was a time long ago when Kurt thought he couldn’t live without Blaine and a ring on his finger. That’s far from true. He can more than stand on his own. Ironically, it took dating Sebastian to remind himself of that. Probably because when you’re with someone who supports you selflessly, who only wants the best for you, it brings out the best in you.

“Kurt …” Sebastian whimpers. It’s pained - a pain Kurt feels pinging around his chest.

“Sebastian …” Kurt mouths back, voice unavailable past the ache.

Kurt could live without Sebastian. He could. But he doesn’t want to if he can help it.

Standing here, staring into Sebastian’s eyes, feels like falling in love with him all over again, even if Sebastian is planning on leaving him.

But Kurt isn’t falling.

Sebastian is, coming his way and fast.

“Kurt … help me, Kurt!”

“Sebastian!” Kurt yelps.

Unable to decide whether he should try to catch his boyfriend or get out of the way, he does neither, taking Sebastian’s weight full force in the chest. Reflexively, he wraps his arms around Sebastian instead of dodging for his own safety. He lands flat on his back with a spine-bruising crack! but that’s not where it ends. Unable to stop his momentum in time, Sebastian lands on top of Kurt, checking him in the nose with his shoulder so hard, Kurt almost blacks out.

“Kurt!” Olivia yells, racing to his side. “Sebastian, get off of him! Oh my God! Kurt!”

“Sebby!” Julian barks, yanking Sebastian to his feet, completely unconcerned with any injuries of his brother’s and staring at Kurt with wide, bugged-out eyes. “You killed Kurt!”

“I didn’t kill him!”

“Doesn’t matter! I’m calling mom!”

“Call an ambulance first, you dunderhead!”

Cooper pushes through the crowd to hand Julian his phone. “He’s bleeding!” he points out, voice thick with concern, then shaking like a leaf when he adds, “a lot. I … I don’t like …” Another heavy thud vibrates the wood floor as Cooper disappears from view.

“Jesus Christmas …” Olivia mumbles. “Men.”

“Tell me about it,” Kurt grumbles.

“Kurt!” Sebastian takes Kurt’s hands carefully in his while Cecile leans in low to examine Kurt’s face. She tsks.

“Sit tight, hun. I’m going to get you some ice.”

“Paramedics are on the way,” Julian informs them as he kneels down to tend to an unconscious Cooper. “I told them to send an ambulance built for two.”

“Are you okay?” Sebastian rushes, looking Kurt over closely, doing an examination of his own. “What hurts? Can you hear me? Speak to me!?”

“How can I?” Kurt moans, content after that to never speak again for as long as he lives. It wouldn’t be too bad. He could learn ASL. He’s always wanted to. He nearly guffaws out loud when the thought he can take a Learning Annex course springs to his brain. “You won’t shut up long enough to let me!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I’m … I’m sorry,” Sebastian babbles. “I didn’t mean to ...”

“You do have regrets, don’t you?” Kurt asks, sadly shaking his head. Or trying to. He budges it a centimeter. It screams at him to stop!

Sebastian’s brow furrows. “What the---? Everyone has regrets, Kurt.”

“What are yours?”

“What? I …” Sebastian’s chest shudders, closer to tears than Kurt had previously realized. “That you’re right. That you’re always right.”

Kurt frowns. “Gee. Thanks.”

“I am simple minded. I didn’t want to do this. I knew I wouldn’t be any good at it. And that’s not an opinion. It’s a fact. I went to gymnastics camp as a kid, so I know my limits.”

“You did?” Kurt says, stunned out of remembering he’s in a blistering amount of pain.

“That’s right!” Olivia gasps, pleased as punch that she has another embarrassing story to tell Kurt about his soon-to-be-husband. “How did I forget about Sebastian in that purple unitard!?”

“A story for another time,” Sebastian dismisses forcefully through clenched teeth.

“All right, all right,” Olivia says, pulling out her phone, checking to see if she has any pictures of that event uploaded to her gallery, giving Kurt and Sebastian privacy (figuratively) for the moment.

“The point is,” Sebastian continues, “I should have told you from the beginning that I couldn’t do this.”

You did, Kurt thinks with a pang of regret that eclipses the throbbing in his nose. You did, and I convinced you to come anyway. “So … what about us?”

Sebastian’s face crumbles imperceptibly, as if, with those four words, he’s expecting the worse. “Wh-what about us?”

“Do you have regrets about us?”

“What?” Moss-green eyes pop open so fast, Kurt swears he hears them, like the foley on an anime. “No! What makes you think that?”

“Well, you fell. And Cecile said …”

“Kurt! I fell because I have no balance to speak of! I can’t do yoga. At all, as it turns out. This isn’t The Fault in Our fucking Stars, babe! Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, not a metaphor.” He leans down to kiss the knuckles of Kurt’s hand trapped between his. “I don’t have any regrets about us. I swear I don’t.”

Kurt closes his eyes, the left swelling rapidly, skin turning an alarmingly vivid shade of aubergine. A tear slips from the corner and down his cheek. It’s hot, and everything it touches stings.

Sebastian swallows hard and asks a question he’s wondered about hundreds of times, a question he keeps finding himself asking, never settling in comfortably with the answer. Which is always the same, no matter what.

“Do … do you have any regrets?”

Kurt sniffles before he answers. “Recently?”

Okay, well, maybe not the same this time.

“I guess …”

“Only one.”

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“Yes, but only a teeny bit.”

“And what’s that?” Sebastian asks, holding his breath immediately after, readying himself for whatever barb Kurt chooses to throw.

“That we’re never going to be able to come to this studio again.” Kurt smiles weakly, wincing when he scrunches his nose and pain shoots straight up the bridge to his brain. “And I think you broke my nose.”

Sebastian kisses Kurt’s hand, sputtering a half-laugh/half-cry of relief. “It matches your black eye.”

Kurt fixes his good eye on Sebastian and grimaces - the safest expression of displeasure he can make with his face on the brink of exploding.

“No worries, love,” Julian pipes in, saving Sebastian as tears finally start to fall. “The crooked nose thing isn’t quite in anymore, but I can see you bringing it back. You wear it well.”

“Fuck you both very much,” Kurt mutters.

Julian winks, stepping aside as paramedics rush in. “Promises, promises.”

My 20 Favorite Albums of 2020

MY 20 FAVORITE ALBUMS OF 2020

LISTEN HERE!

       2020 has been a long year. A year full of unrest, darkness, death, depression, & a global pandemic. In 2020 I turned to these songs & albums for comfort. I gained 20 new favorite works of music that I will hold onto for the rest of my life. I have been making this end of the year favorite albums list since 2012, so this is my ninth annual list! For this year, I talked about where, when, & why I fell in love with the following 20 albums. These are the albums that I used to mark Time & Space this year. These are the albums that I will return to and remember the chaos, calm, & comfort of 2020. I also made a 60 song Spotify playlist with a few songs from each album (two of the albums aren’t available on Spotify) that you can listen along with HERE! Ok, here they are, in no particular order, my 20 favorite albums of 2020!

ANGELICA GARCIA   /   Cha Cha Palace

       Angelica Garcia’s dynamic, groundbreaking sophomore album Cha Cha Palace was released on February 28, 2020 to a pre-COVID America. On that Friday I had dropped off my ballot for a local Colorado election and went to Larimer Lounge and saw Seratones play a sweaty rock show. I had no idea what was coming or what was about to change. Cha Cha Palace bookmarked my next couple weeks of waiting, and the CD lived in my car for quite a few essential-worker-commutes through a shut down, sheltered Denver into the Spring. Fittingly, Angelica Garcia’s bombastic, authentic energy is where we begin my list of my favorite albums of 2020.

       If you listen close to Cha Cha Palace, Garcia will tell you a lot about her roots. For starters, she duets with her mother Angelica Maria Garcia on the traditional, vocal swirl of “La Llorona” (”The Weeping Woman” from the 1940′s) and also her grandmother Filomena Garcia with a darker, more foreboding take on “La Enorme Distancia.” Roughly translated “The Enormous Distance” is a Mexican folk song originally by Jose Alfredo Jimenez, the king of Ranchera (Mexican Folk music) in Mexico in the 50′s & 60′s. Garcia proudly weaves her Mexican & Salvadorian roots into all the colorful corners of Cha Cha Palace, but it is on the standout, song of the year contender “It Don’t Hinder Me” where she truly gives you a glimpse into her youth growing up in East LA & then Richmond, VA (Richmond’s Spacebomb Records released Cha Cha Palace!) Over one of the crunchiest, wailing-est electric guitars you’ll find on this list, Garcia lets her vocals flutter & soar as she sings about being a kid; peeling mangos in the kitchen, being yelled at to make your bed, dogs in the street, jaywalking to the corner store with your cousins, peering through a chain-link fence, a backyard party playing “Suavamente,” feeling left out, alone, or alienated. Garcia stands up for the kids in America who look & feel like her, like they don’t belong. With her lyrics and her voice (seriously listen to this album, she can really sing) shutting down haters at every turn “But what they say now - It don’t hinder me! It don’t hurt!” Elsewhere, Garcia uses that powerful, elastic voice to drive the bouncy, laugh out loud funny “Karma the Knife,” the looped, rhythmic “Agua De Rosa,” and personal favorite (another song of the year contender!) “Lucifer Waiting.” Riding a thumping synth line, twinkling keys, a great low-end bass, and her own yells & yelps; Garcia lets her enunciation take the song places. The way she draws out the “Luuuuucifer” and the way she stacks up “waiting in the cooorrrrnnneerrrr.” Cha Cha Palace is a masterpiece and Garcia’s vocals & rhythms will take you on a journey through Mexico, Salvador, & Virginia, before ending up right back in east LA where, as Garcia would put it “In American identity, there is no one face.”

       “Born of the bones from under east LA / Cultura Chicana is alive today / I want some freedom with my pan dulce / Been wearing my roots & flying this flag / I see you but you don’t see me / Jicama! Jicama! Guava tree / I’ve been trying to tell you but you just don’t see / Like you I was born in this country...”

ANJIMILE   /   Giver Taker

       I was late to the party on Anjimile, but Giver Taker has been a comforting companion during the last few tumultuous months of 2020 here in Denver. Part of the allure of Anjimile (full name Anjimile Chithambo, but they release music as simply Anjimile-emphasis on the “Jim” please) is that these songs have been growing and being rebuilt & remade for quite some time, much like the maker themselves. Billed as a debut album (out on Father Daughter Records-I went ahead and hit for the cycle, that’s what I call buying the vinyl, CD, AND cassette!) many of the songs on Giver Taker have been around for years, solo versions & demos Anjimile recorded by themselves, found here fleshed out with gorgeous, layered production & instrumentation. Chorally trained, Anjimile’s distinctive voice drives these songs, at times stately & elegant (like in the measured “1978″ and the blooming “Your Tree”), but with the capability to be sultry & charming like on the bouncy, effervescent “Baby No More.” The instruments on Giver Taker are lovely; horns, strings, reeds, banjo, congas, all played by a full cast of collaborators. Much like Angelica Garcia wearing her roots on her own 2020 album (see above!), Anjimile’s roots are found all over Giver Taker. The gorgeous album cover painting has a background of sugarcane plants, native to Malawi (where Anjimile’s family is from) and behind that, the river from “The Lion King” (one of Anjimile’s favorite films!) “Maker” deals with Anjimile’s spirituality, and the idea that, as they put it... 

"The realization that just as I could build my own sense of spirituality & build my own faith and relate to a God of my understanding, I could do the same thing with my gender and my sexuality. And that's what I did.” 

       In “Ndimakukonda” Anjimile sings in their parent’s native Chichewa, and powerful closer “To Meet You There” sticks with you long after the album ends. From a gorgeous finger-picked opening, the stage is set.  A hurricane off the coast of Florida, a queer, trans kid searching from Texas to Florida to Boston for the truth. Simple words about the end, or maybe the beginning. Then the song swells with drums & strings & horns and transports you away from any of those states, dancing through clouds & waterfalls, maybe with Zazu & Simba & Nala. Voices swell, singing along with Anjimile, lifting up praise “I celebrate your celebration! I revel in your revelation! I holler in your hallelujah! In plain view your azaleas grew!” an inspiring ending to a truly inspirational & exciting album. 

       “After death, after life / I was up half the night / Hurricane never came / Not for me, not again...:

AMERICAN AQUARIUM   /   Lamentations

       There is a point about two minutes and 46 seconds into American Aquarium’s dramatic, title track opener “Me & Mine (Lamentations)” that makes me feel something every time I hear it. The song starts simply enough. A finger picked acoustic guitar (maybe it’s his trademark 1968 cherry red Gibson J45?!) and BJ Barham’s trademark North Carolina drawl singing about blue collar hard luck. The farmers, the coal miners, his grandfather, the hard work, but also the Darkness on the Edge of Town, “unpaid bills, broken homes, & opioid addiction.” The true story of the disenfranchised American South. Another sad one from the king of sad songs. But then... He pivots. The same pivot Barham used to change his life from alcoholic, road-worn, burnout, to his current credo of hard work & effort. A glimmer of hope as he growls “You see me & mine we ain’t the kind to sit around, idle & complain!” With that, a minor note rings out and the song plunges headlong into a true anthem. This isn’t your typical folk/country/pop/flannel/americana whatever bullshit. American Aquarium will punch you in the face with songs about the value of hard work and standing up for what you believe in. The last three minutes of “Me & Mine” explode into fuzzed out electric guitar, signifying that Lamentations (their eighth studio album!) is deeper and more meaningful than anything American Aquarium has done before. Songs about fighting to change your bad habits & addictions. Songs about challenging your parents religion and calling out (and maybe internet shaming!) your racist uncle. From the southern Petty-ness of sing-alongs “Before the Dogwood Blooms” and “Starts With You” (one of the songs I sang the loudest to in my car this year) to the expected sad ones, and even a special, dark one named after North Carolina tobacco (”Brightleaf & Burley”) about the socioeconomic impact of the illegalization of marijuana in the South! Throughout Lamentations rings with American influences, but challenges current American values. 

       This is not a band that I would’ve picked as one of my favorite current bands. It makes sense actually, looking back. I grew up on country radio in western slope Rifle, Colorado. KMTS played Garth, Tim McGraw, Travis Tritt, Toby, Kenny, Dierks, and all my high school friends were gun-shooting, camping, fishing good ol’ boys. Later in college, I fell again for Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan, FGL, etc cuz it was “country.” I always knew that Petty, Springsteen, Fleetwood, & Neil Young were technically better, but it’s hard to deny a good pop-country sing along chorus when you’re four beers deep and riding windows-down on a dirt road. Hell, even Phoebe Bridgers (keep reading-if you didn’t think Punisher would make this list you’re crazy!) sings about singing along to some “America first rap-country song.” (Spoiler alert, she’s talking about how modern country isn’t actually country, and not Lil Nas X. “Old Town Road” rules and i know 100% that Phoebe & BJ & Darius Rucker would agree!). Anyway, back to the American Aquarium mythology. I saw them on a whim, drunk & newly single at the Marquis Theater (holy goddamn do I miss the Marquis and LIVE MUSIC!) back in late Summer 2015. I ordered a Tecate tall boy at the bar (the 24oz kind) and worked my way into a diehard crowd drinking & singing along. Wolves was brand new and BJ opened with “Man I’m Supposed To Be.” I hadn’t been to many small shows like that at that time (been to a couple hundred since!) and I loved how people sang & danced & drank & ACTUALLY SANG! When the Burn. Flicker. Die. songs hit, I was hooked. Over the last five years I’ve had a blast at every AA show and I’ve come to appreciate the value of live, original, independent, rock & roll! I appreciate how BJ encourages us to work hard, get lucky, and GET BETTER! When the time comes (maybe not till we’re all vaccinated and it’s 2022 or whatever) I can’t wait to hear these songs the way American Aquarium intended. I’m going to walk into a dark, sweaty rock&roll club, I’ll order a Mexican beer and a shot of American whiskey, crowd in with people, and I’m gonna sing along to "The Luckier You Get” so fucking loud. 

       “I was born in the shade of a longleaf pine / The proud southern son of Caroline / Proud of who I am & where I’m from / But I ain’t so proud of how far we’ve come... / Down here we’re still fighting for all the wrong reasons / Old men still defend these monuments to treason / To the right side of history, we’re always late / Still arguing the difference between heritage & hate / The only dream that ain’t worth having / Is the one you won’t chase down / They say sing your songs, boy & shut your mouth / But I believe in a better South...”

AMERICAN TRAPPIST   /   The Gate

       There are two specific moments on The Gate that I especially love. If you’ve followed my yearly favorites list at all, you know that Joe Michelini (who fronts American Trappist & fronted River City Extension) is one of my favorite living songwriters. But after the relative lightheartedness of 2018′s Tentanda Via, 2016′s self-titled, & 2012′s Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Your Anger (miss you River City!) The Gate is a goddamn dark, noisy masterpiece. The guitars are heavier, multiple songs contain 1-3 minute instrumental intros before the vocals enter, and frontman Michelini cuts loose with loud whoops (exclamations? yells? excited moments of pure joy/energy/anger release?!) that are captured perfectly just as the songs hit their respective peaks. The first moment is found on track three, as the laid-back guitar of the backwards-looking “Moses (Revisited)” starts to really pick up. At four-&-a-half minutes, another guitar enters and Michelini starts to quicken his pace. “Have you got something to say?” he asks more urgently, then as the guitars start to really wail “Ask me how I felt, living like I was. My future on the run...” Then he hollers and the guitar explodes into a monstrous solo. Most of the album is contained between that whoop and the next whoop not encountered till track 10. In between, “...Rides Again” recalls River City Extension’s under-appreciated farewell album Deliverance with it’s more uplifting, wandering guitar, and the title track uses a mix of whispery vocals, repetitive falsetto, and an ungodly low baritone to create a vampire-y “Unfresh Dirtwolf” vibe. “Active Recovery” rides a straight forward rock & roll riff and near-spoken-word delivery into a delightfully fuzzy guitar solo. Finally we’ve reached my personal favorite, get on the big train and take a ride with “The Real Thing.” If you’ve paid attention at all, this is a classic American Trappist tune. A repeating, echoing riff, a steady drive, and then three minutes in, the song just jumps the tracks and grows wings. The kind of song that makes me want to be back at live shows. The kind of song that makes me want to be drinking cheap beer at Larimer Lounge, hugging the east wall, sweat & noise & rock & roll, “what if love was nothing like the real thing?...” and then Michelini bookends the “Moses...” whoop with another one, setting it free. The music so energized & electric that I whoop along without realizing it. I wrote a little more about my special connection with The Gate this year (besides for those whoop-alongs!) a Retrospective Anthology Mix I made for myself and The Mix I traded (along with a pair of brand new red shoelaces!) for an advanced copy of The Gate way back in April! Thanks American Trappist! As long as you keep making em, I’ll keep putting em my end of the year favorites list. The Gate is special.

       “I’m decomposing, underreacting / I do the right thing but nothing happens / It is within me / It is within me to love somebody...”

BARTEES STRANGE   /   Live Forever

       The songs on Bartees Strange’s debut album Live Forever carry an instant sense of Nostalgia & familiarity. Maybe it’s the mix of influences that I love (Bon Iver, Fall Out Boy, mid 2000′s emo, pop-rock, & hip-hop etc...!) maybe it’s the way Bartees manages to make those “old” influences sound new, fresh, exciting, and completely at home with his voice & production. Whatever the reason, every time I hit play on Live Forever (usually in the kitchen, beer-in-hand), it feels like an old friend. It feels like I’ve known these songs for the last five years, like they’ve always existed. The way his voice twists around & around, up & down in “Jealousy,” the way the Aaron Dessner-esque guitars & synths stab in on “Mustang” (a nod to Bartees’ hometown of Mustang, OK), and the way “Boomer” wastes absolutely no time with it’s “Aye bruh aye bruh aye bruh” intro. Pure, comforting, exciting magic. 

       Bartees Leon Cox Jr. came up in a band as Bartees & The Strange Fruit. A nod to Nina Simone, a National covers EP (!), and a supercharged debut full length later, here we are in 2020 with Bartees showing up on a ton of end of the year lists. Bartees hails from Washington DC (by way of Mustang, Oklahoma) originally from England, son of an opera singer, lover of music. I am so thankful this album exists in this time and I (and a ton of other music fans get to enjoy it!) Bartees had made his technical debut (a The National covers album!) as a black kids’ response to not seeing enough people of color in the audience at National shows. When it comes to blending his influences, he talks about hip-hop saying “I love how rappers rap about dreams – money & cars & pretty girls & big houses & buying their mom a yacht. Expansive, out of this world, unbelievable shit, & sometimes they get it. It's like this very big Christian principle of like speaking things into existence in a way. When I look at rock music, it's like, ‘I'm sad.’ I'm like, ‘Yo, let's bring a hip-hop ethos to it.’ Like, I want to write rock songs about, like, ‘I want to be the biggest artist in the world.’” Big dreams Bartees, big dreams. I love Live Forever and I can’t wait to see what’s next!

       “To have a life you love but know you’re undeserving / Last night I got so fucked up, near lost my job / It’s nice to think that folks are near, waking up was hard this year...”

DUA LIPA   /   Future Nostalgia

        It seems like every year when I start creating this list, there is one big radio album that I listened to and loved so much, that it’s impossible not to include. Last year it was Lizzo, 2018 had Janelle Monae, & 2017 Kendrick Lamar. This year that big, undeniable pop radio album is Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia. With nods to a wide swath of club genres, as well as pop, disco, & funk, 25 year old Dua Lipa sounds confident and full of swagger on her sophomore album. She’s already released a DJ mix alternate version of the entire album! It’s sometimes hard for me to describe why I love certain pop songs, but Future Nostalgia feels so easy.  Smooth synths & keys, elastic, rubbery basslines, a mix of Nostalgic (and maybe futuristic?!) influences, and Dua’s energetic vocals driving everyone to the dance floor. She channels Prince & The Beegees, mixing 70′s disco & 80′s funk, everything danceable, fluid, & modern. My favorite lyrical moments on the album are when she lets her feminism show through, like on the opening title track “No matter what you do I’m gonna get it without you. I know you ain’t used to a female alpha” and on the dark, catchy closer “Boys Will Be Boys” that talks about rape culture, mansplaining, & slut-shaming. But my personal favorite memories of Future Nostalgia come from taking it along on a few camping trips in the Colorado mountains. Criss-crossing the Continental Divide with the windows down, sunlight streaming through, belting out “If you don’t wanna see me, dancing with somebody!” to high alpine lakes & pine trees. 

       “Did a full 180, crazy / Thinking ‘bout the way I was / Did the heartache change me? Maybe / But look at where I ended up / I’m all good already / So moved on it’s scary / I’m not where you left me at all, so...”

EZRA FURMAN   /   To Them We’ll Always Be Freaks

LISTEN/BUY ON BANDCAMP       

       Ezra Furman is one of the most important, lifelong favorite artists that I discovered in 2020, and even though To Them We’ll Always Be Freaks isn’t exactly a proper new album (cannot fucking wait for the next one Ezra!) it only felt right to include this collection of demos and behind the scenes material from 2016′s unbelievable Transangelic Exodus on my 2020 list. The basic story is this, Ezra Furman makes a lot of music/records, solo or with a lot of musicians. The Harpoons, The Visions, by herself. They recall a lot of things; punk, soul, doo-wop, plain old American Rock & Roll, being yourself, being whoever you want to be, being alone, all the things that matter. For Transangelic Exodus she wanted to do something different, to abandon her instincts. To “get weird.” To make “A record of maximal impact, maximal originality & excitement.” If you haven’t heard Transangelic Exodus, it is all of those things and more. I recommend you wait till a cold night in your kitchen, pour yourself a stiff drink, & listen to it front-to-back... LOUD. I missed it in 2016 (& for a few years after) but I was lucky enough to hear Ezra in time to catch her at the Bluebird last year and it was one of the best live performance I’ve ever seen. Also, Bandcamp exclusives are what fueled my Friday mornings through Covid times, giving money to artists & causes that I love. Ezra has done SO MUCH since 2016 (last year’s Twelve Nudes is a pysch-punk masterpiece!) and To Them We’ll Always Be Freaks (aka Making Ourselves Up in the Rearview Mirror) (aka “Wing That Shit”) borrows its name from the absolutely transcendental, broadway-esque “Suck the Blood from My Wound” which was the opening track on Transangelic Exodus. It is a collection of “demos, rehearsals, & shots in the dark” from an important record that means a lot to a lot of people. Rather than diving into the fun differences of all these demo versions, I wanted to quote myself from February, the feelings that I had immediately after seeing Ezra that night, totally present at the Bluebird...

       I was able to be present for an hour and a half. To let go, to suspend, to kick against things and break down barriers that I have built myself in my own mind. It is so important to do that for ourselves and everyone has to work to find their own different methods of getting there. Some people never do, but it is still important for us to encourage & push them. A needling supportive jab of growth. For me, it has always been music. Most viscerally rock & roll (Ezra’s electric guitar playing stirs a power in my body & brain that I can’t put into words… like it could make me fly. Like Peregrine Falcon fucking fly. Or deadsprint all the way to San Francisco) but always all kinds of music. The power to broaden my horizons. To teach me things. To understand someone else. To see the world (politics, religion, sexuality, the true self, humankind) through new eyes. “Skin on my fingers peeling, making way for my new form.” To hear someone say who they are (who they really are) and to believe them. I want that for myself. To know who I really am. To feel beyond a shadow of a doubt, what I should do and who I should be. And to believe me. I am inspired by Ezra and hundreds of others, to push forward through doubt. To find myself even in the darkest shadows of doubt. To scream at doubt and befriend it. To wrap it up in the backseat of a red Camaro and keep driving. Last night I glimpsed something like Utopia. As Ezra says about her Jewish practice of Shabbat (google it!) “It’s like touching Utopia, weekly. It reminds us of what we want the world to be like” And it was like touching utopia. Like a breath of Spring breeze. Like change. Keep digging. All the way down. Till you’re standing upside down in an alternative world. It’s beautiful there, magic is possible. I know because… because well… Ezra told me.”

       “For the immigrant / For the refugee / For the closeted / For the out / For the vulnerable / For the homeless / For the searching / This record is an exercise in empathy / A ripening of nightmares & a sudden blooming of spirit / It’s a protest record / Dreamed in dark corners of the heart of a queer grandchild of Holocaust survivors / & what if you had to leave your home because the government was after you? / May our vulnerability & difference be a window into the lives of those who are deeply threatened by institutional callousness &  hatred / And may this spur us to great courage & kindness / ‘Do not oppress a foreigner: you know the feelings of the foreigner for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt’ Exodus 23:9...”

FIONA APPLE   /   Fetch The Bolt Cutters

       If you love end of the year lists as much as I do, then you’ve probably read enough about Fetch The Bolt Cutters already. In fact, a few of the albums on this list (spoiler alert, Phoebe & Sault coming! Keep reading!) were so good, so immediate, that my entire social media feed was filled with seemingly nothing else for days stretching into weeks. Fiona Apple coming out of hiding to release her first album in eight (?!) years was one of those moments. Thinkpieces, interviews, and then the inevitable, deserved flood of end of the year lists. As someone who missed most of Fiona in the 90′s and 2000′s, Fetch The Bolt Cutters felt like a revelation. Like finding a brand new, fresh faced artist, fully formed, rebellious, and 100% herself. Turns out Fiona has been doing this shit since I was 10 years old! With an aggressive, current-world-situation-necessitated title lifted from Gillian Anderson’s detective in “The Fall” (she’s trying to save a locked up woman from a serial killer) Fetch The Bolt Cutters is as determined & relentless as it sounds. Pianos twinkle & spiral, drums pound & knock, Dogs bark (one of them is her pit-bull-boxer mix Mercy), pots & pans bang, bells ring, and Fiona herself uses her voice as one of the most versatile instruments, shrieking & whispering, hissing & howling, defiant & absolutely riveting. In fact, almost everything about the music that Fiona Apple makes is head turning and Fetch The Bolt Cutters reminds me of so many things that made me fall in love with music in the first place. It feels free & it makes me feel free. She defied her record label who wanted her to follow a normal album rollout for an October release, and released it in April instead because she felt like it was needed at the time. She recorded most of the album at her house, on garageband and her iPhone. The songs are angry, defeated, cathartic, triumphant, & sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. Her writing is honest & heartfelt, working through trauma for herself from as far back as middle school. Fiona refers to her brain-stuff-writing as balls of yarn saying...

“You’ve got these stories you’re not telling anybody. Each one of those stories is like this little ball of yarn. If you don’t express them, they end up getting tangled together inside. Then it’s really hard to sort through them. I got some balls of yarn out in this album and wove them into something I can actually work with...” 

       Through it all, Apple’s vocals, lyrics, & rhythms are so fresh, so innovative, so exciting, that I feel like I’ve discovered a brand new artist. Thanks Fiona for unraveling that yarn for the last 25 years!

       “Hurricane Gloria in excelsis deo / That’s my bird in my tree / My dog & my man & my music is my holy trinity / Tony told me he’d describe me as ‘pissed off, funny, & warm’ / Sebastian said I’m ‘a good man in a storm’ / Back then I didn’t know what potential meant / & Shemeika wasn’t gentle & she wasn’t my friend / But she got through to me & I’ll never see her again / I’m pissed off, funny, & warm / I’m a good man in a storm / & when the fall is torrential I’ll recall / Shameika said I had potential...” 

JOY OLADOKUN   /   in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1)

       Joy Oladokun grew up going to church religiously in small town Arizona. Inspired to play guitar by seeing Tracy Chapman on VHS, she wrote her first song about Aragorn from “Lord of The Rings”. There are parts of Joy’s music, truths in the deep, deep melodies & lyrics that I will never understand. She is a Queer, Black woman born to Nigerian parents, dealing with (and singing about) life challenges that I will never know. But then, there is also a magic & familiarity that I feel in Joy’s songs, because we have connections that only we can have. Connections that come from thinking about the same things from our formative years. The way she writes about growing up in the church, the way she challenges the church, the way she pushes her family & friends still in the church to be better. Musically, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1) (all lowercase please!) sounds like Joy’s own map of America. Folky, woodsy Arizona, some LA soul & production, and big Nashville choruses, like contemporary radio. But the writing found in these songs is different & essential. Effortlessly cool lead single “Smoke” opens the album with the line “yesterday I left my joint sitting on the counter...” Oh yeah, she loves to get high! (sorry church, I’m 100% sure Jesus doesn’t care about marijuana!) Riding an undeniably catchy chorus, and drums & keys that carry the song down a blacktop road, this one got a TON of play this Summer when we in Colorado were trapped in wildfire smoke and I made my littlest sister this Smoke & Fire Mix. After “Smoke” she tackles identity & religion on the Mat Kearney-esque (look him up!) Nashville folk-pop of “Sunday” & “Bad Blood” saying,

"The biggest privilege of being a songwriter is being able to write the type of song that I needed to hear when I was younger, 'Sunday' is the song that 12-year-old Joy, seated in the back of church youth group, needed to hear. She needed to hear that you can be queer & happy. Queer & healthy. Queer & holy. She needed to see married women kissing & playing with their kids." 

       It’s inspiring that Joy chooses to use the word privilege in that quote instead of responsibility. The privilege of being a songwriter is the impact you can have on others. Joy has been outspoken about social justice, both inside & outside the church, and has continued to release singles challenging the racism running rampant in America. Her heartbreaking “Who Do I Turn To?” deals with the fear that comes with simply being black in America. “Mercy” features a verse from rapper Tim Gent and touches on the current pandemic (and the off-the-deep-end religious turn Kanye has taken). Finally the album closes with the gorgeous, finger-picked, I-wanna-do-better ballad “Too High” (oh yeah, when she gets high she gets... too high!) and “Younger Days.” A peaceful, soul-inflected closer, with Joy’s vocals swelling & wandering through her life & memories to the conclusion “Who I was would be proud to see the person I became...”

       “Sometimes I get jealous of jesus for falling asleep in the middle of the storm / Sometimes you gotta feel like drowning to be reborn / Oh I haven’t slept in three days / I know I’ve gotta find my way / Through all of this smoke...”

THE KILLERS   /   Imploding The Mirage

       I knew Imploding The Mirage would be on my 2020 Favorites list months before it was actually released. It reminded of when Josh Ritter released some super important singles during the Summer/Fall 2015 (a very transformational time for me). Similarly the singles from Imploding The Mirage (The Killers sixth studio album!) came right on time earlier this Spring & Summer. Mirage’s first single was the classic Killers get-out-of-town anthem “Caution” and it arrived on March 12, early on in the pandemic and under stay-at-home orders. “Caution” introduced me to “the featherweight queen” and found me many nights dancing in the kitchen, the volume turned up on Lindsay Buckingham’s wailing outro guitar solo. “Caution” was my number one most streamed song on Spotify in 2020. After that came “Fire In Bone.” A groovier track, released in April with gorgeous peacock single art (the only art from the album that isn’t painted by the wonderful Thomas Blackshear) and fallen for in June, dancing with my brothers & sisters at the lake, one of the first times we had hung out during quarantine. One of my goals with this year’s list is to remember the exact moments when I fell in love with a song or album, and that moment for Imploding The Mirage was playing “Fire In Bone,” right here...

       Shortly after that, opening track “My Own Soul’s Warning” had me dancing in the shower and the lovesick, ultimate Flowers jam “Dying Breed” had me rolling down my windows and belting along till August when Imploding The Mirage finally got it’s official release. I have non-guilty-pleasure-loved The Killers since Hot Fuss (and accidentally downloaded a virus on my best friends desktop computer trying to download a "Mr Brightside” acoustic version off of some weird site on dial-up internet in Silt, Colorado in the mid-2000s!) and it’s exciting to know that Flowers & Co. can still do something that sounds phenomenal (thanks Shawn Everett!) in 2020. Oh and... word on the street is that they got a follow up coming in early 2021 so yeah... The Killers killin’ it. 

       “Cause it’s some kind of sin / To live your whole life / On a might’ve been / I’m ready now / I’m throwing caution / What’s it gonna be? / Tonight the winds of change are blowing wild & free...”

MIPSO   /   Mipso

       After years of encouragement, and with gentle but insistent nudges from my partner’s father; Chapel Hill, North Carolina’s Mipso finally made it on my end of the year Favorites list with their sixth full length album! I had seen them way back in 2016 at the Lost Lake Lounge here in Denver (probably on his recommendation), they were touring on their first few albums, still more bluegrass-y, but I loved them and I loved their “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” cover. Since then, Lila’s dad would send us their music, send us stickers through the good ol’ USPS, and Mipso kept honing their craft. Smoothing out their folk, adding pop influences, with sharp songwriting, and warm, Appalachian instrumentation. And, as Lila’s dad says, if you close your eyes, it might as well be Paul Simon singing. 

       The four members of Mipso share songwriting and frontperson duties equally and each member brings their own depth & humor to the band. Guitarist Joseph Terrell’s (he’s the Paul Simon sound-alike) songs are brighter & folkier. “Never Knew You Were Gone” is a gorgeously, wistful, violin-led, apocalyptic opener. “Hey Coyote” reminds me of Christopher Porterfield & Field Report from Wisconsin, with it’s gentle plucking and mystical lyrics about Wile E. Coyote & Coyotl, the Native American mythology version of the trickster. “Help” is maybe the biggest & darkest folk tune on the album, a minor tinged, string-y  burner, that dives into a huge chorus. Mandolinist Jacob Sharp leads the rhythmic & driving “Hourglass” and the late-night rain of “Just Want To Be Loved.” Double Bassist Wood Robinson gets in on the fun with the comforting, wandering of “Shelter.” But it is violinist Libby Rodenbough’s contributions to the album that make it truly great. Her impassioned vocals & lyrics command “Your Body” over an insistent banjo. She visits the darkness on the enchanting, cheater’s tale “Like You Never” and revisits the apocalypse mentioned in track one, on her rollicking closer “Wallpaper Baby.” Finally, it is her tender folk that ties the whole story together on “Big Star.” She sings of the end of time; of swimming & Summer & Colorado. A true classic, a lost Gregory Alan Isakov telescope, mountain stream tune. In the zine accompanying Mipso’s release, they introduce the album this way...

       “Future Readers,

Times are tough. You probably know this... Shit has lately been hitting the fan in a big way. Maybe chickens coming home to roost is a better metaphor, since we’re talking about history. Maybe a bunch of chickens have roosted on a giant fan, and they’re finally shitting... We recorded the album back in the latter half of 2019. when all We The People had to worry about was rampant income inequality, a sham democracy, & rising oceans. Ah, the good old days. At least now people can’t pretend it isn’t there. Beats the nineties! A Japanese theme park recently released a set of guidelines aimed at reducing the spread of airborne droplets of the virus on rollercoasters. ‘Please scream inside your heart’ they said. We hope you enjoy our album.” 

       Thanks Mipso, this one is special. And thanks Lee Cummings! From Chapel Hill to Ashville, Carrboro to Greensboro, this is an album I’ll hold onto for awhile. 

       “We went down to the water / With a blanket in the back / Had some candy from Colorado / Let the sunlight lay us flat / I awoke from the strangest vision / You & me at the end of time / Would you believe that big star was missing / But I found in your eye... / We went down to the water / When the red was in the clouds / Cracked the windows like kid summer / Like we were breaking out / We went down to the water / Never mind the rising tide / After all we are the daughters / Of unbelievers running wild...”

PHOEBE BRIDGERS   /   Punisher

       The Phoebe Bridgers mythology grows with every tweet, every guest feature, every new project, every new skeleton suit, and every Grammy nomination. It’s almost hard to believe Punisher is only her second solo full length, but if you’re following the fake_nudes mythology you know that she’s been busy in the years between Stranger in the Alps (her impressive debut) and Punisher. She formed supergroups with Lucy Dacus & Julien Baker (boygenius) and Conor Oberst (find Better Oblivion Community Center on my 2019 Favorites list). If you’ve talked to me about music this year at all, you know that Punisher has been a favorite talking point, as much for its typically dark Phoebe masterpieces about mental health, alien abduction, & depression, as for how it has overtaken the entire indie world. Phoebe fucking Bridgers has achieved legend status. The day I fell in love with Punisher was September 1st, when I hiked up across from Red Rocks Amphitheater to stream Phoebe playing THIS show and gaze longingly at the Rocks, wishing I could be inside. Watching a full moon (song) come up in the West, Phoebe playing to my East, drinking beer & reading lyrics, It was cathartic & special but goddamn did I miss live music in 2020. 

       Ok... on to the songs. Punisher begins innocently enou... umm... it actually begins with a TERRIFYING minute of soft, unsettling sound, a “DVD Menu” track playing after the horror movie has ended, that moment when you’re both sitting there, stunned & pale, too scared to get up and go turn the light on, googling “______ movie ending explained,” and considering death, dismemberment, and I don’t know, alien abduction. I burned myself my own Punisher CD with “DVD Menu” as both the opening & closing tracks because... (spoiler alert) I Know The End. Getting up to turn the light on doesn’t help much, as “Garden Song” is a haunting, ear-worming, whisper of a song that tells a decidedly LA (most of these songs reference SoCal in some way and I love it!) tale about the Rose Parade, killing nazis, growing a garden, and ends with a happy plot twist. Surprise, Phoebe’s got everything she wanted! “Kyoto” was the big single (the “Motion Sickness” as it were), a green screen miracle, a monster uplift of a chorus complete with horns, finds Phoebe singing about boredom & international travel. I personally love the back-to-back of “Chinese Satellite” & “Moon Song” and I feel like they capture Phoebe’s ability to combine the mundane & the heartbreaking & the wryly funny all in the same couplet. She has a lot of great jokes hidden on Punisher (why aren’t more people talking about how funny she is?!) like when she ends “Kyoto” singing “Guess I lied. I’m a liar, who lies. Cause I’m a liar.” There’s a jogging joke in “Chinese Satellite” (a song about not believing in God) about running around “Why would somebody do this on purpose?” and in “I See You” she sneaks in “If you’re a work of art, I’m standing too close!” and if you know the joke in “I Know The End” then you know! That brings us to the emotional centerpiece of closer “I Know The End.” A true road song, written on an epic road trip Phoebe took through Northern California; all Wizard of Oz, Arcade-Fire-Mountains-Beyond-Mountains-Sprawl past outlet malls, all the way to the end of the world. I won’t spoil the ending if you haven’t heard it, but it’s a cathartic, deserving send off to 2020, and I’ve screamed out loud to it in my car more than anything else this year. Love you Phoebe, Love Punisher, absolutely can’t wait to see what’s next.

       “Driving out into the sun / Let the ultraviolet cover me up / Went looking for a creation myth / Ended up with a pair of cracked lips / Windows down, scream along / To some America first rap-country song / A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall / Slot machines, fear of God / Windows down, heater on / Big bolt of lightning hanging low / Over the coast, everyone’s convinced / It’s a government drone or an alien spaceship / Either way, we’re not alone / I’ll find a new place to be from / A haunted house, with a picket fence / To float around & ghost my friends / I’m not afraid to disappear / The billboard said ‘The End Is Near’ / I turned around, there was nothing there / Yeah, I guess the end is here...”

ROACHE, MOONCHILD, KILEY   /   Improvised Sessions   

LISTEN/BUY ON BANDCAMP       

       I have so much fun making this list every year. I start a draft in January, update and change things as the year goes on, and agonize over my final cuts until usually December (or sometimes January of the next year or later!) I enjoy writing about why I loved the albums I chose, and I enjoy reading everyone else’s end of the year lists and finding new favorites. I also love the randomness of it all, and I love love LOVE that albums like Roache, Moonchild, Kiley Improvised Sessions exist. This album was released exclusively for free (or name-your-price!) to bandcamp on Christmas Day, features almost no vocals, a wide swath of exciting instrumental music. Mostly electronic, guitars, keyboards, & drums; at times abrasive, at times relaxing, a true masterpiece. Long live Bandcamp! What can I tell you about Roache, Moonchild, Kiley? Honestly not much! I know of them from seeing Fiona Moonchild absolutely shred guitar for Scott Yoder on a tiny stage at the Lion’s Lair on Colfax in early 2019. She was theatric & phenomenal, equal parts Bowie & Heavy Temple, Mazzy Star & The umm... Beatles?! One the greatest live shows I’ve ever seen (small venue or otherwise) & then Yoder, Moonchild & crew packed up and headed back to the Pacific Northwest. Roache was a new find, singer, artist, instrumentalist (harmonica maybe? the credits are minimal!) and Conor Kiley is an unknown. The music is alluring. The first four tracks (”First” “Second” “Third” & “Fourth” obviously!) swing between bouncy, noisy, jazzy piano, and down tempo grooves. “Desert Underground” employs a mournful harmonica over plinking Western guitar and “Fire” brings fuzzed out, grungy guitar and finally some growling vocals from Roache. The last two tracks put everything to bed instrumentally and the album fades out into bandcamp obscurity. The credits provide only a few hints to the recording saying...

“A cathartic release, recorded on tape in the Summer of 2020. This album was recorded on occupied Duwamish land.”

SAMANTHA CRAIN   /   A Small Death

       Samantha Crain is a Choctaw songwriter from Shawnee, Oklahoma. She is six days younger than this writer (34!) and has been putting out strong, sturdy-but-tender folk albums since 2007. On her sixth full length, 2020′s A Small Death, Crain writes about the mundane and the essential in a way that brings her stories and her truth to electrifying life. Blooming from front to back with energy, depth, emotion, & powerful instrumentation, A Small Death is one of my most favorite albums of this year. When Crain announced A Small Death, she referenced the title as the idea that “everything is always starting over again, all the time.” She talked about her own experience with starting over after multiple car accidents had left her immobilized, unable to use her hands, unsure if this album (or any album) would ever be made by her again. You can hear in these songs her frustration and her defeatedness, but also her celebration, her determination. From the desperate swell of gorgeous first single and opener “An Echo” to the ebullient push of “Pastime,” and the resigned melancholy of “Tough For You.” Crain’s instrumentation holds up to the songwriting, and her band uses flourishes of trumpet, clarinet, accordion, saxophone, and pedal steel (both the mournful-country kind in the late-night-heartache of “High Horse” and the honky-tonk country kind in the blistering, defiant closer “Little Bits”). Crain touches on her Choctaw heritage proudly, both in “Holding to the Edge of Night” when she sings “I am a legend of this land here; I am a keeper of this life.” and most notably in the penultimate track “When We Remain” sung in Choctaw, a tradition Crain carries over from her 2017 album You Had Me At Goodbye.  Crain’s songwriting is wonderfully intimate, A Small Death is full of deeply personal memories, old friends, roommate challenges, love, & ephemera (a bar tab, a parking ticket, photo booth strips, stubs from movies & baseball games, an 8-ball, a $20 dollar bill!) 

       My favorite tracks are the louder ones, “Reunion” is a bouncy, soulful swing about seeing high school friends and “watching exes eye the spouses, but I came alone, I think it’s glamourous.” Haha! “Garden Dove” rides a straight up NIrvana/grunge riff into a bellowing love song. I’ll close by sharing my two favorite personal memories with A Small Death. In July, I had streamed the record but probably hadn’t really heard it you know? (there was a lot going on this Summer) and Chris Porterfield from Field Report (his new one Brake Light Red Tide is beautiful, though not on this list!) posted about “Holding to the Edge of Night” after midnight saying... “I dare you to go outside and listen to this song right now. This new Samantha Crain record is everything.” Naturally I took the dare, walked out under the moon, and laid down on the sidewalk to actually listen to “Holding to the Edge of Night” I felt, as Crain so deeply & eloquently puts it that “evening was my prize.” A truly great, classic song that I will listen to on night walks for the rest of my life. Lastly, in August, for my birthday, my partner asked me to pick a record to listen to, and she made fancy drinks to-go in Denver’s Cheeseman Park. Watching the sunset from the hill under the columns at Cheesman and thinking about how Crain talks about memory in “Joey” when she sings...

       “Sometimes I feel like my memories never happened. Could you remind me, take me back for a night? Was it ever real? I don’t feel like that girl anymore. Was it heavenly? I don’t even see through those eyes anymore. A hundred small deaths, a hundred before. I am a revolving door. I am a revolving door...”

       “What’s that silence inside me that expands into the dark? / With the traffic lights all changing for no one anymore / The karaoke laughter tumbling out the door / My eyes well with contemplation of the pleasures I endure / Holding to the edge of night...”

SAULT   /   Untitled (Black Is)

       Where to start with Sault?! They put out two albums this year?! They put out two albums last year?! Nobody knows exactly who is in the band?! Sault is what I love about music, what I love about new music! I wrote an alternative version of this list where I referenced everyone who has released two albums this year (?!) because honestly I like Sault’s second of the year album Untitled (Rise) a whole lot too! I mean Bartees had his album of National covers, Phoebe has her orchestral Punisher companion EP, Shamir has two very different exciting records!, not to mention Hiss Golden Messenger’s two full live albums and uh... Folklore & Evermore. But anyway, what can I tell you about Sault that you haven’t read on however many end of the year lists already?! A collective of young artists, internet sleuthing has led me to believe possible members include London soul singer Cleo Sol, American rapper Kid Sister, & producer Inflo. A wonderfully rich blending of genres: R&B, house, disco, post-punk, boogie, dub, gospel, reggae, funk, soul, spoken-word, & protest chants. 

       Released into a world in turmoil, with Black Lives Matter protests erupting outside my door, Untitled (Black Is) is an album very specifically not made for me. Released into a world that I’m a part of. Protesting injustices in a system that I work within. Music with a purpose. Music so rich & wonderful, with a message we cannot continue to ignore. The only response I could have to Sault’s albums is to do better. To work harder. To take to the streets. To call out systemic racism so embedded in our culture, in my workplace, in my friend groups, in my family. When they released the album on June 12, it was posted with these words...

“We present our first ‘Untitled’ album to mark a moment in time where we as Black People, & of Black Origin are fighting for our lives. RIP George Floyd & all those who have suffered from police brutality & systemic racism. Change is happening... We are focused. Sault x”

I feel grateful & lucky to listen to & learn from Sault.

       “Thief in the night / Tell the truth / White lives / Spreading lies / You should be ashamed / The bloodshed on your hands / Another man / Take off your badge / We all know it was murder...”

SHAMIR   /   Shamir

       Shamir Bailey waited until album number seven (and his second album of 2020!) to release a self-titled album. Shamir is worth the wait. A glimmering, mesmerizing rock&roll masterpiece, full of experienced songwriting, noisy electric guitars, and shiny pop grooves; these are some of my favorite songs of the year. Las Vegas by way of Philadelphia, Shamir has built a DIY career in the indie scene by releasing seven albums in five years. He has honed his songwriting & sound, pushing himself far from his (admittedly popular & wonderful) dance debut Ratchet in 2015. One of the things I noticed about my list this year (and about my music tastes in general) is my ever growing affinity for strong vocal performances. From Angelica Garcia to Anjimile, Fiona Apple & Joy Oladokun, a bunch of the albums I loved this year stand out for their vocals. Shamir’s strong & versatile voice guides every song on the album and makes for fascinating listening. Lead single and track one “On My Own” came into my life at some mask-wearing, socially distanced outdoor hang this June, and quickly made it on to just about every Summer playlist after. It’s huge & memorable, with stabs of crunchy Pixies electric guitar and proud, loner-anthem lyrics. "Other Side” is the one that should have got massive radio airplay, all rolling drums, country western tinged (is that not a banjo I hear Shamir?) with shimmering Orville-Peck-bedazzled-suit-&-a-retro-microphone production leading a mega singalong chorus! Finally, between interspersed clips of talking that Shamir describes as “Field recordings of me with my friends-just being ridiculous” personal favorite “Diet” rides a choppy, 90′s alt-rock guitar to a blistering chorus that compares vampires sucking blood to getting to know someone! Ha! I can’t wait for Shamir to bring some of these songs through Denver on tour! It’s not too late to hop on the Shamir bandwagon!

       “Couldn't take it anymore / Where do I begin? / I'll get around to it after a glass of gin / I prefer to be alone, but you can join if you like / I'll stay strong for you 'cause I don't want to be seen when I cry / Done giving up my light / Just to stay in the dark...”

SOTOMAYOR   /   Origenes

       Sotomayor is a brother/sister duo from Mexico City who blend traditional Latin & Central American cumbia with other world rhythms & styles (electro, afrobeat, dancehall, merengue, peruvian chica!) on their truly magical third full length Origenes. One of my favorite concert series of the last few Summers has been Levitt Pavilion’s free outdoor concerts in Ruby Hill Park here in Denver. They introduced me to Sotomayor back in 2018. Picture enormous rolling grassy hills, kids laughing & playing & singing, tall cans, picnic dinners, & DANCING! Siblings Raul & Paulina Sotomayor worked with 28-time Latin Grammy winner Eduardo Cabra (Calle 13) recording between Mexico and Puerto Rico to release Origenes (translates to “origins”) on New York based independent label Wonderwheel. They have expanded their palette, making dance music to get bodies moving at clubs & dancehalls across the world, and the percussion throughout Origines is relentless, hypnotic, and downright sweaty fun! Paulina’s voice glides effortless over top of it all, sometimes strong & commanding, sometimes slipping sweet & sultry between synths or stabs of latin guitar. As a dance duo with Raul on beats and Paulina on vocals (they perform with a live band) the Sylvan Esso comparisons are unavoidable. I love you Nick & Amelia and I love Free Love, but Sotomayor has got me dancing in the kitchen cooking Hello Fresh more than a few times this year! Origenes is not to be missed!

       “No sé por qué, pero me ha pasado / Que nunca lo he olvidado / Que aquellos ratos que rompen los platos / Aquellas historias que guardan las olas / Pequeñas esporas, momentos a solas / Se desempolvan viejas memorias / Nunca es tarde para recordar / Lo que nos une...”

       ““I don't know why, but it has happened to me / That I have never forgotten / That those moments that break dishes / Those stories that the waves keep / Little spores, moments alone / Old memories are dusted / It is never too late to remember / What unites us...”

SPILLAGE VILLAGE   /   Spilligion

       The story of Spillage Village recording Spilligion (the Atlanta supergroup’s fourth full length album) is the stuff that will always make me remember the state of music in 2020. Spillage Village is an Atlanta collective comprised of the EARTHGANG duo (you may remember them from my 2019 Favorites list!) and a bunch of other collaborators (more on them later). Rapper & singer J.I.D. had rented a house in West Atlanta to work on his own third solo album, but when the pandemic hit, he invited the other members of Spillage Village to shelter-in-place and they all hit record. The result is a journal-entry-like album of the 2020 Covid pandemic, songs both uplifting & depressing, a group of musicians analyzing & expressing their feelings the best way they know how, through music. During their recording quarantine, they bonded over yoga, smoking weed, board games (monopoly & trouble), campfire s’mores, and talking current events & politics. Through it all, the music they were making was hopeful, forward looking, and religious. EARTHGANG’s Doctor Dot & Johnny Venus drive the rapping with J.I.D., but Mereba is their not-so-secret weapon. Her singing & rapping on the Sunday afternoon soul of “PsalmSing” and Coldplay-off-key piano of “Hapi” is inspiring & memorable. Brothers Benji & Cristo add production & basslines, Chance The Rapper makes a guest appearance, and closer “Jupiter” sounds like a darker, woodsier Avicii & Aloe Blacc track, backed by campfire acoustic guitars & banjos. Personal favorite, the apocalyptic “End of Daze” rides strong verses from almost everyone, references Pascal Siakim, Ronald Reagan, Nipsey Hussle, Sun Tzu, Damn Daniel, MF Doom (RIP), Future, Jesus, & Satan! Spilligion is the result of friends & collaborators, taking on 2020, stuck inside, making music & memories, marking a year unlike anything any of us have seen so far. When I look back, Spillage Village will be one of the bands that helped me mark my weird time & space this year. 

       “When I make it to the heavens, what's the code? Do I call a phone? / Security at the gate, no plus one, come all alone? / All along the race of life, I took a jog alone / Along the coast, I'm tryna cope, I raise a toast / & we consulted with the Most High / She told me watch my back, front, both sides / Hit a few baddies you never smashed 'fore y'all both die / Let the smoke rise, take the bodies to the crypts / & when the poor people run out of food, they can eat the rich...”

TAYLOR SWIFT   /   Evermore

       One of the main themes I found while making my 2020 Favorites list is comfort. This year, I turned to familiar music for comfort, and I have been a Taylor Swift fan since 2010. I love Evermore (I also loved Folklore) and I love how it makes me feel young and makes me think of memories from my 20′s. Growing up listening to country radio, I got “Teardrops on My Guitar” & “Tim McGraw” as I headed off to college. Then, I jumped then fell for Fearless while laying hardwood floors in Aspen, Colorado in the Fall of 2010. My best friend (Hey Stephen!) introduced me to Taylor as a gifted songwriter who has grown & matured over the years, but still every bit as intelligent and full of wonder & fairytale feelings on Evermore. That was right before Speak Now came out and I was in the midst of a break up from a High School & College first love. Speak Now feels like a lifetime ago, as does Red, but those albums saw Taylor changing her sound, honing her songwriting, and building her arena-worthy legacy catalog. Then there was some long, late night road trip drives with nothing but 1989, and discussing the merits of pop vs. country. I fell out of touch for a bit with Reputation & Lover, but again, Taylor was building her legacy. When she finally reemerged with a political stance, and an inclusive, progressive vision, I was back in! Turns out just in time, because 2020 brought the huge surprise of Taylor collaborating with some of my favorite musicians (specifically Aaron Dessner of The National) on not one, but two new Taylor masterpieces. 

       OK, that’s a lot of backstory, let’s talk about some of the high points on Evermore. New personal favorite “’tis the damn season” tells a familiar back-home-for-christmas story just in time for the holidays over Dessner’s brooding guitar and (surprise!) Josh Kaufman on lap steel (Hi Josh!) (see Josh Ritter & Bonny Light Horseman!) “happiness” is a gorgeous piano ballad (finished only a week before Evermore’s release!) with the life-long-lesson of finding the good in a heart-wrenching break-up. The second half of Evermore is stellar & deep with The National getting involved even more. Frontman Matt Berninger (or as a friend called him “Bon Iver’s Deeper Daddy”) lends a certain methodic languidness to “Coney Island” and Bryan Devendorf adds those signature, pounding National drums to the unbelievable catchy-singable “Long Story Short.” Predictably, The White Man, Bon Iver shows up in his traditional spot at the end, with his vocoder machine the Messina popping up in “Closure” and lending trademark pain to closer “Evermore.” As we wind out of these fairytale woods, I am drawn back to Taylor’s words upon Evermore’s even-more-surprising-than-Folklore’s release. “It feels like we were standing on the edge of the folklorian woods and had a choice: to turn & go back or to travel further into the forest of this music... I have no idea what will come next. I have no idea about a lot of things these days and so I’ve clung to the one thing that keeps me connected to you all. That things always has & always will be music.” Thanks for the music Taylor, glad you traveled further into the forest. Evermore. 

       “Don’t treat me like some situation that needs to be handled / I’m fine with my spite & my tears & my beers & my candles...”

THE 1975   /   Notes On A Conditional Form

       The 1975 has always been a mood band for me. I’m tempted to say “vibe” band, but I guess that’s even more scene-y, hipster-y, or whatever. In the same way that I’ve defended Taylor Swift’s songwriting in the early 2010′s & Third Eye Blind’s deep cuts in the late 90′s/early 2000′s, I have proclaimed The 1975 as our greatest pop-rock band. I have said that they are one of the best sounding live bands I’ve ever seen. To this day, I can’t listen to “Me” (Matty Healy’s addiction-facing, heart breaking slow burner that closed their Music For Cars EP way back in September 2013) without tearing up. I think of driving through Idaho in the dark with my little brother, lights blurring out the Subaru windows, him moving to Portland in the Fall of 2015, me cut loose & drifting, trying to find a meaning for my next chapter. Skip forward a few years and the opening chords of “A Change Of Heart” transport me immediately to a bridge in Portland. It’s raining again and the city lights are blurred out the same Subaru windows. I will always associate The 1975 (I’ve taken to calling them simply “The 75!”) with my little brother (they’re his all-time favorite band) and the power of shared music experience. I have so many memories tied with their music, late night drives, dance parties, coffee conversations, and when I make these favorite lists, those are the things I want to mark. 

       I could say a lot about Notes On A Conditional Form. It’s The 75′s fourth full-length album and it’s hella rambling. They threw everything on this one. The sequencing might be off, it goes from an emotional, Greta Thunberg-narrated opener about Climate Change, to the ferocious, post-punk of “People” to a sweeping instrumental track, to a down tempo dance-y favorite “Frail State of Mind” to another instrumental, to another low-key favorite “The Birthday Party” to another dance-y catchy fav “Yeah I Know.” Now we’re seven songs in, no “Sex” or “Chocolate” apparent singles and we’re not even A THIRD of the way through the record! I love the messiness and massive-ness of Notes, I love the Phoebe Bridgers feature (can you believe she was going to OPEN for them at Red Rocks?!), and I love the unedited-ness of it all. There are points in the last third of the album; that drop three minutes into “Having No Head,” those Grimes-y beats & vocals on “What Should I Say,” or the heavily effected vocal Matty sings with his Dad on the penultimate, Burt Bacharach-y “Don’t Worry,” There is so much to dig into here, drums both real & electronic, rock, pop, world music, jazz, dance, and through it all, Matty Healy (tongue firmly planted in cheek) cheekily poking fun at celebrity & fame. For all of the not-so-great memories I have from COVID, all of the quarantine, stay-at-home, shelter-in-place times; I have many fond memories of dancing in the kitchen, drinking fancy cocktails, cooking Hello Fresh, and absolutely blasting Notes On A Conditional Form. In fact, I listed to this one on the google home speaker so much, that it showed up on Lila’s end of the year top 5 albums! This one’s for you Will, first time The 75′s made it on my end of the year favorites list! I can’t listen to them without thinking of you and I love it. Long live music and the connections it builds. See y’all next year!

       “People like people / They want alive people / Young surprise people / Stop fucking with the kids...”

A Quick Chat With Hippo Campus

Hippo Campus © Pooneh Ghana

JANUARY 24, 2019

Hippo Campus is an indie rock quintet from St. Paul who make infectious funky pop look easy. Over the course of the last six years, they’ve produced a handful of eclectic EPs and two very diverse LPs. They’ve toured the world – playing festivals like Bonnaroo and sold out iconic U.S. venues like Union Transfer in Philadelphia, and the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C.

As they set out on their latest world tour in support of 2018’s Bambi, I sat down with core band member Nathan Stoker ahead of their sold out Kansas City show at the Truman on January 25th.

Soundblab: Hey Nathan

Nathan:  Hey!

Soundblab: Looks like you’ve been to Kansas City quite a bit.

Nathan: Yeah we’ve been there a lot, love that city.

Soundblab: You have quite the following here.

Nathan: Every time we’ve been there it’s been a great experience

Soundblab: This will be your largest venue show here, last time you played the Record Bar, but the Truman is over twice the size.

Nathan:  That’s awesome.

Soundblab: Got a few questions here for you. How did you come up with the band name?

Nathan: Age old story is not very interesting. I was in psychology class and came across the term in a textbook and we had started just kind of sketching ideas. Nothing like super set in stone. But I always like to fantasize about naming bands. That’s the story.

Soundblab: What is the hardest thing about working in a group?

Nathan: There are so many things. The first thing that comes to mind is ego. Being okay with your ideas not being the best. Just shut up and listen type of thing. Always having respect for other ideas. How do I stick to my guns without coming off like an asshole? Maintaining friendships

Soundblab: Is Hippo Campus your first band?

Nathan: I was in a band with Whistler (Allen) our drummer in high school. That was the first band I was in and then this one.

Soundblab: What is your favorite song that you’ve written?

Nathan: They’re all kind of like our children so it’s hard to pick and choose. Usually, the songs we release are the ones that fit best with the album. But the ones we don’t release and haven’t found a place for yet are very special. “Alexandra” was a banger, so good, and it has yet to be released because it didn’t make the cut. So something unreleased I guess.

Soundblab: It doesn’t make the cut because?

Nathan:  Band consensus, not the label. Labels are pretty easy going. Some songs just don’t mesh together as well as they could in terms of an album. No cohesion.

Soundblab: What was the meaning or inspiration for the song “South?”

Nathan: We were just writing over the summer, just set up with our parents. It’s about being an angsty teenager. And feeling like choices are being made for you and you can’t do anything about it.

Soundblab: Any bizarre stories from the road? There was a rumor that Rivers Cuomo required his dressing room to be decorated to look like a womb. Any brown M&M situations?

Nathan: Whoa. Um… there’s a venue in Portland that separates the minors and adults in different sections – like completely gated off from each other, which was kind of strange.

Soundblab: In lieu of stamps on hands or wristbands?

Nathan: Yeah just separated by like a barricade. We’re pretty low maintenance though, so we don’t make any crazy demands.

Soundblab: Anything current music wise you’re really into?

Nathan: I just got into Tom Waits, I’d never really listened to him before. Rex Allen, this old country star. Cautious Clay is pretty cool. Frog.

Soundblab: Frog?

Nathan: Yeah they are like a two-piece from New York. I just got into the new Amen Dunes record too.

Soundblab: Freedom. Probably his best one

Nathan: He’s pretty rad. And then I’m digging a lot of ambient stuff. Just a little taste for ya.

Soundblab: Variety of listens going on. What’s influencing your sound?

Nathan: That’s a good question.

Soundblab: Overall. When you woke up and decided to be in a band…

Nathan: We were listening to a lot of British indie bands like Bombay Bicycle Club. Not a lot of OG musicians, but stuff that’s been around for a while. Our individual influences are pretty scattered. Like I grew up around a lot of church music so there was always a lot of driving, physical force behind wanting to be in a band that was not religion based. Playing guitar on stage is a draw for me and continues to be a thing that I love. In terms of sound, big bands like Low did have an influence.

Soundblab: Low’s Double Negative was Soundblab’s Album of the Year…

Nathan: Yeah the new one is sick.

Soundblab: You worked with BJ Burton, who also worked on that album, along with others by Bon Iver and James Blake. What was that like?

Nathan: Um it was weird. BJ has been a really interesting influence on the way we approach music in the first place. The way we look at it now, after working in the studio with others it’s just weird but… overall it’s been great. A lot of interesting growing up that had been done between us in the band and BJ. He really challenged us, pushed boundaries. It’s an ongoing thing too, trying to figure out where we go after the experience with BJ - working outside of that in kind of a foreign land. Very talented dude.

Soundblab: What’s it like going from smaller venues to larger venues in less than two years?

Nathan: Every time we’re in a new city or town I’m amazed. There are elements of the smaller venues that are awesome, the intimacy. But the larger venues, it’s kind of nice to be able to take a shower and have a dressing room. Both have their perks. But no matter where we are we have the mindset that you can play in front of five fans and be awesome, or play in front of five thousand and suck.

(source: Soundblab)

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United States v. Democracy: It’s Dead, Jim.

If you spend any time on social media, you probably know someone or are the someone that uselessly posts sound-the-alarm quips and links decrying the damage the current administration is doing to the very fabric of our country.  Allow me to jump in with a longer, more boring, version of that.

First, pop quiz... which of the following two photographs shows people acting more disrespectfully toward the troops.

If you picked the second, then maybe you didn’t look at the pictures close enough so go ahead and take a moment to look again.

All right, now that the people who chose B had some time to reconsider, hopefully we are all on the same page.  If you stuck with your answer of B, then I think we need to have a long talk about what our country actually stands for, what the players are actually kneeling about, and why you’re completely wrong.

I never consider myself burning with patriotism, but current events make me realize that I actually spend a lot of time thinking about what makes the United States a great country...

Dollar drafts.

Just kidding.

Still, it’s nice to know the damage a ten spot can still do in the right kind of bar.

My point, however, is this - the kneeling football players used civil disobedience of a sorts to draw attention to an issue they felt would make the United States a better nation by addressing it.  Maybe you don’t agree, although treating minorities more justly and chipping away at the structural racism present in the United States feels like a tough thing to disagree with.  The point is that the players’ motivation is to help make the United States the best country it can be and, honestly, I can’t think of a better way to honor the sacrifices of our troops.

For the Rather Be Russian twins, I know that the t-shirts are probably a joke to some degree - or I feel like I need to give them the benefit of the doubt or else it might be the stupidest t-shirt I’ve ever seen.  It used to be Better Dead Than Red, then Better Red Than Democrat, so by the transitive property, is it better to be dead than a democrat for these two gentlemen?  Would they really be willing to die for the party’s upper crust tax breaks and Trump rawdogging the emoluments clause?  

Let’s put aside the transitive property bit and just stick to Rather Be Russian Than Democrat instead.  To me, this feels so much more disrespectful to the troops in a sense, freedom of speech aside, even as a lame joke.  To even joke that you would rather group up with those knowingly attacking our country intending to disrupt the fundamental core of our democracy than with a fellow citizen that you disagree with speaks volumes - even more volumes than that run-on sentence.  Americans you disagree with are not the enemy, something I feel we figured out in 1865.  

Maybe there’s an exception, however, and that would be elected officials putting their party before country or, in the case of our current president, himself before country.  To return to the transitive property for a moment... our country’s heart is its democracy.  Trump, Mitch McConnell, and Paul Ryan are either actively or passively fostering attacks on that democracy, therefore they are attacking our country in some form.  Trump attacks our rule of law because Mueller’s investigation is successfully uncovering corruption and that net may snare Trump or his innermost circle.  Paul Ryan must be a man of faith because he believes Donald “I have the absolute right to pardon myself” Trump wouldn’t fire Mueller over the investigation.  McConnell echos the cries for Mueller to wrap up his investigation, as if it’s possible to have too much of a process that reinforces the appropriate rule of law while at the same time looking into an attack on our country.  Here’s what Mitch McConnell sounds like when a democratic president gets investigated:

“Our nation is indeed at a crossroads. Will we pursue the search for truth or will we dodge, weave and evade the truth? I am of course referring to the investigation into serious allegations of illegal conduct by the president of the United States — that the president has engaged in a persistent pattern and practice of obstruction of justice. The allegations are grave, the investigation is legitimate and ascertaining the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the unqualified, unevasive truth is absolutely critical.”

A far cry from his current position of wrap it up (even though the Mueller investigation has so far lasted a little more than one-tenth as long as the Whitewater investigation.  That quoted statement applies to Mueller’s investigation more so than it ever did about Bill Clinton’s oval office BJ because it’s worth knowing if and how a foreign power influenced our vote.  

But the title of this post is United States v. Democracy.  Democrats are guilty, non-elected officials are guilty, we’re all guilty on some level.  Dark money in politics, elections that aren’t publicly funded, gerrymandering, voter suppression, fake news, truth isn’t truth, science skepticism, choosing to side with a foreign enemy over a fellow countryman you disagree with... my problems with Trump, Ryan, and McConnell have nothing to do with their politics no matter how much I disagree with them.  That’s part of the system I’m happy to buy into.  The part I’m not happy to buy into are those actions that undermine our country’s ability to function.  

Another Bones McCoy quote says “I've found that evil usually triumphs...unless good is very, very careful.”  It’s something I have personally felt more and more over the last twenty years, where the evil in this case refers more to our country taking its democracy for granted.  I don’t expect much from our current crop of elected officials but I’m hoping Mueller’s investigation is allowed to continue to force us to admit the level of rot that exists in our processes.  More often, though, I feel that we’re getting to the point where we’re no longer willing to speak up on behalf of our democracy, just our chosen side.

Then certain things happen to rekindle my hope.  Things such as this story:

Elections board takes less than a minute to reject proposal to close 7 of 9 polling places in majority-black county

Maybe the tide will finally turn and we will once again be a nation that can make our internal disagreements a source of strength instead of a contagion infecting our system which, I believe, deserves better.

“Kinda bent, but we ain’t breakin’… in the long run”

Maverick Saturday stretched out before us like a challenge - thirteen hours is a long time on your feet for a couple of oldsters, but we’d give it our best shot…

We didn’t catch all of Dan Walsh’s opening Barn set, but his closing number, a lyrical, backwoods folk-flavoured instrumental that peaked in an increasingly frenetic celtic reel to the whoops and stomps of the crowd, was enough to impress us with its fleet-fingered dexterity.

Kelly Bayfield made her second barn appearance with another stylish set drawn from the new album: Kelly taking to the piano to give us a new short number Sing which was twinned (“well, they’re a similar flavour, and in the same key!”) with her last single Hitchhiker, both oozing classy 70s chanteuse vibes and the latter closing in some great Telecaster work from Andy Trill in a majestic closing solo.

There’s not much that’d drag us away from a Kelly performance early, but having spotted his programme picture (“Long hair, Les Paul? That’ll do!”) we pottered down to the open air Green Stage for David Banks and his band. He did exactly what we thought it said on the tin: lots of Springsteen/Petty influenced muscular Americana with a dash of Molly Hatchett topped with excellent southern-fried guitar and classic ‘big endings’… marvellous.

He was followed by Simon Stanley Ward (another ‘old fave’) who brought his Jonathan Richmanish irreverence and wit to Old Time Country in Excuse Me While I Feel Sorry For Myself; the Graceland-African-style I’m A Worrier (”…that’s worrier, not warrior”) a swinging rock’n’roller Bigfoot, Baby (Eddie Cochran meets cryptobiology) and Rocket In The Desert (the salad leaf not the projectile) with its Lawrence Of Arabia theme tease. While lampooning his own assumed-Nashville twang in American Voice the accompaniment was as echt as you could want, and the deadpan humour of Beluga Whale was sung to a properly stirring Journeyesque anthem.

As it wasn’t raining The Green seemed the place to stay, where Forty Elephant Gang came next. Reviewing their album we were a little sniffy about their ‘crowd-pleasing festival songs’ but aside from the field holler-meets-O Brother Where Art Thou-style Songs Of Praise, this set was mostly the ones we’d liked: the relaxed Tex-Mex of Strange Things Happening with three-part harmonies and intertwining mando’n’guitar lines; the melancholic waltz of Young Man’s Game and the Squeeze-y domestic wit of Drunken Promise Song. A final ‘crowd-pleaser’ came in the chugging bluesy Hands Out Your Pockets, an instruction the assembled masses eagerly followed to add the required clap-along.

Sam Chase Trio made another appearance at The Green, wooing the larger crowd with both edgy humour (including praising UK portaloos in comparison to US versions, and introducing Everyone Is Crazy But Me as “a children’s song... now, what they mean is that it’s simple, since kids are generally at the dumber end of the spectrum”), and songs as varied as the fiery protest of What Is All The Rage and the haunting, wistful Lost Girl, (from the “Faustian Spaghetti Western Of Epic Proportions Known As The Last Rites Of Dallas Pistol”) sung by cellist Devon.

Now Plunger do like a bit of bluegrass, whether it’s grainy b/w Flatt & Scruggs clips from the 50s, through Sam Bush and New Grass to Béla Fleck and Greensky Bluegrass so The Folly Brothers should have been our kind of thing… however what we heard of them was more My Old Man’s A Dustman than anything Appalachian so we wandered off…

Back at The Barn Dean Owens and the Southerners drew a large and attentive crowd, but the popular Scot also left us a bit underwhelmed. Mellow, melodious troubadoury country that wouldn’t have been out of place on a mid-afternoon 70s Radio 2 show, the kind of thing that takes a deep listen in your bedroom to appreciate the stories told: very easy on the ear for sure but without any particular thing to grab us at a festival.

After an abortive attempt to catch Ella Spencer and her accompanist at The Moonshine (an extremely long soundcheck with problems with feedback from pretty much everything they touched meant we gave up) we caught a snatch of Los Pistoleros as we rounded The Green: probably the most C.O.U.N.T.R.Y. thing of the weekend, complete with draggy fiddle, pedal steel and old time vocal harmonies… if I’d not left my cowboy boots at home I’d have been out line-dancing with the best of them.

Plunger had only just seen Alyssa Bonagura (with Tim De Graaw’s band) less than a week since. Here at The Barn she was nominally solo but Tim joined her to add sweet harmonies and mellow guitar to Alyssa’s polished Cali-country: her strong yet ethereal vocal equally at home in slow emotional confessionals or giggly upbeat Big Yellow Taxi-style big strummers.

Listed only as ‘Dogs Play Dead’ it was only a lucky guess that took us down to The Green for what turned out to be Friday’s headliners Black Eyed Dogs playing a set of Grateful Dead classics. Mainly those with a countryish twist to them already, like Casey Jones, I Know You Rider and Friend Of The Devil; and bringing that flavour with fiddle and pedal steel to others like Truckin’, China Cat Sunflower, Playing In The Band and the epic closing Franklin’s Tower. All done with the right degree of loose, shambling rhythms and discursive noodling on guitar (and fiddle!) Fabulous stuff for grooving on the grass under what by now were glorious sunshine-filled blue skies.

Brooks Williams’ jangly sonorous acoustic and warm, smooth higher register vox was ideal early evening fare at the barn, in covers like Dave Alvin’s King Of California, traditional numbers like Deep River Blues and originals like the Gordon Lightfootish melancholy of Frank Delandry, and the damp-eyed nostalgia of Palomino Gold, aided toward the end of his set by some more excellent banjo from Dan Walsh.

The USP of Eddy Smith & the 507 is Eddy’s gravelly soulful voice, ideal for their bluesy-edged material, like the harp-led strut of It Don’t Feel Much Like Living and the new single Ticket Out Of Here, a bustling two-step with impressive three-part harmony vocals. They definitely have moved up a level since we last saw them a couple of years back.

Somehow we managed to miss Sarah Petite with her band completely on Friday, and almost all of her stripped-back Moonshine set on Saturday. Which was definitely our loss gauging by the brief snatch of crackling husky vocal over restrained bass and reverb laden guitar that we heard while hunting for a still-open toilet (a water supply problem having rendered all loos unusable for a considerable portion of the late evening... pretty much the only fly in the ointment all weekend!)

As the sun set the two-month date differential was beginning to tell: clear night skies in September aren’t quite the same as July and the growing chill was testing our stamina a bit. We headed for The Peacock and the tribute show to John Prine, hosted by Rich Hall. Pretty much every act who was on site came to do a turn in honour of the recently-deceased songwriting legend, with their own favourite from his oeuvre. Kelly Bayfield band gave us Hello In There, Tim De Graaw with Alyssa did That’s The Way The World Goes Round, Alyssa gave us the obligatory Angel From Montgomery, and Simon Stanley Ward (plus Kelly) gave a fantastic rollicking Lake Marie. Entirely in character, Sam Chase Trio broke the mould and gave us their own tribute song John Prine.

Rich Hall had to skip out on MC duties to attend his own set at The Barn: sacrilege to say, but the appeal of stand up (even to music, even from such a big name) palled a little. It was getting bitterly cold (you could see your breath hanging in the air) and given that what we could hear of his set was the same as we’d heard last time he was here we spent much the time attempting to warm up with piping hot beverages. However it was by far the rammedest set of the weekend, with the tightly-packed crowd spilling out of The Barn for some distance.

Jon Langford was unsurprisingly somewhat hindered by the draw of Rich Hall (which left The Peacock a bit underpopulated!) His spiky, punky approach wasn’t entirely our bowl of chilli, although the rendition of Eddie Waring (originally by Help Yourself with Deke Leonard and BJ Cole, who was sitting in with Jon tonight) was very good.

The programme description of headliner Jerry Joseph did its best to weaken our staying power too: with our deep suspicion of any write-ups that include the ‘p-word’, and somewhat incredulous of the mention of ‘jam bands’, Jerry looked like he wouldn’t be our kind of thing at all. However he didn’t live down to expectations (wholly). A very animated stage-prowling audience-provoking figure in shorts and no shoes, there was no shortage of energy even if it was largely unchannelled and could get a little wearing… (maybe it was that, maybe it was the chill, but The Barn steadily thinned out during his set, ending less than half full). War At The End Of The World was the pick of the bunch, although like most of his material it would probably have sounded better with a band (like, erm, Stockholm Syndrome, which he co-founded; or, erm, Widespread Panic who he has written for… so much for our ‘jamband incredulity’!)

While it might have ended as a bit of a test of endurance, there were more than enough high points to make Saturday another enjoyable Maverick experience.

“Did we do it for love? Did we do it for money? More like stubborn dumb persistence and hot chocolate, honey…”

For the risk brah: both 4s both 7s and both 10s uwu

4. do you have an nsfw blog? - nope!

4. if you have pets, what are their names? - Tommy, BJ, Tsukki, and Presley! all dogs :)

7. tell an embarassing memory or story - ah, well one time in 8th grade we had to present a Thing we made for our summer reading project and when i got in front of the class my anxiety was out of the roof so i just stood there frozen and hiding behind my project till my teacher came nd led me back to my seat hdkjhfkefhekw

7. favorite song you can’t stop listening to?- orpheus under the influence by the buttertones rn!!!

10. if you draw or write show us some of your old work - i…..dont have anything on my computer rn! sorry guys i know you want to see how TRASH i was at writing before but dwhduejkw.f

10. what’s something that made you laugh recently? “hold my hand” “noooo i don’t want to hold it. penis has been there!”

thanks for the ask!!

For the prompt 'Smile'

A/N: This is part wish fulfillment, part my reaction to the frankly amazing recent chapters by Nakamura-Sensei. This is my own kind of headcanon that’s developed about these two characters and is rather heavily dependent on all the character development that has occurred since the Dark Moon Wrap Party until the most recent chapter. This is for the Skip Beat celebration of KyokoxRen week on tumblr. For the prompt ‘Smile’

Also, I use the Japanese honorifics as I’m most used to hearing that from learning conversational Japanese. Additionally, Nakamura-sensei utilizes the inner thoughts of her characters to great effect, so I’ve done that as well. It's denoted with ‘_’. 

This clocks in at around 9k so yeah.... Enjoy! 

Five Times Tsuruga Ren Slipped & Then Covered with a Smile

1. Of Momose-san & an Interview

The Dark Moon Wrap Party was well underway and Momose-san was currently enjoying answering the in-depth questions of her interviewer. She was so delighted by how insightful her reporter was that she perhaps let slip something she otherwise wouldn’t have. 

“Momose-san, I’m quite curious, with such a wonderfully talented cast and crew, what surprised you the most while being a part of those dynamics behind the scenes of this production?”

Momose-san perhaps could have mentioned the talented musicians they consulted with, as acknowledging more rarely-spoken of aspects of producing television was always appreciated, but what really had stuck with her most throughout shooting the show was the dichotomy of Mogami-san. So struck by how the younger actress acted during daily life, she instead replied:

“This might be silly to say, but Mogami-san, oh, who you all would know as Kyoko-san, when not in character, is astonishingly gentle and kind. And so funny! Her and Tsuruga-san were sometimes so silly together they appeared like a manzai duo! I am so glad Tsuruga-san vouched for her in the beginning, as the time we spent together not in front of the cameras, we had quite a bit of fun! And she’s just such a professional in general as well.”

Her interviewer, a little startled by her enthusiasm, nevertheless filed away that fascinating nugget of information. 

“Okay, next question, what was the scene most memorable to you?” …

As Yashiro-san would snark later, Ren could have very easily avoided this misstep. However, in his opinion, he believed he covered with remarkable aplomb and so all’s well that ends well. Ren, unexpectedly and unfortunately, relearned a particular lesson today that he really should have known better than to have had to relearn. That is, he draws attention he doesn’t even know he does at the most inopportune times. ‘Boss would get a kick out of this’, he mused to himself, exasperated and still irritated on some levels. 

To provide some context, a certain crew member, underling to a certain interviewer, had been struggling to find his boss’ next two interviewees after one Iizuka-san’s interview was finished. As his search met the ten minute mark, he finally spotted an odd event occurring next to an odd decoration. ‘Egyptian?? Why Egyptian?’ Then, ‘Tsuruga-san! Why are you embarrassing that nice looking lady?!’

He politely coughed to gain the couple’s attention, “Tsuruga-san, please follow me, we’re ready for you.”

The tall actor straightened up to gesture towards the interviewing space, “After you Mogami-san.” 

The crew member now recognized the glamorous young woman as Kyoko-san, who then promptly ducked her head and scurried towards the seating area. The crew member shook his head to divest himself of his surprise at how chameleon-like the young actress was. Then he hurried on ahead to whisper to his boss about what he just saw. She was not even gonna believe it but he totally saw it with his own two eyes; Tsuruga-san liked to tease. 

Ren, throughout the beginning of the interview, couldn’t help but kick himself for his behavior. ‘You’re getting sloppy Kuon. Tsuruga Ren is always a gentleman. What are you even doing? Mogami-san became so embarrassed that that crew member glared at me even as he felt embarrassed for her too! Get it together!’

“I know I’m a curious one, and I’m sure the fans are too, however did you think up your style for this evening? So glamorous!”

Ren suppressed a twitch at the interviewer’s question while Kyoko blushed brightly.

“Ahha, actually, it’s a bit of a funny story. Since I’m younger than everyone, and this was my first real event like this, I was a tad self-conscious about it. But actually Kijima-san was so nice, when I mentioned it, he introduced me to some stylists and they just kind of went wild. I was a bit surprised but he helped me out a lot with it.”

Ren again attempted to rein in his temper as the chatter continued in this vein for the next couple minutes. Really, his more physically-inclined urges to rearrange Kijima-san’s face and/or to outright speak ill of him was slightly hypocritical after all that had just happened. Nevertheless, Ren had to take a calming breath and bite his tongue. 

“You’re such an interesting topic of conversation tonight Mogami-san! First Momose-san, and now Kijima-san, and, from what I hear, even Tsuruga-san, they all really seem have great relationships with you in particular out of this cast. Tsuruga-san, I’m dying to know, has Mogami-san always captivated you, or have you two developed such a wonderful relationship for a different reason?”

For a half second, Ren stopped breathing and his eyes widened in shock. The miniscule reactions were his only tell, fortunately, and he smoothly transitioned into his trademark media smile. 

“Apologies, but I’m not quite sure I understand the question?” Ren’s voice came out as smoothly as ever, and he breathed a sigh of relief. God, where did this even come from??!

If the interviewer’s smile became more shark-like, Ren was positive he was imagining it. “Well Momose-san compared your behind-the-scenes antics to that of a manzai duo, I confess I am intrigued. You’ve never really been one for comedy such as that, as far as we the public know, so is it Kyoko-san’s influence, or are you two just that comfortable with each other?”

Ren attempted to control his urge to clench his fists in frustration but replied, “Ah, that’s a bit of humorous take from Momose-san, I’m sure. We’re just from the same company is all, so we know each other from meeting at the office on occasion.”

Kyoko was nodding along a bit too frantically, “Ah, yes! Tsuruga-san and I have just come across each other on occasion at the office. Other than working on Dark Moon together, we don’t have too much else in common.”

“Hmm, how surprising, and Momose-san mentioned that you had to vouch for Mogami-san here at the beginning of production, Tsuruga-san. Can you explain that a little more? What gave you that confidence?”

Ren suppressed his want to reach out to settle Kyoko’s slightly bouncing knee. This interviewer had definitely gotten off track some, perhaps he could manage to wrangle it back on course to soothe Kyoko’s nerves a little.

“It’s quite simple really. There were concerns Kyoko-san didn’t have enough experience for such a vital role. However, the director was positive she was right for the job, and I know our company president had vouched for this production, and what little I had known at the time of Kyoko-san’s professionalism were all enough for me to have that confidence.” He risked sending Kyoko a reassuring smile which did seem to settle the bouncing knee.

Kyoko smiled back up in return before turning her gaze back to the interviewer, “Really, it was only with all of my costars’ faith and help that I managed to create a Mio I was proud of.”

Promptly diverted by this part of the topic, the interviewer returned to the normal questioning about the production process. Ren let out a sigh of relief, Thank God. You need to cool it Kuon. Ren, with his temper now controlled, began to rebuild his character defenses but still felt the looming threat of Kuon’s fury.

After the interview Yashiro shot Ren an unimpressed look that got his hackles up. “What Yashiro-san?”

Yashiro sighed and shook his head, “Honestly Ren, all of this could very easily have been avoided. I know you know that. I’ve told you. The president’s told you. Be careful. This role you currently have is making you slip up. The rest of the people here might not have noticed how angry you were throughout that entire interview, but Kyoko-chan and I have noticed your temper all evening. I’m sure the president, were he here, would have as well.”

Ren’s jaw muscle jumped as he clenched his teeth before replying, “I can handle it. And besides, that interviewer just got some fluff about cast dynamics. It’ll be a hit. While I understand your concerns, my issues don’t ever interfere with my work. I don’t let them.”

(Ren will come to regret those words later.)

2. Guam; Tsuruga-san on the Day of Kyoko’s Departure

Ren was very quietly basking in how he and Kyoko were able to talk somewhat normally. She might have been scolding him about eating but after all that had occurred here in Guam, he could only feel relief that she was talking to him. That she was talking to him at all after the way he’d treated her throughout the past weeks was a miracle in his opinion. But, he had a niggling guilty feeling he didn’t think he could keep his silence about.

“Mogami-san,” Ren interrupted her mid-rant hesitantly, “I appreciate that you want to make sure I’m eating while I finish up here. But-”

He quieted for long enough that Kyoko cocked her head to the side, “Tsuruga-san?”

He raised his head to shoot her a faint smile, “I just really wanted to apologize.”

“Tsuruga-san? I’m not sure what you mean?”

Ren took a deep breath, “My behavior as Cain and BJ has been the cause of an inordinate amount of issues for you.”

Growing increasingly alarmed at this unexpected turn of events, Kyoko started to say, “Tsuruga-san, please don’t-!”

“Please let me finish. I have caused you a great deal of issues in the past weeks. I recognize that I have had difficulty with this task. I’ve been overly possessive, overly aggressive, and have broken character several times.” He paused for a second trying to control his embarrassment but then continued.

“I am but a man. I make mistakes. That you have had the patience and fortitude to put up with it is amazing and you have my everlasting gratitude.” To better accent this, Ren gave her a partial bow in the traditional style she preferred. Straightening back up, he caught sight of her very red face and the fingers she twisted nervously in her lap. ‘My God, but she’s so adorable she leaves me breathless’. 

“Please look at me Mogami-san.” She shyly started looking up but had to duck her eyes again as she saw his dazzling smile. 

“Please never forget how amazing you are Mogami-san. Of your own willpower and grace, you have made it through this very trying task of ours. I am not exaggerating when I acknowledge how wonderful you were at that.” 

“Tsuruga-san, please, I do appreciate this, really, but please stop talking.” Kyoko had to bury her face in her hands to calm down for a minute or two. Then, once she felt she could, she turned her gaze back to him. 

“I have only been able to do this because of your support. As a fellow actor, you constantly push me to be better. I had to do my best. I had to. Do you get it?”

Ren, now relieved he was able to apologize well enough, shot her another smile. “That is indeed quite the praise coming from you. Thank you again.”

(Once his door is shut after seeing her off a little while later, Ren will take a deep breath, straighten his backbone and swear to not disappoint her.)

3. Lory & the Box’R Incident

Ren let out a frustrated sigh in his Cain getup as he followed Ten-san into Lory’s office, “I thought we’d decided to not have me do promo work for Tragic Marker? For the mystery?” 

Lory, finishing up a phone call, just waved them further into the office, “Don’t worry about it Director-san, I’ll arrange transportation for her. Thanks for the notice, you can be at ease now.”

He finished up his goodbyes and then turned to Ren, “I know, I know, but things change. Don’t worry, it’s still all hush hush. The movie’s studio marketing team just wanted some stills just in case it became necessary. However I do need to come with you to hammer out details, so please follow me out.” Miss Woods waved them off as Lory and Ren strode out to a waiting car, attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible.

“The studio should be set up by the time we get there, no worries. I know you and Yashiro-san are on a tight schedule. I just happen to need to kill two birds with one stone.” Lory remarked cheerfully while on the way to the studio. Ren sighed and shook his head but kept his thoughts to himself as they reached their destination. 

They walked through the building, heading towards Tragic Marker’s marketing and publicity office, but Lory became distracted by a hallway marked off and labeled as “Box'R Shooting”. Ren shot Lory a suspicious glance but Lory ignored him and ducked into the hallway.

“Director Anna, what seems to be the hold up here?” The Box’R director whipped around in surprise as he saw Lory Takarada approach him on his set. Motioning for his Assistant Director to take over, the director met him halfway. 

“Takarada-sama! I’m so sorry to interrupt your day!” 

Lory put a finger to his mouth to motion for a quieter tone of voice. “I’m going for secrecy and the element of surprise today. I confess, once you had called me about about her needing a ride tonight, I’d been curious to see what my talent had been doing. She’s a bit of a pet project for me. This was a good excuse for me to check it out.”

As Lory settled into a chair next to him, the director leaned back in his own and happened to catch sight of an intimidating figure cloaked in ragged black clothing. He paused for a moment, and then decided not to ask. Company presidents such as these tended to be…eccentric to say the least. 

He turned his attention back to LME’s president. “Well, Kyoko-chan is doing decently at the moment. But in this scene I’m trying to capture a certain dynamic. Natsu’s supposed to be more possessive of Rumi-chan’s character here as Rumi-chan is trying to tell a boy she likes him, but maybe Kyoko-chan is unused to feeling possessive of toys because she’s not quite capturing that air.” The director paused a moment to eye the cloaked figure again as he could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle come from that direction. 

Lory spoke up, “Let me see if I follow, the boy there is who is being confessed to, and Natsu is supposed to come across the scene and then perhaps interrupt because she doesn’t want Rumi-chan’s character to pay attention to someone else? She’s used to always being able to play with her whenever she likes? That kind of thing?”

“Something like that. We’re working on different takes as most of of the blocking is improvised by Kyoko-chan so we get more natural reactions to her bullying by everyone else around her. It’s somewhat experimental on my end, for sure. But Natsu is the spark everyone else needs to react against. So, unfortunately for this scene in particular, until I get what I’m looking for in her, we’re not gonna get the right reaction from everyone else.”

Ren, situated behind Lory and leaning against the wall of the studio, was people watching. He wondered if anybody had some cigarettes and maybe a lighter. He could really use a smoke break. Yashiro-san has been so thoughtful to rearrange his schedule as this had come up and he had such a limited window of time before he had to return to the shooting in Guam. But now they were probably going to be late to his final dinner meeting because the president had yet again gotten distracted and dragged him along in his wake.

He sighed. At least he got to watch Kyoko work. He so very rarely got the chance to watch her in her element without a running commentary by Yashiro-san. It was quite a wonderful thing to experience. His gaze zeroed in on the young man and woman near Kyoko. ‘Her costars I imagine. But what’s that boy doing?’

He straightened up a little and looked closer. He might have been imagining it, but the boy kept touching Kyoko’s arm to get her attention. He frowned. But then it happened again. His frown deepened as Kyoko made more of an effort to step back out of the boy’s space and physically focus her attention more on what the crew was saying. The movement seemed almost unconsciously done. As if she’d had to do it before.

Ren was momentarily distracted by a tech crew member stepping off the set and patting his left jacket pocket. ‘Ah, bingo, some smokes’. He waited for the crew member to get a little closer to where he was at before he stepped towards him. ‘Discreet and quiet, yes I am paying attention to your instructions Boss, but also, I could use a smoke break’. 

“Hey, do you mind if I bum a light and cigarette off ya?” Ren made sure to speak in Cain’s deeper and huskier voice but with an effort to be polite and quiet. The crew member was startled to be approached by such a figure but soon relaxed and handed them over. Ren nodded in thanks and turned back to eye the contained chaos that was the set, making sure to keep track of where Kyoko was. 

Lory watched idly as crew and the cast members rearranged things for another run through, turning a few thoughts over in his head. Possessiveness huh…he mused and then smiled. “Director Anna, I may have an idea for you. Have you cleared people’s schedules this evening? Would I be imposing upon your schedule too much if you indulge me in this?”

“I would really appreciate it, actually. This may be out of my reach if I’m just not communicating well,” the director confessed. 

Lory turned a bit in his chair and gestured at Ren to come forward. Ren sighed mournfully but he put away the cigarette and lighter in his inner jacket pocket. 

“Boss?” 

Director Anna warily eyed the taller man and the President as he heard the English being spoken. 

“Cain, go greet your sister. She must be missing you.”

Ren froze and quietly began to panic. ‘Shit, what on earth is he thinking? Mogami-san was only comfortable because we were the Heels around people we didn’t know. How is she going to explain this?’

“Boss, I’m not sure… - “

“Please, indulge me.”

Ren sighed but straightened up and headed towards the set. ‘Maybe I should have been paying attention…’

He focused more on bringing Cain out and tuned Lory out, who was currently asking the director for the assistant director to make sure the cameras didn’t start rolling.

He faintly heard a, “It’s just a little secret project of mine after all. Can’t have anything leaked yet.” from Lory’s direction but by then he was already mostly Cain wanting to see his sister. 

Cain took a step closer to the set, trying to not grab too much attention as he tried to sneak a little closer to his sister. He was somewhat successful and got only a few odd looks before he made it close enough.

“Setsu.” His voice came out as a command. 

Kyoko stilled, heart in her throat as Natsu flew away from her by virtue of one simple word. In the next heartbeat she was Setsu. Setsu, who hadn’t seen her brother in what seemed like so long and desperately missed that voice. She started looking around, thoroughly distracting the people around her. 

Rumi-chan, having caught sight of Kyoko’s face changing, was rather surprised. This caught the attention of her co-star Aoki-kun. They both turned to follow where Kyoko was going. 

“Big brother?” Setsu’s brother suddenly seemed to appear in her line of vision. She quickly stepped off the set and headed towards him.

“Big brother! Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

Cain shrugged, opening up his arms to get a hug, “I was lonely without you. Didn’t you miss me too?” His face started sliding into puppy-dog eyes the longer Setsu stood still. 

Kyoko wasn’t too terribly surprised as Cain often acted like this but at the same time she was attempting to corral Setsu’s feelings as they were in public. Ultimately, the puppy dog eyes won out. Kyoko blushed but stepped into his waiting arms. ‘So warm…’she sighed gratefully.

“Of course I missed you. Anytime I’m not with you is the worst time of my life.” Setsu murmured.

Cain patted her head and smiled gently, “Also, I’m missing my lighter. Did you take it with you?”

She stepped back, hands on her hips, “Why on earth wouldn’t you just buy another one?”

The puppy dog look was back, “But you picked that one out.”

Setsu stomped her foot in exasperation, “Fine, fine. But if I check that pocket, and it’s there, you’re never living this down.”

Rumi-chan, Aoki-kun and the onlookers were utterly flabbergasted at the behavior, the language, and the now apparent lack of respect for personal space of these two individuals.

“Um, Rumi-chan, who is that? Why are they speaking English?!” Aoki-kun whispered to Rumi.

“Rumi-chan has no idea…” And then she blushed as Kyoko started opening the other man’s jacket and appeared to be searching the pocket for something. ‘So forward! Why isn’t she intimidated by him? So amazing!’

“This is so rude! We’re in the middle of a job!” Aoki-kun was no longer whispering. A couple of crew members overheard but motioned to where the director was sitting and watching.

“I don’t think the director cares actually…” Aoki huffed at the crew member’s sidebar to him.

“Cain! Honestly, you’re never living this down! You have it right here!” Setsu shook her head at her brother as she produced the lighter and cigarette.

Cain just shrugged and smiled, “Wanna join me for a smoke?”

Setsu raised an eyebrow, “You never let me smoke with you, even though I’ve been doing it for ages. You don’t want your precious sister near that nasty stuff is what I believe you’ve said.”

Cain’s eyes flicked to something behind her as he moved in closer, “But I miss you. Don’t you want to spend time with me?” He placed a proprietary hand on her hip as he stepped nearer to her. Kyoko felt a thrill go up her spine as she felt his body heat.

“Well…, I haven’t had a break yet, so I don’t see why not.” She cast her gaze downward shyly as she tucked a couple fingers into his coat’s outer pocket.

At this point in time, Aoki had had about enough, “Hey! We’re kind of busy here! Why don’t you go wait til we’re done?”

The snarl that came across Cain’s face as he tucked Setsu closer to him frightened Aoki-kun out of his wits enough to stop speaking. Kyoko whipped her head around and shot him her murderous Setsu glare.

In Japanese, she snapped back angrily, “Don’t you dare be so rude to my nii-san! You’re not even worthy to breathe the same air as he, you trumped up toad!” Kyoko had to bite back other angry words but really, Aoki-kun’s lack of respect for personal space had irritated her one too many times today and she relished in indulging Setsu’s anger.

Aoki’s face turned bright red but he stormed away. Rumi-chan looked between his retreating back to the two scarier individuals in front of her. She timidly tried to speak up, “Um, Kyoko-san. I’m not sure what’s going on, but would you like to uh, introduce your nii-san to the rest of us?” 

In her ear she heard Cain mutter, “Ugh, just like the rodent.”

Setsu’s eyes blazed in remembered anger. Kyoko tried to control it but it came out anyway. She sneered back in response, “Certainly not! This is my nii-san! He only cares about me and I only care about him!”

She turned on her heel, grabbed Cain’s hand and tossed over her shoulder, “I’m taking a break!” The delighted smile Cain wore on his face as she did this very much disturbed the crowd of onlookers, who were making no secret of the fact that they were fascinated by these turn of events. Kyoko went to continue stomping out but then heard a deep voice ring out:

“Cut!!”   

Cain promptly stopped their exit, dragging Setsu to a stop as well. Kyoko felt her blood slowly turn to ice in her veins as she recognized that voice. She was immediately horrified at her behavior. She swung around to face the president’s direction and bowed deeply.

“I am so sorry president! Director Anna! I meant no disrespect!”

She was astonished to hear a deep laugh, “No worries at all Kyoko-chan. Director Anna was just indulging in an idea of mine!” He faced the director, “Do you see?”

Director Anna was simply stunned into nodding dumbly. Lory clapped his hands enthusiastically, “Very well done, all around!” 

Ren shot Kyoko a small but reassuring smile. Kyoko sagged in relief. ‘Just another crazy bit of hijinx by the president. Thank the heavens’. She caught Ren’s eye again and tilted her head in question. In return, he held a finger to his lips and mouthed to her, “Talk later?” 

She smiled brightly and nodded her assurance. She hadn’t even thought she’d be able to see him so soon. Maybe talk to him on the phone, but not actually see him until he returned from Guam for good. Oh she could hardly contain her excitement.

Lory clapped a hand onto the director’s shoulder as he stood up, ‘Well Director-san, I believe I’m needed elsewhere, I hope this was helpful.”

The director continued to nod in a bit of a dazed fashion. Lory let out another laugh and gestured for Ren to follow him back out. Ren bowed to the Box’R cast and crew and smiled, then turned to follow Lory. 

He stopped once as he couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle Kyoko’s hair. After smiling at her once more and getting one in return, Ren continued on. Unfortunately, as he was exiting, he also caught sight of the young man from earlier. Ren allowed another snarl to cross his face. The boy seemed both infuriated and terrified. ‘Good, he deserves it. Disrespectful whelp’. Lory turned at the doorway of the studio to check if Ren was following him, but by then Ren’s trademark sunny smile was already back in place.

Lory rolled his eyes, “You ain’t foolin no one boy.”

“Yes Boss.”

(When Kyoko and Ren next talk on their ride home that evening, she will delightedly tell him about how she nailed her scene in the very next run through. He will smile and ruffle her hair.)

4. Morizumi-san & the Day of Kyoko’s Audition

Morizumi had been berating Kyoko for sometime in between breaks of this audition as other actresses went through the reaction test. Kyoko had just stepped out to get some air after the intensity of her own, but she was doomed to have the girl follow her out. Boy did spoiled brats grind her gears. She attempted to keep quiet and withstand this most recent, and bewildering behavior, in an effort to keep professional. 

Erika-san was depending on her to make it through. And Kyoko felt she had to so she could do this role justice. And naturally, she very badly wanted to act with Moko-san. Come on girl, this’ll be worth it later! Her half-hearted attempts at pepping herself up seemed weak in comparison to the rant of one Morizumi-san.

At the same time, Ren, having returned finally from Guam and the shooting of Tragic Marker, had had a little bird (Yashiro, it was Yashiro), tell him where he could find Kyoko. He may have been a little bit unreasonably excited to see her. But finally, he’d have the time to take her out for White Day now that TraMa was done shooting. He couldn’t wait to ask her.

He pulled onto the location set, hoping he could have Yashiro just bring her out so he could ask her without causing too much of a hassle for the other people on set. He pulled onto the ditch of the road, and parked his car offset and out of the way. Stepping out of the car, he meandered up to the nearest building but caught a voice coming around the other side of the building. 

He went unnoticed enough that he caught the tail end of some harsh words. He frowned and peeked around the corner. The surprise turned quickly to a softly simmering anger as he saw a woman berating Kyoko. He quickly disregarded the woman’s disdain and gently tried to catch Kyoko’s attention, “Mogami-san, how is everything going?”

Kyoko, utterly shocked at his appearance, was stopped from answering as Morizumi immediately recognized Ren. Completely distracted from her rant, she latched onto his arm excitedly, and reintroduced herself as a previous costar.

Ren threw a partially concealed smirk to Kyoko, who appeared slightly startled by it, and said as a sidebar to Morizumi’s inane chattering, in English, “Emmental?” 

Kyoko quickly hid a snicker. Morizumi looked between them, confused. But she knew she’d just been made fun of even if she couldn’t figure out how. 

She replied angrily in the same language, “Excuse me?!” She stepped back from Ren, frowned and added in Japanese, “I would never have expected such rudeness from you Tsuruga-san.”

Ren switched to his more gentlemanly manner and smile, not letting his anger show, (even as Kyoko’s grudge’s started peeking out and happily gazed at his look) and softly remarked, “Nor I you, Morizumi-san, what on earth could my kouhai have done to you to deserve such vitriol?”  

Morizumi, embarrassed at the call-out, stepped back and let go of his arm. She had no appropriate response and so turned and hurried back inside, with one parting shot, “Mogami-san, don’t expect to win this, I have it locked down.” 

Kyoko’s brow furrowed as she withstood the sense of irritation that flared up inside at that.

Ren stepped closer to her as he put a hand on his hip and sighed, “It is unfortunate, but sometimes nepotism gets people quite far in this industry. I’m sure this is tough for you Mogami-san, but please don’t give up. Your Momiji will be worth the trials it’ll take to make her a success.”

Kyoko smiled up at him, “I appreciate that very much Tsuruga-san, it seems you always know just what to say. You and Moko-san and Yashiro-san. You’re all rooting for me. I promise I won’t let you down!” 

Ren shot her an indulgent smile and ruffled her hair, “You definitely won’t, but also, I did come here for another reason besides this.”

Kyoko batted away his hand. “Tsuruga-san, you’re slipping into nii-san. Please be more careful.”

Ren smothered his frustration and tried again. “Mogaaaami-san. I’m back two whole days early and you haven’t even said ‘welcome back’ to me yet. Is that how you’re supposed to treat an honored sempai?”

“We-Welcome back!” Kyoko stuttered with a red face as she bowed in greeting. Suddenly, she popped back upright, “Tsuruga-san, why are you back early?”

“Oh things were completed quicker than expected. It’s actually just that boring of a thing. But, more importantly, I’ve had to wait until shooting has been completed due to time constraints to ask this. I wanted to treat you to dinner for your return gift. You were so considerate in my gift I’m obligated to return the favor. What do you say? When would you be free?” 

Kyoko was not quite recovered from her first bout with embarrassment and she struggled painfully with cramming all of her emotions into a mask of neutrality. 

“Ahhhh… that’s a good question. Yashiro-san would know my schedule better than I do I believe…”

Ren smiled and urged her with a hand on her waist to go ahead of him back into the building, “Let’s go find him then, shall we?”

Kyoko was attempting to survive her acute embarrassment at his courteousness as she searched for Yashiro once they entered. “So, shooting went well? No one, um, bothered you too much?”

Ren gazed down at her fondly, “No, nothing like that happened. Everyone made sure to keep their distance. I’m sure the director helped with that.”

Kyoko smiled weakly back up at him and was rather relieved to pick Yashiro out of the other people in the lobby in that next instant. She waved him over once she caught his eye while Ren tried to not stand out too much.

Yashiro hurried over, “Ren! We didn’t expect you back so soon!”

“Yes, it’s quite nice to finish ahead of schedule. Now then, I need to take up some of Mogami-san’s time. When is she next free?” 

Yashiro was a little startled at his forwardness but quickly opened up his planner, “Well, let’s see here, ah, perhaps tomorrow evening? She seems to be free after seven it looks like.”

“Excellent! Where shall I pick you up at Mogami-san?”

“Eh heh…ah, perhaps just LME? I think I’ll be coming from a meeting about a commercial?” Kyoko was now willing herself to make it through this encounter on straight politeness. ‘Really Tsuruga-san, you’ll give a girl ideas. That’s dangerous didn’t you know’.

“I quite appreciate you helping me out with this Mogami-san. I do so hope you wear your Princess Rosa. This is supposed to be fun after all. She should be there with you.”

Kyoko shot him a confused look at his enthusiasm and effusiveness, “I will make sure to do so Tsuruga-san.”

Ren stuffed his hands into his pockets to make them behave, “Well then I leave you two to it. I’m headed home for some much needed sleep.” He turned to walk away but did not get very far.

“Tsuruga-san.

He tilted his head back to look at Kyoko, “Yes?”

“I expect to see videos tomorrow. Please don’t forget to eat tonight also.”

He shot her the smile that her grudges wailed about, “As you wish Mogami-san. As I’ve said, no matter how odd it sounds, if it’s from you, I will obey.” He bowed slightly and made it out the exit before she could respond.

(Kyoko in fact, will not be able to answer, as Yashiro will be squealing too loudly for her to hear herself think anything else other than, ‘damn that man and his playboy ways’.)

5. Of a Date that is Definitely not a Date but an Obligation

“Director Kurosaki!” Kyoko stopped short right in the doorway of the meeting room. 

“Kyoko-san. Nice to see you again. How have things been?” The director stood and offered a slight bow that Kyoko returned. 

“Oh, not bad. Busier now than they used to be.”

Kurosaki chuckled,”I’m sure, please, have a seat. The marketing execs for this company just pulled me in today and I decided to come along to the meeting to get a feel for everything. Also, I thought it might be a good idea to have someone in on this that’s rather familiar with how you work already.”

Kyoko bowed to the rest of people at the table and hurried into a seat so as not to keep them waiting. Kurosaki’s silence seemed to prompt an older gentleman to start speaking. 

“Thank you for meeting with us Kyoko-san. We’re very happy you’ve accepted our proposal. Our team first noticed you as Mio and we were eagerly looking forward to your next big role. When Box'R began airing, our dear assistant here immediately recognized you even with how different you looked. After that, we simply had to put this offer forward to you.”

Kyoko swept her gaze in the direction of said assistant and saw a shy looking young lady who peeked up at her, blushed, and then turned her gaze away again. Kyoko almost forgot her surprise at his words so amusing was the reaction. Kyoko spoke up. 

“I’m quite pleased my work is getting recognition. Thank you very much sir.”

“Please, you can call me Sakichi-san, everyone else does.” 

The last couple of people in the group then introduced themselves and they quickly delved into what they had planned out so far.

Sakichi-san folded his hands as he excitedly leaned forward, “So I really want you as part of our group of style models, so that’s what I’m planning long term for this company. The ultimate decision will be based on how well this commercial deal pans out. But, Saishi Style is quite interested in having this pan out long-term.”

Kyoko tried her best to calm down her rising excitement so she kept her professional air. This offer was sounding better and better by the minute. She nodded thoughtfully as Sakichi-san continued laying out his ideas while Kurosaki began jumping in with some of his own. 

So diverted did the small team become while discussing ideas of the style of commercial that they lost track of time. Which, on any other day, wouldn’t have been a problem. … Ren had had a full eight hours sleep for the first time since he couldn’t even remember when. He woke up the day after returning from Guam feeling refreshed, and a bit befuddled. Then he remembered the day before and what he had planned for that night. It was that thought that woke him all the way up in the middle of brushing his teeth. ‘Ah, shit, forgot to set up a quiet corner at Narisawa’s where we won’t be noticed’. 

He hurried to finish getting ready for the day so he could call up his current favorite restaurant to see if he couldn’t make reservations for that night. Once that was done he decided to relax until he had to pick up Kyoko and just flipped on the television to see what he’d had recorded. Box’R was on the list and he had to chuckle as remembered their escapade under Lory’s direction. Although, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he’d never gotten the full story of that disrespectful boy out of Kyoko. ‘Well, doesn’t matter at the moment’, he pushed that train of thought away as decided to turn the show on. He could always ask that evening. … Ren checked his watch again. It was pushing a quarter after seven. He very rarely knew Kyoko to be late. Unless she’d been held up somewhere. He straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the LME lobby wall and decided to go searching. They had a reservation after all. He knocked slightly against the door of Sawara’s office to get his attention once he got there. 

“Sawara-san, I apologize if I’m interrupting, but I’m looking for Mogami-san.”

Sawara’s eyebrows raised at that but he checked the time and when he saw how late it’d gotten he raised himself up from behind his desk.  

“You’re fine Tsuruga-san, it looks like the meeting is just running behind. I’ll go let them know.”

Ren waved him back down, “It’s alright, she’s expecting me as we had an appointment. I can go and get her. No need for us to further interrupt your work.”

Sawara smiled gratefully, he’d been almost done with the last ream of paperwork. 

“I appreciate that. She’s actually just down the hall, third door on the left.”

Ren nodded in thanks as he left. Attempting to not be too disruptive, he quietly knocked on the door in question. Typically, assistants were close enough to hear that and would peek out to see what was up. 

Indeed, Ren was in luck and the door opened slightly. The assistant’s eyes widened to see who knocked. 

“Tsuruga-san! Ho-how may we help you?” She stuttered. 

Ren gestured for her to come a little closer so he could be not too loud or distracting to the group inside. 

“Mogami-san and I have an appointment we need to keep” He spoke quietly, “Will you please let her know the time?”

The assistant nodded and closed the door again. She turned and swiftly walked to where Kyoko sat chatting with Director Kurosaki. She tapped on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper. 

“Tsuruga-san is outside Mogami-san. He says you have an appointment to keep?” 

Kurosaki and his assistant then had the privilege of witnessing a very red-faced Mogami-san make her apologies about needing to go at the same time as insisting that yes, she really needed to leave right then. Rather amused at the flustered behavior, Kurosaki watched the door shut behind her and swiftly stood up to peek outside to see what she’d had to leave for. 

He was not prepared to see the infamous Tsuruga-san, heartbreaker extraordinaire, smiling indulgently down at a very embarrassed-sounding Kyoko making heartfelt apologies.

“Mogami-san, you don’t have to keep apologizing. We’ll be able to leave in plenty of time to meet our reservation time. And besides, Narisawa isn’t the kind of place to blacklist you for something so silly.” Kurosaki was amazed to see Kyoko let him tuck a fly away bit of hair behind her ear. “Now then, we need to stop by Ten-san’s first. Please keep up.” Kurosaki, still dumbfounded by this behavior, watched as they walked away. 

He stirred when he felt his assistant at his elbow, “Kurosaki-san, are they dating?” 

“Maybe?” Kurosaki slipped his phone out his pocket and shot a text off to a buddy. ‘Hey, Shin-kun, Narisawa’s tonight. My treat.’ He had the sudden urge to satisfy his curiosity. …. “Why are we going to Ten-san’s? Kyoko asked as she hurried behind Ren’s larger stride. 

He laughed a little and then said, “She wanted to treat you in return for her gift, and we thought you’d like it after a hard day’s work.”

“Oh, well, thank you very much for thinking of me.” 

Ren pushed open Ten-san’s door as he replied, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Ren-kun! Kyoko-chan! Wonderful to see you again!” Ten directed Kyoko to a closet further inside her work area. “Come along, and Ren, wait out here.”

Ren waited patiently, amused by the excited squealing of Kyoko inside as she got to watch Ten work. About fifteen minutes later Ten-san stepped back out and presented a much more refreshed looking and fashionable Kyoko. Ren watched fondly as she bowed her thanks several times over before coming back to Ren’s side so they could leave. 

Ren placed a hand at her waist to escort her back out to his car. “And do you feel fashionably beautiful now Mogami-san? Because you certainly look it.”

Kyoko ducked her head, embarrassed at the compliment, but quietly affirmed that yes she did. The sooner Tsuruga-san could get the compliment out of the way the less on guard she had to be about it. 

It was a mostly quiet car ride as Kyoko attempted to settle her nerves and shore up her defenses. Ren looked over at her a couple of times trying to gauge her mood but let her relax a little. He didn’t want her uncomfortable. It was supposed to be a relaxing and enjoyable evening. 

By the time Ren was escorting her in with a hand on her waist into the restaurant, she was almost used to him doing so. The host, as soon as they walked in, made sure to swiftly seat them at an out of the way corner table. 

“The chef will be out shortly Tsuruga-san, we know you wanted to keep a low-profile so he will come to you. May I take a drink order?” The host asked as Ren and Kyoko seated themselves.  

“I’d like a bottle of moscato, whichever the chef thinks would be best.” Ren replied. 

Kyoko fidgeted a bit trying to decide but eventually just asked for a water. The host bowed and left them to it. They waited a little bit longer in silence before the host returned and then whisked himself away again. Confident that he had a little time before the chef could tear himself away, Ren decided to speak up. 

“How was your meeting?”

“Both exciting and rather simple. Exciting for the potential, but a simple scheduling and production planning meeting.” Kyoko sent him a small smile that he returned before he caught sight of the chef headed towards them. 

The chef introduced himself and Ren turned to Kyoko and said, “Do you trust me to order? This is one of my favorite places.”

The chef beamed to hear the compliment and Kyoko felt she shouldn’t say no after that, even as suspicious as she was about Ren having a favorite place to eat, and so nodded her assent. Once the order was placed Ren turned back to Kyoko and decided to lob the hard ball right off the bat. 

“Mogami-san, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do we not discuss things as we used to?”

Blinking rapidly, Kyoko responded hesitantly, “I’m sorry?” 

“I told you how I felt your last day in Guam. That I really, truly appreciate all you do for me. Why, when I ask to reciprocate that support, can I not get that same regard from you?”

Kyoko quietly began to panic, “Um Tsuruga-san, I surely could never impose on you like that. You’re my respected sempai who has already helped me so much on work matters. I couldn’t possibly impose further. It’d be disrespectful.”

Ren frowned as he drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m afraid we’re having a miscommunication here. I have asked you a few times in the past couple weeks to let me be able to return the support you have shown me. Is it not more disrespectful to continue to disregard my feelings on this? You’re leaving me in a state that takes advantage of your emotional support without me being able to do that in return.”

Kyoko was stunned into silence as she contemplated this. Ren continued.  

“I would not bring it up, however, this is a distinct change in attitude from how we used to be free to discuss things as we pleased. I’m not going to demand to be able to help you as you need, but I do demand the respect of you at least telling me why this has changed. Have I truly caused so many issues for you that you decided that this relationship wasn’t worth the emotional support we gained from being friends?”

Kyoko almost couldn’t believe her ears. Not only had her efforts to have a more walled off self been disrespectful, but she was actively hurting Ren’s feelings. This was the worst scenario possible. 

“Tsuruga-san, I do apologize. I had not realized how I had been behaving. I could not tell you how or where or why it began, but if you truly consider us friends, I will do my utmost to treasure you as not only a respected sempai but also as a friend.” 

Ren, having released some of his pent-up frustration, gently smiled at her downturned head. “Please look at me Mogami-san.” She shyly raised her gaze. “I consider you one of my best and truest friends. Please don’t forget that.”

Kyoko blushed at the compliment, (and she feared that she’d never really be not embarrassed around him by this point) but she smiled back at him, “I promise I won’t Tsuruga-san.”

“That’s all I ask for. Now, what have you been up to recently?” The conversation soon turned to lighter topics. (Kyoko had done quite well in school recently and was quite proud. Ren found it adorable.) But then they were soon distracted by being served their meal.

“This is so good Tsuruga-san, thank you!” Kyoko was delighted by the taste of her beef dish. 

“I’m glad I have your trust in this aspect of my eating habits at least,” he teased. Kyoko shot him a look and promptly held out her hand. 

“Speaking of, your phone please.”

“Yes ma'am.” He snickered and happily turned it over to her. As she watched his videos, he cast his eyes about the restaurant. He’d planned for it to be a later dinner as it was a weeknight and he thought it might be less busy. It seemed he was in luck again. He saw maybe a couple groups of diners near him so there would be few public witnesses to this. 

He rummaged in his coat pocket for the jewelry box he’d stashed in it. As he heard Kyoko finishing up the last video he pushed the long box across the table. Startled, she gazed down at it in disbelief. 

“Tsuruga-san, you didn’t.” He whistled innocently as outrage began to cross her face.

“Tsuruga-san!” 

“Tusuruga-!“ He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his hand as her outrage made her voice start to get louder. 

“We can do this the hard way, or we can do it the easy, less public way. What do you say?” he had to grin at the fire that blazed in her eyes as she remembered where they were. ‘My God do I love a woman with a temper.’ Trying to tuck his urge to tease away, he continued, “This is truly what I got you as a gift. I just used the dinner as an excuse to get to spend time with you not discussing work.”

Kyoko’s eyes widened over his hand. She quickly slipped her hand over his to tug it off her mouth. “Tsuruga-san!”

“Words other than you calling my name please, Mogami-san.” The urge to tease was definitely winning. 

After a bit more huffing Kyoko finally ground out the words, “How do you possibly think I can accept this after everything else you’ve done for me today?”

“May I ask you instead, why do you feel unable to do so?”

Kyoko stared for a second, “Because you already did so much for me.”

Ren smiled, “Please, do you think you could list what specifically I did?”

“Well, you set this all up with the chef, and the restaurant. You and Ten-san made me look nice. You picked me up, when I was late, and drove me.”

“To elaborate, anyone can call this establishment and ask for that. That’s nothing special. Ten-san had been wanting to dress you up just for fun for a while. Because you treat her well and she wanted to return that regard. As I asked you a favor to meet with me tonight, I would naturally take care of the expenses and arranging to get you there and back. It’s only polite. Now what in this list of things have you deemed as something of so high value that you won’t let me give you your actual gift?”

Kyoko, throughout Ren’s speech, had wilted further and further into her chair. “You are cruel today Tsuruga-san.”

Ren eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I fail to see how refusing to allow your excessive inferiority complex affect actual social convention is cruel Mogami-san.”

“Was this all just an excuse for you to lambast me for my behavior?”

“Mogami-san, please, would you open your gift?”

“Answer me Tsuruga-san. I think I deserve that much.”

Ren groaned and rubbed at the crease this discussion was causing to appear between his eyebrows. “No Mogami-san, I did not, I apologize for giving you reason to believe that. But, as you may already be aware, I find myself not being able to control my tongue when you get me riled up”

He blew out a frustrated breath, and tried to soldier on, “To be perfectly frank, I do find your lack of acceptance of what I would to give you be it my attention, or help, or even gifts, frustrating. You seem to be able to accept these things from your other friends with little resistance. Can you see where I’m coming from?“

Kyoko picked at her food, shifted her gaze back to the box, and then back up to his worried face. He might have had a point there about that. He may have seen it as going back on her promise of considering him a friend. Friends had certain privileges, she knew that very well. She stuffed back her grumpiness and reached out to take the box. 

She was glad to see Ren’s face clear up at the action. She flipped open the lid and promptly dropped it back down on the table once she saw what was inside. 

“Tsuruga-san!“

With a voice heavy with irony, he leaned over the table and mimicked, “Mogami-san!”

Letting out a faint groan she let the back of her chair catch her exasperated self. Ren chuckled a bit to see such a dramatic thing come out of the typically reserved Mogami-san. He risked taking her hand and pulling it closer to him. She cracked open an eye just in time to see him flip the box open and take out the bracelet inside. The delicate gems were exactly like Princess Rosa in shade and depth of color but much tinier in size as they were spread out across the chain work of the bracelet.

Ren motioned between her wrist and the bracelet, “May I?“

Kyoko, grumbled unhappily but nodded her acquiescence. She struggled mightily with containing the words she wanted to say about playboy ways. ‘He’s already explained this. This is a gift because I was thoughtful in my gift. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.’

Ren promptly blew that out of the water as he finished clasping her bracelet on her wrist by giving her hand a brief kiss. He smiled up at her as she snatched her hand back, “For your perseverance Mogami-san. Any prince will be lucky to have you.”

Kyoko sniffed as she held her hand close to her, “You know I’m not interested in that Tsuruga-san. I’m focusing on my work so I can bet the best actress I can be. So I can be the number one actress in Japan!“

Ren sent her back a fond smile, “Regardless Mogami-san, you deserve to be treated well. Don’t let any man take advantage of your pragmatic attitude and have them say that you don’t deserve to be treated the best they can treat you. That, Mogami-san, is self-respect.”

Kyoko suddenly felt incredibly, incredibly dumb and felt every bit of the naivety of her seventeen years. 

“I am so deeply sorry Tsuruga-san. Have you been trying to make that point this entire time?”

He chuckled and held up a hand, his forefinger and thumb close together, “Just a little bit.”

Kyoko felt a truly content smile spread across her face and bowed slightly in her chair in thanks, “I truly do appreciate what seems to be your neverending wisdom and patience Tsuruga-san.”

“I’m glad to hear that but more importantly. How do you like it?”

She smiled at him brightly, “I love it! It’s the perfect matching set.” She continued in the vein for some time, babbling about beauty and grace and fairies galore. Ren could only smile at her indulgently behind his glass of wine.

Two tables ahead of them and to the right, Shingai-san, Kurosaki’s buddy and sempai from their college's motion picture program, turned away from the couple’s table and could only say to Kurosaki’s smug face, “Damn. I guess I owe you that thousand yen.”

(When Kyoko wakes up in the morning she will first see her bracelet and necklace. It will leave her with a smile for the rest of the day.)

~Fin

A/N: Any feedback is welcome! Thank you everyone that participated in this week of KyokoxRen prompts. Your work inspired me throughout this week! It gave me the passion to get this completed, so thank you all. Regards, Artsy

@ariverofmilk‘s post actually reminded me of a Very Personal Opinion I have with Tezuka’s feelings* towards Sapphire and how she’s been treated after his death. Y’all gon to hear my sleep-induced ramblings at this hour whoops Feel free to disagree but I get super annoyed at some point, haha.

I think Tezuka always had a special spot in his heart for Sapphire. She was one of his first full-fledged main heroines (not like Michi from Metropolis in a one-shot) and the one with whom he placed a lot of personal connections. I don’t mean personal as in life experiences or his own feelings like he did with Black Jack, but personal as in the Takarazuka Revue and Takarazuka, the city he grew up in -- the actresses who cross-dressed to play male roles. Then the fact that Princess Knight had still a lot of his Disney influences, like, he went to town with them!

That he came back to the story not once, but three times** (one in sequel form) I think speaks volumes about how much he must have wanted it to be good or important. Parts of Princess Knight dealing with her gender may be dated or not, depending on your point of view, but let’s be real: it’s still amazing that he got away with it in Fifties Japan. Can you imagine reading Nakayoshi back then with stories that “told” you how a supposed ideal of what a girl should be and then seeing a character like Sapphire not accept that/deal with identity issues along the very same lines?!

(Yes, I’m ignoring the ending of the revised edition a little bit BEAR WITH ME)

Throughout the years, whenever he felt she was needed again, she’d crop up Famously, we all know her most appearances post-PK was in Black Jack. Then there was Marine Express -- a series where he didn’t need to put her in, as there’d been other female characters of his who may have been more relevant. Yet there she is! Then there’s the cult image of Tezuka characters dressed up as DC characters where she is an amazing Wonder Woman.

I know what you’re going to say and/or thinking: “she’s one of the most famous Tezuka characters! DUH of course she’s going to be used a lot!”

True enough. That’s just plain branding. It’s why Tezuka Productions uses her still. Most generations in Japan know of her by personal experience or cultural sponging, much like Superman in the States.

But that there is the difference.

Tell me, why did Tezuka on a talk show decide to draw Sapphire instead of another (possibly better-loved) character from his own universe?*** Why does Tezuka Productions keep including her in Tezuka Apparel, create an Ambassador to Takarazuka for tourism reasons (exceptionally appropriate and cool, btw!) and cameos her in the animated adaptations of manga chapters where she appeared in?

And yet at the same gorram time, compared to Batman Black Jack****, she hasn’t had the multitude of anime adaptations, manga prequels or sequels by other artists, or artists of caliber tackle her story again compared to him! To not say anything of Astro Boy! (Though that one’s more understandable, tbh.) Let’s do that though, let’s look at numbers:

PK has only had one full-blown anime adaptation and that was in the sixties. This is not counting the Tezuka Museum short from the 90s that honestly should’ve been a longer movie (and was posted in full a few years back on YouTube, now taken down), her role in the Last Mystery of the 20th Century which was Super Amazing, her role in that godawful Ravex in Tezuka World and her lottery ad that’s the only new animation with the current Tezuka animated style.

She had two musicals over Black Jack (oh god it does exist though), where each one wove their own interpretation of the story. One’s from 2006 backed by idols and the other one’s from 2015, also backed by...idols...

I don’t have a problem with idols playing Tezuka but that’s an odd pattern.

She’s only had TWO --count ‘em T W O-- manga adaptations post-Tezuka. One is horrible all around and the other one has decent art at least.***** The former makes no sense and the latter is so rare, barely any info is available and not even a dang old manga page from it pops up on Google!

That’s it, that’s all she got, folks.

Meanwhile, Black Jack has Dezaki, live-action serial adaptations, the 2 or 3 Macoto Tezuka-directed 2000s series of Black Jack, the Young Black Jack franchise, and the Black Jack NEO manga where BJ’s an old guy. That was a cool idea, how come nobody else gets that treatment! Count ‘em though, that’s a lot of creations!

(Admittedly, BJ is more popular than Sapphire is maybe, but I digress.)

“But what about Kimba/insert-other-relevant-Tezuka-characters--?”

GORRAM, SAPPHIRE IS PART OF A FREAKIN’ TRINITY OR QUATRINITY OR HOWEVER YOU WANT TO CALL THE MAIN SUPERSTARS OF THE TEZUKA STAR SYSTEM AND SHE WAS ONE OF FIRST TEZUKA HEROINES SO T H E R E

Compared to how Tezuka treated her, and how the fandom on both sides of the Pacific treat her, you’d think Tezuka Productions would get in on making sure PK actually got decent manga and/or anime THINGS! (We’re just counting those, I know, I’m all over the place by this point.) Instead, they’ve been butchering adapting things like Buddha.

...Maybe that’s a good thing at this point, I don’t know. I just want the company to consider her as serious for an adaptation as her creator did. More Black Jack or Astro Boy is always fine but they should go back to his other creations too. That PK gets musicals does ring true to its importance but...The time should be ripe for a serious-as-in-taking-it-serious-and-not-grim-and-gritty undertaking of a story like Princess Knight...right?

*For lack of a better word, since he dead and we ain’t about assuming dead people’s thoughts around here. Analysis sure but yo though--

**Tezuka came back to stories to refine or redo them, I know. But the series I can think of where he did this frequently is Astro Boy, and no one else. I MAY BE WRONG IN MY TEZUKA KNOWLEDGE.

***This is a snippet of a larger thing, both untranslated. Who knows if she was requested? Also, see asterisk one.

**** I love Black Jack. I’m just sayin’ he’s the Oversaturated Batman of Tezuka Pro, if you sit down and think about it, haha.

***** I tried to be impartial but I couldn’t have you seen the Pink Hanamori manga version????