#listened to a lot of David Bowie while packing and A LOT of Talking Heads while unpacking

[damian-janus-pendragon]

Not me posting my Spotify wrapped way after the hype has died. _(:τ」∠)_

[blondrichclosetwitch]

House meeting six month mark 3/11/17

(On the 10th around 4, Gina told me Jakk would be shot that night. This is the next morning.)

“I’m listening. is he already… Is he already in surgery? (Long pause) Did he make me his emergency contact? I am… Is it Bellevue Hospital? What time should I go? I should go now. Just go talk to the doctors, find out what they have to say. See Blond,…and then come home? Should I call Bellevue Hospital first and make sure that he’s there? Oh my God here we go again.

This is at 9:30 AM on March 11. I’m meeting with Gina, random ,Stella , David Bowie , God and Jakk . We just called in spirits and did our protection and the tree is also here.. Her name is Sarah. She’s in my right hand. Stella’s in my left while all of them are kind of in my left. So am I to understand that this went down last night? Last night was the six month anniversary of when I had the vision of Jakk leaving Blond, and Blond shooting him in the leg and Gina showed to me at about 4 o’clock in the afternoon that it was going to happen. So this happened last night.

Yes.

And jakk is in surgery right now?

Yes.

But he is still able to keep psychic connection with me.

I went to Bellevue Hospital this morning, and he is not there.

He is at a different hospital is that correct?

Yes.

Is the idea that I’m just supposed to call hospital after hospital and find out which one he’s at?

Has Blond been arrested yet?

Yes. She has? She has. Yes. She was arrested.

Did jakk make me his emergency contact?

So I should go to the hospital after we do tree ritual?

So after tree ritual I come back here and we start finding the hospital.

Should I pack a bag to still go to that Manhattan space to work today? Yes? So I should shave my legs before I go. So we’re probably leaving here at 12, go to the hospital, find out where it is, talk to doctors, find out what time he’s supposed to get out of surgery… Gina do you think that you could look at a time and see what it is?

So he’s _________________? (I was told he was a certain benevolent figure from history; in fact it was put in my head in a psychic sex session where I was shown a scene of him being shot as said person)

That’s why he kept Blond away from me. Is there… Should I do a cord cutting wait….Stella Stella’s better at it probably… Stella can you do a cord cutting between him and Blond? Can you and archangel Michael do a cord cutting between them so that she can’t do anything on him while he’s… If you’re not already on that… Are you already on that?

Yeah of course you are.

Is there… I don’t know. I don’t have much left. I know I need a massage but now it’s not the time.

Can I just ask about the dream?

I saw Maya and Fab and Lana and I was driving a truck that I couldn’t see out of that felt like it was going to crash. But it didn’t. And I wasn’t with any of them. They all have each other. Is the point that I didn’t crash even though I couldn’t see? Is the point that God has me? Even if I don’t know where I’m going.

Is his hair dark or was it just that he was wearing a hat? It was a hat? I really want to see him. Can we go? I’m going to call the hospitals and one of them is gonna say he’s there, you think? Cause if not I’m gonna go nuts.

I mean is there a point to me having to always look for the information? Is this a past life thing? I’m tired you guys. So tired. You swear that it like comes together today? I’m trying to feel. I mean it’s the 11th so it was supposed to happen last night. He’s my handsome man.

I love your eyeshadow I never told you that. And your fake fur and your long hair. And I might become a singer. I like to put on shows do you know that about me oh you might’ve looked at my past I put on shows as a child all the time and I go around the classrooms putting on little shows and I dress my brother up in women’s clothes and my grandfather didn’t like that at all. I’m sure everyone has lots of stuff to say but first I need a fucking tree. It’s been a rough night since the last tree, and let me just say I need a tree. Do you know what I’m saying? And a cup of coffee. And I’m just gonna put a dildo in front of your mouth for now babe cause like I have no… I’ll talk dirty to you all day long has that? Can I just talk dirty to you and you can just think about me in a strap on? Will that help? Oh and now God‘s streaming in through the window.

You wanna add your two cents before I… Yeah he does. Yeah I’m listening. So I’m definitely having some moments where I’m starting to think I’m crazy in the last 24 hours. And I’m still not 100% sure cause I’m sitting here talking to 1,2,3,4,5,6….., six pictures.

And I went to another hospital and he wasn’t there, and I went to his restaurant and he didn’t come out. So guess who looks crazy.

Guess who looks fucking out of her mind crazy. Sorry for swearing.

Yeah I know it’s doubt again, and I know I’m supposed to clear it out with Langston, and I know it’s what keeps popping up every single time. But like you try showing up at hospitals time and time again, in the middle of the night, or early morning, expecting yes, that this is gonna be the time where they say yes he’s here and they act like you are… Nope, no one here. (Imitating hospital guide) “This girl doesn’t know where she is. This girl doesn’t know what’s going on.”

I mean, I…..I yeah I’ve been fighting with some doubt. I spend most of my time in belief and then I facedoubt … And then I try to move back to believe. But I’m getting weak. I am… You know how they say that like you get to almost the breaking point, that’s what the ten of wands is about. Like I’m not quite sure… i’m trusting. I’ve been praying to you because I believe that… This is real between us. I’m talking about you and I now. That you came in and you started protecting me, and that I’m cared for and taken care of. And that’s part of the reason why… I never would’ve thought of saying the psalms. But they changed my life and then I discovered how affected by you Bono is, and it’s been coming out of me in song, and… I’m really feeling that, and Kanye feels that way too and I’m starting find people…

But… There’s something that’s been happening with us going from place to place in this past little chapter of having to go somewhere, and jakk not be there, where it feels like my brain is cracking. And I know you know that jack is the love of my life. I know you know this. In my heart of hearts I’m never gonna love someone like this again. You and I know this. And like I said last night to Gina, Steel has hinted that it’s a confusion, I don’t think it is. But… I trust that you’re breaking us together.

But the little steps every day have been and having to trust without any contact without for seven months is enough to drive a person insane. It’s a lot to ask. And I can’t say anything for him, I can only speak for myself. I don’t know what’s real for him I only know what’s real for me. And I’ve been asking for one thing the whole time so I could just have my head and my heart. And it’s slowly been tearing me down, and either way whether my heart breaks, the bottom line is… I’m trying to hear you. Because you already know all this. I feel like I did everything that you told me too. I’m trying to forgive her like you told me, I’m trying to forgive her I’m trying to understand. I’m hearing a negative… No? Not a negative? Now I feel like I failed because I didn’t see her.

“She is violent.”yes I know. “ She created it” I know it’s gonna still hurt. (Bursts into tears for a very long time)

Did Stella have this gift too?

Of course she did.

(Goes back to crying)

Is Laurie gonna admit to the spells now? Like will….will …will I be able to bring it to court?

You’re so beautiful, katelan. Even upside down.

OK. I’m done crying. Let’s stop for now. I got it.

I’m so lucky. More later. Tree. Coffee. Tree.

(She laughs. End tape.)

Talking to gina/ j in surgery/ shot 3/11

Should we stand?so he’s still in surgery? Do you want to tell me what time he’ll be done? It’s 12 now, shall we do hours? (Starts listing the hours til 11) 11? Ok. Have you ever guided anyone before like this? But you’re not guiding anyone else right now is that correct?

Is that person still alive? Is it a woman? So for finding the hospital what do you suggest I do to start? The police station came up. Do you suggest that I call and ask if there were any shootings from last night? Should I call the precinct on Meserole?

And then do I get a list of hospitals from them? Or do I just say “if there was a shooting what hospitals would you go to?”

Do you want me to ask all the questions right now? I’m not even sure what to ask. So they’re going to say “yes there was a shooting. “

And I’ll say I’m the girlfriend.

And then I just have to call the hospital and find out where he is.

And then you want me to pack a bag and go to the hospital and talk to the doctors… He made me his emergency contact? How is he doing?

Stella is staying with him and the other spirits are staying with him so I can stay in this world but I can still talk to him and listen to his songs and stuff and sing to him, right?

Just make sure I do the three tree rituals… But go to the hospital first but the police… Will they give me the name… and will they say there was a shooting? What if… Is it that police station by the Y? Is it possible that it’s not the Meserole police station? So I might have to call a couple? I might have to call a couple. But most likely it is.

Are you sure that this is happening in this world, the real world?So should I do that first and then we can check back in? OK I’m gonna start that.

I know. I know.

I know it happened.

Ok, let me try calling.

(End tape)

[idjitlili]

The Goblin king...the one without warts.

Thorin x reader.

(Not my image.)

Summary:Imagine being apart of the company, of course Gandalf shoves you in with no choice. Growing close to Thorin eventually, after stopping at an inn.

A/n:Anon request includes ,but I won't spoil it. I do not own any characters.

Word count:4682

Characters:Y/n, the company, humans, elves, and David Bowie as Jareth.

Songs:ziggy stardust, as the world falls down.

Warnings: Alcohol, just ale. Uh mentions of jareths pants , and reference to a jareths 'magic'

It's only forever, it's not long at all. Only if we have forever, but we all die. We are not elves, we are not Morgan Freeman. Unless, you aren't telling me something?

Thus, you must take risks; to live the life you want to. The reason that you finally agreed to go an adventure, via Gandalf's request. Not that the leader of the group, that you'd be joining on this adventure,  did not like the fact that a hobbit was joining , let alone alone you, a human, female. Not impressed to say the least.

You had just ignored the tree trunks insults, and seeking the company of the small hobbit. Both of you were in the same position, except you could maybe launch Thorin over a cliff. 

Unknowingly Thorin had created a friendships, well between you, Bilbo, Fili and Kili. After you and Bilbo had decided to mock Thorin in secret.

"Wait, wait, I've got one." Standing up placing one leg on the log, hands on hips, head up , shaking you head slowly as if the wind was blowing it. "How's my hair?" Mocking Thorins low voice, looking at Bilbo who had stopped giggling, moving his eyes crazily to gesture behind you.

Turning your head slightly, to see Thorin staring at you. " Can I help you?" Unmistakable using a lower voice than normal, Thorin scrunched his brows together slightly. "What are you up to?" His eyes glazing over your stature, and posture.

"Oh, If you must know, Bilbo has been making sure that my family jewels have not dropped off due to my massive ego, last time he had to stitch them up because I am such a prick. Not that I could produce because I'm like 160." Maintaining eye contact with Thorin, chest fully pressed into the air, basically superhero pose, now off the log.

Thorin did not understand what you were talking about. "Get your things , we are moving on." Bilbo had just covered his mouth facing down, his eyes looking up.

“Do not test me , Y/n, I will throw you off a cliff, as if you was an end of bread. You are not worthy of this journey," Kili and Fili had been sat by, watching the scene unfold, as Thorin just stared at you. Kili walking over to you.

"Uncle!"

"My sisters son," Pulling Kili into a bear hug, him being the little bear, before pushing him off of you. "Get of me, people will think I'm soft, I am pure steel."   You had not even noticed Thorin leaving.

"That was horrible," It really was, could you be anymore cringy? "You annoyed Uncle though, I am surprised he didn't put you into line." Fili didnt speak much, but when he did, it wasn't useless trivia.

"My arms may have no muscle, but does not mean I couldn't carry both Bilbo and Kili to their horses." Okay, maybe you would be able to actually, but it gained the trios attention. "I highly doubt that, y/n"

Bending your knees so that your back was in front of Kili, hands ready to grab his calves. "Y/n, are you sure? I don't want you t-"" we don't have all day, Kili."

" okay, Thorin." You had scoffed, as Kili had managed to get on your back, arms around your neck, legs around your front. "No, no,no not me." Bilbo shook his head furiously, in disagreement , as you gestures for him to get up.  "Bilbo , please." Bilbo had sighed , as Fili watched you then pick up Bilbo, holding him Bridal style.

It was like carrying nothing, it was definitely a lot of weight, yet you still put in a face and walked through camp with them. Even if you couldn't fight, you weren't completely weak.

You had gained the attention of the dwarves, who Kili waved by in excitement , Bilbo just pretend to be dead in embarrassment.  Thorin had caught your eye for a second as you walked by him, lift Bilbo onto his pony, Thorin told you pack, you were packing...Kili had then gotten off your back when you had kneeled down.

But what you didn't know, was that Thorin eyes were on you most of everyday during the the journey, you just happened to be oblivious to the gazes on you. 

If you did catch Thorins gaze, you just thought that he was judging your actions,others picked up on their kings behaviour.  Though they did not tell you, they did tease Thorin. Well only Dwalin , Kili and Fili dared to.  Actually it was Bilbo who noticed first.

It was probably a few days after almost being eaten by trolls, that Thorin had began to develop feelings. At first he had just thought that you were mildly annoying like his nephews, that impression, was terrible. But once you were all captured by trolls...

You had pretended to be dead, the trolls had tossed you aside, and every time they were not looking you would crawl slightly. Tossing you aside for dessert. Thorin had caught this. Pulling faces as at him, as you slowly got closer, Thorin watching for the trolls.

When you had gotten next to Thorin, you had pulled a knife from you pocket , cutting the sack he was in. You had cut through quite a bit of the sack; when Thorin had pulled his hands out lifting you , shoving you into the sack with him, just as Berts eyes had glided over the dwarves.

That was when the trolls had noticed you had disappeared, but you were stuffed into the bottom of Thorins sack. You were too tall for the sack, your legs curled up, back inbetween Thorins legs. "Where is the human?!" The trolls had began to looking around finding no sign of you ,the moved on soon enough.

"Uh...the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is um..." Bilbo had tried to distract the trolls , after seeing Gandalf of course you couldn't see , you could only smell Thorin.

"Uh...not...not that one, he...he's infected!"

"You what?"

"Yeah he's got worms in his...tubes."

"Ooh!"

"In-in fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites, it's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites? Did he say parasites?" The dwarves were not the smartest bunch to say the least.

"Yeah, we don't have parasites! You have parasites!"

Thorin had realised that Bilbo is trying to buy them time and kicks Kili, but ends up smacking you with his calf, making you groan , only for Thorin to gently squeeze your shoulder, the trolls had been too busy listening to dwarves , that they never heard your quiet groan.

Gandalf soon had arrived, saving you all as always, the trolls turned to stone. It didn't take long for Bilbo to realise you were missing still. "Where's y/n?"

"I'm over here, Bilbo." You could not get out of the sack neither could Thorin, without someone helping you out. Kili being next to Thorin, had heard your voice, turning to see his uncles, feet looking a bit too pointy. "Where?"

Bilbo had turned in circles in search, Thorin just later there with the most unimpressed face.

"Bilbo, she's over here." Bilbo had hoped over , out of the sack, before opening the sack at the top to allow Thorin could shuffle out. Standing up, Thorin had pulled you up and out by your hand.

"T-thanks, um, your thighs are very comfortable, if I was murderer , I would make them into pillows. Oh, um, thanks , uh," your face flushed pink, noticing how you sounded and that both Bilbo and Kili was right next to you. Sometimes you are ought to think before you speak, a common term taught to children, yet you do not. You had rushed off back to camp, after that.

Tis was a compliment to dwarves for a woman to comment on their thighs or stature.

That was it, Thorin began to notice things about you, you helping Bilbo onto his pony when he needed help, even if he didn't directly ask. The way you'd slip on mud , even if it was dry, save yourself and look around wide eye if anyone had seen. How your arms got tired as you'd try to plait your hair. Slapping Kili gently on the back of the head if he said something mean about one of the others. Normally Kili picked on Ori's knitting .

Of course, Thorin thought his affections only went one way. You could not deny, the dwarven king was intoxicating, you were highly attracted to him. He was a mean guy, no he was not , he didn't want Bilbo to get killed going in this journey to help him.

You hadn't spoken to Thorin directly really, well until he allowed the company to stop at an

inn for the night, which everyone was happy about. The Dwarves were mostly excited for ale. You just hoped they had a deep clean...

Luckily they did , and soon everyone was a sat tables in the pub, 3 separate ones, you being stuck next to Thorin ,Bilbo next to you, Bofur next to him,Kili and Fili so on. Next came the ale, being pushed in front of you all.

Bilbo asked for a tea, but Bofur wouldn't have it, so there sat Dildo sipping at the pint of ale. Whilst everyone drank down theres soon enough, you just drinking it , because you was shoved against Thorin. After your fourth ale that's when you heard it.

A noise like a hurricane , the soaring winds of the mans pipes opened.

"Oh

Oh, yeah

Ziggy played guitar

Jamming good with Weird and Gilly

And the Spiders from Mirkwood

He played it left hand

But made it too far

Became the special man" Looking over to the small stage, a skinny man, with a huge blond Mohawk stood, his bare chest exposed showing a large pendant on his lower chest.

"Then we were Ziggy's band

Ziggy really sang

Screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo

Like some cat from Japan

He could lick 'em by smiling

He could leave 'em to hang" Your breath hitched, as your eyes travelled down to his pants, he wore a legging type pants, showing off everything

"They came on so loaded, man

Well-hung and snow-white tan

So where were the spiders

While the fly tried to break our bones?

With just the beer light to guide us

So we bitched about his fans

And should we crush his sweet hands?" The dwarves and hobbit noticed your change, following your eyes to the man on stage.

"Do you know him?" Fili had snapped you out of your trance quickly, "o-oh, um, I haven't seen him for a long time."

"Who is he, lass?" Thorin said nothing just stared back between you and the man, as you kept glancing at him. Bofur had waited for your reply, calling over more ales. "my best friend ." That was the truth, not that anyone knew but you had wished yourself away to the goblins, thus a friendship bloomed.

Growing up you didn't have many friends, you still don't , Jareth was always there for you, you didn't want to out him being a fae.

"He was the nazz

With God-given ass

He took it all too far."

That's when he caught your eye, sending you a wink before continuing to sing with ease.

Half an hour later, you were starting to feel a little more free, after more ale, leaning onto Thorin for support.

"There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed." Jareth had started his 15 song of the evening, you had jumped up, well start up. "Thorin! Come on, let's dance." You had pushed him slightly. "Why?"

"Just come on, 'deep in your eyes a kind a pale eye,' that's you so you must dance with me, please." Thorin had finally had budged , standing up, his eyes were gems indeed. You had grabbed onto Thorins hand pulling him onto the cleared floor. You didn't know how to dance not really, but it was the heat of the moment. Well actually you had danced with Jareth during his masquerade.

"Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast." Placing one hand onto Thorins shoulder, the other into his hand, you could only hope you weren't making a fool of yourself. Jareth did like to be generous.

"In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon."

Looking into Thorins , bright eyes, which stared back into yours, you followed suit with steps , you hadn't realised that Jareth had changed your clothes into a white gown and sorted your hair, but the others and Thorin noticed. Following Thorins eyes down to your clothing you had get let out a snort.

"Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone" The dwarves hadn't seen Thorin dance since he was a prince, yet there he was with you dancing. Your eyes never leaving Thorins, as you danced in sync, turning together in a circular motion.

"I cannot wait for you to see Erebor." Thorin voice was quiet not to interrupt the music. You had grinned in confusion. "I thought you didn't want me on this quest? Why would you want me to see Erebor?"

"Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou."

"So that you can attend a proper ball." You had smirked at the King, who just smiled at you.

"Well, you have got plenty of time to tell me all about Erebor, on this journey, that is if you speak to me after this."

"As the world falls down

Falling."

"As you wish." Thus you both just went back to just dancing smiling a little more now.

"As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love." Though there was a room full of people surrounding you, it felt as if you were in your own world.  Your own crystal...

"I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now

We're choosing the path

Between the stars." You could only hope that everyone would make it to Erebor...

"I'll leave my love

Between the stars

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down" As the song finished, you had pressed a kiss to Thorins cheek, Jareth was having a break, you had let go of Thorin, telling him you'd be right back.

Still in your puffy gown, you had made your way over to Jareth standing at the bar with a glass of what could only be described as some sort of rose fancy drink, fit for a fae king. Jareth had placed the glass onto the side, holding his arms out for you.

Jumping into his arms, spinning you around, legs up , before placing you back onto the floor. "Jareth, I missed you." Jareth grinned back you showing his teeth , "as have I missed you, so you and the dwarven king?" Jareth had looked passed to you to Thorin, you looking back too to see Thorin glaring.

"Uh, I dont know, did you know we was going to be here?" Jareth had grinned larger, confirming his answer. "Come meet my friends quickly." You had grabbed Jareth by his hand leading him to your table.

The dwarves and the hobbit had looked up from their conversations, mostly with smiles. "Uh, guys , this is my best friend , Jareth, Jareth this is Bofur, Fili,Kili,Thorin and Bilbo." You had gave Jareth a side hug, he had clicked his fingers and you were in your regular clothes. " 'ello," Thorin had looked Jareth over as you squashed next to Thorin ,with Jareth next to you.

"So, what are you?" Kili bluntly asked,staring at Jareth in interest. "He's the g-ubli- king." Jareth had silenced you for a second blurring the word Goblin. "I'm sorry , what?" Bilbo Baggins was always intrigued by others, especially if you looked like Jareth. "He is a king."

"Of what."

"Now that , Bofur, is for you to figure out." Jareth was indeed a confusing, mysterious man, he seemed to have sobered the dwarves up.

"How did you do that with the dress?"

"You are a very curious lot , aren't you? - "

Jareth could be nasty, you were surprised with his behaviour.

"Well, then how did you meet him , y/n/n?"

" she wished to be taken."

"...Y-you are th-" Bilbo knew he had heard of the man he had heard sing, his books had had came in use. But again Jareth had cut Bilbo off, he knew what Dwarves were like.

"Clever hobbit."

Now, my love, if you need me you know what to do." Jareth had turned to you , pulling you into a hug, looking at Thorin, with a devilish grin. Only if you had know what he had put into Thorins head.

Really he just said, "I will turn you into pie for my Goblins, if you hurt my y/n." That was it, he was gone, you had been hugging air for a good second, before turning back to the group of men , who just stared at you.

"Uh? What?"   Bofur, Kili and Fili exchanged looks of agreement.

"You and that strange man, yep, that definitely happened."    The smirk inlaced into Kili's voice, as he stared at ,waiting for a response. You had only scoffed at " I'll call him back, and you ask him, I'm sure you'd him to make you into a pie for his Goblins." In that moment, Thorin had realised that Jareth, wasn't just a thin stick, he clearly had fed someone to his Goblins before, Thorin didn't want to find out if that was true.

Thus, the subject was dropped, and that was it,though the other dwarves wanted to know what just happened, and Gandalf didn't give a shit or already knew.

Well that was it until you had all left Rivendell , clean for now, only to get captured by Goblins.

No way were they anything like the unwanted children, absolutely. Stuck next to Thorin, you stuck out being human, wishing you had stumbled onto the actual Goblin king. Thorin had pulled you down and shielded you from the whips.

You could only wish... but you didn't Gandalf saved you all again.

Back on the road again, until Thorin gets chewed up by a warg, you rushing towards him, as the dwarves fought off the wargs and orcs. Only for the eagles to arrive , seeing an eagle fly at you and Thorin, you had laid careful onto him. The eagle swooping you both up . "Hey Thorin, are you alive? maybe I can use those thighs a scarf sometime?"

Thorin did not wake up, until Gandalf had done some magic shit, him and Bilbo became best friends. 

Then you were all captured...again, by the worst kind of elves. Dumb blonds, no, Thranduil was just a dick. All of you were stripped down to one layer , all but Thorin  and you , were shoved into cells. You was asked the general question, why are you travelling with dwarves, well actually that was it.

You had pretended to faint.  When Thranduil stood over your head to see your face, you had pretended to wake up, punching him right in the dick. "O-oh my I-"

"Take them away!" Thorin was surprised you were not executed on the spot, oh how he tried to hide his laughter, as the elven knelt in agony ,and you were both dragged away. Shoved into a cage today, before the elves stomped away. Of course , Balin asks Thorin what happened, instead of telling him what you had done, he had simply said about him shouting in Khuzdul.

" Hey, are you coming to my execution tomorrow? I wonder if my last words should be 'being an elf there's only one down fall, once you get to Thranduils age, your cock shrivels up ," Thorin had snorted , and that is when he saw it, your hair...looked like radagasts hair ,but without poop and birds.

Thorins eyes had stared too long, it was clear to you, you were just talking to him, of course you'd see him staring. Your hair. Well yes that was embarrassing, a king was literally making fun of your hair by his silent judging.

"You're judging my hair? Did you not see radagasts?" Thorin had snapped out of this stare, realising what he had been doing, a light blush upon his face. "You are right, " that's he had said, and went back to looking at your hair.

Sighing you had sat on the cold stone, let again breaking Thorins stare. "Are you going to do my hair or just stand there?"

"Are you sure?" Accepting his offer Thorin was quickly sat behind you, combing your hair, of course you didn't know about dwarvish customs. You didn't know you had just accepted his courtship,but you had.

It wasn't long before your hair was braided completely , and just as you had stood up Ori had spoken up. Though you didn't here what he had said but you had heard Bilbo. "Not in here your not." A jingle of the keys and you were free, well lead to the cellars while the others questioned Bilbo.

Soon enough well when Thorin had convinced the dwarves to get in the barrels, via Bilbos request, leaving just you and Bilbo out. Until  Thorin had gestured you over, helping you inside the Barrel, but you stuck out more than the others,you wondered why Bilbo didn't get in one with one of the other dwarves. You barely in the barrel when Bilbo had pulled the lever,gripping onto Thorins shoulders as you were both submerged for a spilt second. Thus, you were off , trying to escape the elves , squished against the dwarven king, that you had unknowingly courted.

Kili was shot, and Bombur did some extreme parkour, and boom you had reached land. Soaking, freezing, lucky your hair was all braided back,  thanks Thorin. Stopping to allow Kili's leg to be wrapped up , to prevent further blood loss.

Dwalin had almost give you a heart attack ,as you stood twisting the water out of your clothing.  "Who did you hair ,lass?" He had basically popped up beside you , inspecting your braids , his voice louder and powerful.

Looking at the dwarf, who looked right back waiting for your answer , already knowing the answer.  "Thorin did, why?" Dwalin only hummed before returning to his brother, him surprisingly whispering to his brother, Fili and Kili had looked at each other in disgust.   Even though Kili was supposedly in pain.

"Do that again and you're dead."  Snapping your head up, to the unfamiliar voice..was that orlando bloom? A human, a man with shaggy dark hair, worn out clothes , beautifully structured face. Boom, you had been able to board passage on his barge.

"Why is a woman travelling with 13 dwarves and a hobbit?"  You had coughed, turning around to face Bard, you weren't very sure what you was supposed to say. "Well, um-" " She's travelling with us because she's betrothed to uncle."    Fili had spoken up, saving you from revealing everything, still you had turned to Fili, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Fili and Kili smirked.

"You are courting a dwarf?" Thorin had scoffed, as Bard kept his eyes on the lake, his tone was almost unimpressed. "Well, I almost fucked a fae s-" "y-y/n! That's not a-appropriate." Bilbo had choked out, without a thought.

"Come on, Gaggins, did you not see the pants he wore? His magic-"

"Enough." Thorin had interrupted you sharply, snapping your head towards the clearly annoyed King, walking over to him, punching his cheek. "Awwe, jealous of Jareth? You have a lot to live up to. Does your dick grow even after erecttion? I call it his magic c-"

" Hold on." Bilbo had pointed his pipe at you, staring at you, " How do you know that?" Bilbo had coughed again , with his cheeks red trying not to cry. "Don't tell him, maybe I held eye contact with not his eyes many times without him noticing , plus I asked him if he could grow tall as a house, and he said yeah, so I just assumed. I swear 100% I never walked in -"

"Hello, love."  You had jumped out of your skin, turning around, there stood Jareth, your face flushed red, shoving him gently. "Oh- , not nice Jareth, could've died from shock."  Jareth only ignored you, looking at your hair, his hand skimming over it , in interest.

"I heard you speaking of my cock, y/n/n, I'm flattered, but with those braids , I'm afraid you are no position to be making advances on me."  Lips slightly touching your eyes, as the vibrations of his whisper sent chills down your neck. “Well, what position do you want me in?” Pressing your back right against Jareths, his hot breath heightened onto your jeck. Thorin was fuming with anger, the dwarves didn’t know what to make of the situation.

“Y-y/n, enough do you not know what you have agreed to by those plaits?”

You had turned quickly pulling  Jareth away from the dwarves, well as far you could get anyways. "W-what are you talking about? What about the plaits?" Jareth had laughed loudly, getting the attention of the the dwarves , as you reached up to touch the braids.

"Oh, love, you don't know. Those plaits especially when done by a dwarf , signifies courtship, you have accepted." Eyes widened at the king, as he smirked at you, laughing lightly.

"What do I do? I am courting a king, I mean it’s not like I don’t like him , it’s j-“

“You are just being dramatic, you both share affections for each other, so what’s the problem? You know what to do if you need me.”poof he was gone, again.

So you had made your way over to Thorin, pulling him to his feet by his tunic, his eyes wide, as you pressed your lips to his harshly. His hands making their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him, kissing you back.

Your hands now under his jaw, the company well, they were as you could expect...cheering loudly. Pulling away from his lips, still in his hold , as you looked into his bright blue eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That consenting you to braid my hair , meant that I accepted your courtship? I would’ve anyways, but I had to find out from Jareth, I thought that was just a ruse to explain why I was travelling with a bunch of dwarves.”

“Sorry, thought you knew.”

“You hear that Lads, she thought he braided her hair out of the kindness of his heart.” Company had burst into mocking laughter, but you and Thorin had ignored it.

“Well, if we are going to get married, I need the goblin king as our wedding singer.”

“Goblin king?”

“What? You didn’t know, Jareth is the goblin king. Not that wart of a goblin, “

Thorin had only stared at you.

“No, you can’t kill him, his dick would come off and fuck you in the ass.”

“I’m sorry, who’s dick would what?” Bilbo had popped up , with disgust and confusion upon his face.

[gayenerd]

I just realized I didn’t post that 2007 Rolling Stone article I posted about here. 

Billie Joe Armstrong

The Green Day leader talks Bush, Britney and being a middle-aged punk for our 40th anniversary.

DAVID FRICKE

Posted Nov 01, 2007 8:19 AM

You have two young sons. What kind of America will they inherit?

This war has to finish before something new blossoms. There's no draft — that's why none of the kids give a shit. They'd rather watch videos on YouTube. It's hard to tell what's next — there is so much information out there with no power to it. Everything is in transition, including our government. Next year, it's someone else in the White House. There's no way to define anything. It's Generation Zero. But you gotta start at zero to get to something.

Is there anyone now running for president who gives you hope for the future?

Barack Obama, but it's a bit early to tell if this is the guy I like. I get sick of the religious-figure thing. People don't question their rulers, these political figures, just as they don't question their ministers and priests. They're not going to question George Bush, especially if he goes around talking about God — "I'm going to let God decide this for me. He's going to give me the answer." The fear of God keeps people silent.

When did you first vote in a presidential election?

In 1992. I was twenty. I voted for Clinton.

Did you feel like you made a difference?

Yeah. The Eighties sucked. There was so much bullshit that went along with that decade. I felt like Clinton was a fresh face with fresh ideas. There were times when he was dropping bombs, and I'm thinking, "What the fuck are you doing?" But he became a target. We have this puritanical vision of what a leader is supposed to be, and that's what makes us the biggest hypocrites in the world. We got so inside this guy's sexual habits. Now we have a president going around, killing in the name of what? In the name of nothing.

What did you accomplish with your 2004 anti-Bush album, "American Idiot"? He was re-elected anyway, and the war in Iraq is still going on.

I found a voice. There may have been people disenfranchised by it. People have a hard time with that kind of writing: "Why are you preaching to me?" It does sound preachy, a bit. I'm a musician, and I want to say positive things. If it's about self-indulgent depression or overthrowing the government, it's gotta come from my heart. And when you say "Fuck George W. Bush" in a packed arena in Texas, that's an accomplishment, because you're saying it to the unconverted.

Do you think selling nearly 6 million copies of that album might have an effect on the 2008 election? A kid who bought it at fifteen will be voting age next year.

I hope so. I made it to give people a reason to think for themselves. It was supposed to be a catalyst. Maybe that's one reason why it's difficult for me to write about politics now. A lot of things on that record are still relevant. It's like we have this monarchy in politics — the passing of the baton between the Clintons and the Bushes. That's frightening. What needs to happen is a complete change, a person coming from the outside with a new perspective on all the fucked-up problems we have.

How would you describe the state of pop culture?

People want blood. They want to see other people thrown to the lions. Do audiences want rock stars? I can't tell. You have information coming at you from so many areas — YouTube, the Internet, tabloids. Watching Britney Spears the other night [on the MTV Video Music Awards] was like watching a public execution. How could the people at MTV, the people around her, not know this girl was fucked up? People came in expecting a train wreck, and they got more than they bargained for.

She was a willing conspirator. She didn't say no.

She is a manufactured child. She has come up through this Disney perspective, thinking that all life is about is to be the most ridiculous star you could be. But it's also about what we look at as entertainment — watching somebody go through that.

How do you decide what your children can see on TV or the Internet? As a dad, even a punk-rock dad, that can make you conservative in your choices.

I want to protect them from garbage. It's not necessarily the sex and drugs. It's bad drugs and bad sex, the violence you see on television and in the news. I want to protect them from being desensitized. I want them to realize this is real life, not a video game.

The main thing I want them to have is a good education, because that's something I never had. Get smart. Educate yourself as much as you can, and get as much out of it, even if the teacher is an asshole.

Do you regret dropping out of high school?

Life in high school sucks. I bucked the system. I also got lucky. My wife has a degree in sociology, and there are conversations she has — I don't have a fucking clue what they're talking about. College — I could have learned from that.

But I was the last of six kids. At that point, my mother was fifty-eight, and she threw up her hands — "I'm through with this parenting thing." Also, I could not handle authority figures. But I wouldn't say I'm an authority figure for my kids. I provide guidelines, not rules.

What is it like being a middle-aged punk? Isn't that a contradiction in terms?

It's about the energy you bring with you, the pulse inside your head. I want to get older. I don't want to be twenty-one again. Screw that. My twenties were a difficult time — where my band was at, getting married, having a child. I remember walking out of a gig in Chicago, past these screaming kids. There were these punks, real ones, sitting outside our tour bus. One girl had a forty-ouncer, and she goes, "Billie Joe, come drink with us." I said, "I can't, I've got my family on the bus." She goes, "Well, fuck you then." I get on the bus, and my wife says, "Did that bitch just tell you to fuck off? I'm gonna kick her ass right now." I'm holding her back, while my child is naked, jumping on the couch: "Hi, Daddy!" That was my whole life right there — screaming kids, punks telling me to fuck off, my wife getting pissed, my naked son waiting to get into his pajamas.

There's nothing wrong with being twenty-one. It's the lessons you learn. At thirty, you think, "Why did I worry so much about this shit?" When I hit forty, I'll say the same thing: "Why did I worry about this shit in my thirties?"

What have you learned about yourself?

There is more to life than trying to find your way through self-destruction or throwing yourself into the fire all the time. Nihilism in punk rock can be a cliché. I need to give myself more room to breathe, to allow my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.

Before Dookie, I wasn't married and I didn't have kids. I had a guitar, a bag of clothes and a four-track recorder. There are ways you don't want to change. You don't want to lose your spark. But I need silence more than I did before. I need to get away from the static and noise, whereas before, I thrived on it.

Are you ready for the end of the music business? The technology and its effect on sales have changed dramatically since Green Days' debut EP — on vinyl — in 1989.

Technology now and the way people put out records — everything comes at you so fast, you don't know what you're investigating. You can't identify with it — at least I can't. With American Idiot, we made a conscious effort to give people an experience they could remember for the rest of their lives. It wasn't just the content. It was the artwork, the three acts — the way you could read it all like someone's story.

Is music simply not important to young people now the way it was to you as a kid?

People get addicted to garbage they don't need. At shows, they gotta talk on their phones to their friend who's in the next aisle. I was watching this documentary on Jeff Tweedy of Wilco [Sunken Treasure]. He was playing acoustic, and he ends up screaming at the audience: "Your fucking conversation can wait. I'm up here singing a song — get involved." He wasn't being an asshole. He was like, "Leave your bullshit behind. Let's celebrate what's happening now."

We need music, and we need it good. I took it very seriously. There's a side of me where music will always send chills up my spine, make me cry, make me want to get up and do Pete Townshend windmills. In a lot of ways, I was in a minority when I was young. There are people who go, "Oh, that's a snappy tune." I listen to it and go, "That's the greatest fucking song ever. That is the song I want played at my funeral."

Now that you've brought it up, what song do you want played at your funeral?

It keeps changing. "Life on Mars?" by David Bowie. "In My Life," by the Beatles. "Love," by John Lennon.

Those are all reflective ballads, not punk.

I disagree. They are all honest in their reflection. The punk bands I liked were the ones who didn't fall into clichés — the Clash, the Ramones. The Ramones wrote beautiful love songs. They also invented punk rock. I'd have to add "Blitzkrieg Bop" to the list.

What is the future of punk rock? Will it still be a voice of rebellion in twenty years?

It's categorized in so many different ways. You've got the MySpace punks. But there is always the subculture of it — the rats in the walls, pounding the pavement and booking their own live shows. It comes down to the people who are willing to do something different from everybody else.

You are in a different, platinum-album world now. What makes you so sure that spirit survives?

I'm going on faith — because I was there. Gilman Street [the Berkeley, California, club where Green Day played early shows] is still around. And that's a hard task, because there is no bar — it's a nonprofit cooperative. It's like a commune — this feeling of bucking the system together, surviving and thriving on art. Punk, as an underground, pushes for the generation gap. As soon as you're twenty-five years old, there's a group of sixteen-year-olds coming to kick your ass. And you have to pass the torch on. It's a trip to have seen it happen so many times. It gives me goose bumps — punk is something that survives on its own.

[vmfx]

WE DON’T DO THAT HERE.

I just disclosed to all of my co-workers that I have a radio show. They all seem very enthusiastic and extremely positive about it. For that I am very lucky because every day I work with them they usually have nothing good to say. They are the 17 to 25 crowd running on alcoholic fumes, weekend bars, Androids, Yankee games, hanging with “the guys”, and typical basic girls. So it comes as no surprise as to what their mentality is.

When I say they’re enthusiastic, I mean that they light up. They light up with an obvious hard-on because at first they think I’m on a big-name radio station and I play the hottest in Top 40 and pop. “It’s not like that. I dee-jay for a college station” I tell them. But that’s OK. They still think it’s awesome that I play music over the air and emanate their rooms, car stereos, and laptops. Then come the same questions I get asked every week because either someone new discovers what I do or they easily forget and we needlessly re-start the same conversation all over again. Or they’re trolling.

“What time do you go on?” “What music do you play?” “Are you on every week?” “Where is the radio station you DJ at?” “Do you go on the mic and talk?” “How long are you on for?” “Do you take requests?” “Do you do shout-outs?” These are valueless questions I normally don’t answer to because I can’t be bothered with them; questions asked in an obvious kindergarten fascination that I rather not waste my time with and would rather move on without having to focus on such intellectual mediocrity. In fact, the answers to all of these questions can be answered by simply listening to my show. There.

One of my co-workers decides he wants to be funny and impress his friends. He asks me if I ever do my “radio” voice on the air, and then proceeds give it his best attempt at it:

“This…is…Dee Jay _______…on 107.5…FM…WQXZ, New York! Playing…the…hottest hits. Ten. In a row. Non-stop!”

Heads up to no one in particular: it’s nice for people and friends to approach me and be interested in what I do, and I appreciate it. I really do. And then there are those who are into it but then proceed to define me by impersonating their best stereotypical zesty action-packed radio voice, complete with man-made astro-blaster laser sound effects from an action-figure maturity.

Please stop. It’s not funny, you’re not funny, and no one is laughing. That’s not what happens on my show. All I do is play music and be myself as usual. That’s all. It’s not WBLI, Z100, or Now FM if that’s what you were thinking. And since it’s not right to try and define who you think I am to satisfy your piss-poor expectations, I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I defined your life by pointing out your poor choice of clothing, your lack of real understanding, your never-ending stupidity, why your parents still make your bed, or why you have been dateless all your life.

Another pointless obstacle course I had to go through was that another co-worker tried guessing what music I play on my show in the form of a yes-or-no question-and-answer session. My previous answer of “a lot of music you wouldn’t like or tolerate” and “anything that’s not mainstream” wasn’t good enough for him to comprehend to avoid this altogether. So our little elfin pretend game-show host, who is 23 but looks like he is 11, plays this game with me.

“Now, I’m going to tell you an artist or band name and you tell me if you would play it. Ready?”

“Sure.” I say with some hesitation and an exasperated breath, knowing exactly how this is going to go. Lord help me.

“Metallica.”

“No.”

“Bon Jovi.”

“No.”

“Kid Cudi?”

“No.”

“Whitney Houston?”

“No.”

“Justin Beiber?”

“No.”

“Ozzy?”

“No.”

“Taylor Swift?”

“No.”

“Adele?”

“No.”

“Drake?”

“No.”

“David Bowie?”

“Hmmm…”

“Ahhh! There’s a maybe! “Linkin Park?”

“Stop.”

“Chris Brown?”

“Stop?”

“Rick Astley?”

“NO. Stop.”

This was what I went through a couple of days ago. He was fully aware what I play on-air not only because I told him before but also I sent him the link to my show. But when you’re the department comedian, you need to depend on your co-workers for everyone’s amusement. So you blow right through convenience and force uncomfortable interactions for laughs at someone’s expense. He instead ended up giving me a list of artists I wouldn’t dare touch or even infect our studio’s CD drives, turntables, or computers with. And he knows this.

**********

My show states what I play: “punk, hardcore, female, grrl, electronics, hip-hop, hipster, trendy, art, industrial, breakbeats, experimental, techno, spoken word, rare Seventies, drum and bass, reggae, lo-fi, and even noise”. It also says “no Top 40, no Billboard, no pop, no American Idol, no Nielsen Ratings, no Clear Channel.” Why would I waste my time playing artists that are already being played ad nauseum on pop stations, car commercials, malls, restaurants, movies, and soda ads millions of times over? And why would I have to explain myself to people who clearly don’t deserve it?

It’s simple. On my show I play everything other stations and outlets won’t. Being it’s a college radio station, we don’t get money from corporate sponsors but instead grass-roots community members, students, administration, and other people listening in around the world to donate money to us. That means we are not told what to play, rather we play whatever we want, artists who otherwise have almost zero chance of getting airplay. I can actually educate my listeners by playing Merzbow, Einsturzende Neubauten, Sonic Youth, or Aphex Twin instead of brainwashing them. So, why would I waste valuable airtime on artists who already have endless amounts of it?

Another thing: requests. I don’t ask for them and I won’t play them. Why would I jeopardize the show’s good looks if someone asks me to play Nickelback when I play music like Crystal Castles, Cold Cave, The Dead Boys, and Death Grips? Where does some sappy commercial band that millions of people have on their death list have its place on my show? I want my listeners to enjoy my show and support me, not blacklist it and send me death threats.

Even more ridiculous are the dedications. Please. I prevent this from happening. I don’t want my show responsible for some trailer-park love-in somewhere in Alabama which produces five awkward results. Having me to say their subtle Valentine’s messages on-air with “cute” pet names is not cute at all. It makes my show turn into the Ryan Seacrest Hour. When that happens, I’ll fold this show and deny it ever existed.

Yes, I do understand that artists eat and need to keep on going to make a living. Once in a while I get unsolicited messages from bands that have absolutely nothing to do with the music I play. Just pass “GO” and collect your $200. Just because I play “everything” doesn’t mean I will since there are specifics. Even worse, a Dave Matthews’ cover band somewhere in the middle of Long Island, that aspires to be something else they’ll never be and tries to ride (no, suck it like a leach) the wave of popularity by holding actual music instruments while being incapable of writing original material will never make the cut. On another note…

“Check us out! We’re a four-piece homegrown funk-soul-band from somewhere in New Jersey and we’ve been compared to 311 and Smashmouth…”

...and that is where I hit the delete button. I don’t like it when music comes to me, I like it when I come to music unless I ask for it. I don’t like to feel obligated in having to play your music or worse having it forced down my throat Linda Lovelace-style. I don’t want your obsolete already-done jam-funk music and double that if it’s from the late 90’s (because who here thinks the late 90’s was the worst time for new music ever?) I don’t ever want your low-resolution color-copy pixilated artwork with your homemade CD-R with paper decal. In fact, why am I still on MySpace? That was so 2006.

**********

It’s been a month since the start of my on-going show and my co-workers are getting very tiresome. The same questions over and over again and not once has anyone tuned in. Not that I don’t want them to tune in or even care if they listen, but what’s the point in wasting time if people who are interested in something don’t do it? That’s why I decided to no longer talk to them about my show. I’m only wasting my breath, time, and energy. You can’t declare to do something and not do it. That’s how people take points away from you.

And as always, the instant I declare that I will no longer bother in discussing my show anymore, another moron standing right next to me starts asking questions again. “What is your show called?” “What time is it on?” “What number is it?” Perhaps it is best not to have certain people listening in. Even better, it’s best not to converse with them.

[phoebewallerbrigde]

All For Us, (a Reddie x Euphoria HBO) fanfiction

"It was the end of summer, back-to-school was coming up, I had no intention of staying clean and Richie Trashmouth Tozier was back in Derry." 

Without any filter but with humor and franchise, here's the harsh coming of age story of Derry's youth through the eyes of Eddie Kaspbrak, 17, fresh out of rehab.

read it on AO3 || Explicit || 8k || 1/?

Hope you like it guys !

There was a time in my life where everything was fine, but that, that was before I was ripped out of my mother’s womb. Since then, it’s been shit.

Chapter 1 : Screwed.

I was born on September 3rd, 2002 in a world post 9/11 completely overwhelmed by the mourning and the duty of memory. It has been four months since Sam Raimi's Spiderman was at the top of the world box office and that Peter Parker had managed to give hope to America and New York. Far from everything and from New York, there was my mother and my father, and I was their Spiderman. Nice, huh? I don’t think so.

---

My life begins without warning with a childhood in a big house in the depths of America's asshole. Derry, Maine. A small town so small that everyone knows each other and knows everything. That’s where the problems start. My father became ill when I was 9 years old and my overprotective mother was already beginning to fall into what I call "parental and marital abuse". Life at home was absolutely not great, especially because of my "not fitting" behavior.

"Eddie-bear, is everything okay?" asked Sonia Kaspbrak worried.

A 10-year-old Eddie was still staring at the front door counting seconds every time he heard the clock tick of the dining room.

"Eddie-bear, look at me." she added in a calm voice. "You did not even touch your .."

Eddie turned her head to Sonia and began to cry at once. Sonia and Frank looked at each other in amazement, feeling completely helpless.

They did what every healthy-minded parent would do, choosing to consult several doctors, a psychologist and a children's psychiatrist. I wasn't physically abused, I always drank at least a liter of water a day, my mother prepared me good dishes, my father did not hit me... 

"Your son has OCD, ADHD and anxiety. He has a higher brain activity than the average child for his age, probably due to hypersensitivity and perhaps also to behavioral disorders... But he’s still too young to tell."

The psychiatrist's voice left a blank in the room and Sonia Kaspbrak burst into tears. Frank stroked his wife's back for reassurance and Eddie turned to his mother without understanding what was happening.

So why do I have this?

---

"Neuroatypical, you are neuroatypical, Eddie-bear."

Eddie mimicked his mother while eating his cereal bowl, she glanced him, he stopped and sighed.

"Show me your phone, I'll check your alarms."

An 11-year-old Eddie contemplated the capsules, pills and other medications that his mother was carefully distributing in each compartment of his medicine box. He handed him his yellow iPhone 5c that he had already unlocked on the alarms page.

"You have to take all your medicine, at the times indicated."

"I know, Ma."

Sonia looked at her son, who continued to eat with a peeved look on his face. She sat down beside him, putting down his cellphone and the box of compartmentalized tablets.

"You know ... there are lots of famous people like you - famous people, super creative and smart." She managed to catch Eddie's attention and then continued. "Look, your favorite actor who plays in The Truman Show for example."

"Jim Carrey?" 

"Yes!" exclaimed Sonia with a smile.

Yeah, and we all remember Jim Carrey during the 00s New Year Eve on David Letterman's set.

"A genius." ended Eddie with a smile before getting up and packing his box in his fanny pack.

I don’t really remember my pre-adolescence and all that time when I was 10 to 12. I mean, I remember my friends, how meaningless life was, how fast everything was falling apart for us because of daddy’s pneumonia, and how the world was going way too fast for my brain. And that sometimes, if I happened to think too much about everything, to concentrate too much on an smell or on the number of germs present under the table on which I wrote or on the strange way that I breathed ... I had a violent asthma attack. The space of a moment. But very quickly the space of a moment became all the time and all the time became a fight to fight these crises. And frankly...

"So this day, son?" Frank asked with a smile as Eddie walked into his room still dressed with his backpack.

He could hear his father listen to Queen and David Bowie's Under Pressure, one of his favorite songs who became one of his. That made him sketch a small smile.

"I'm fucking done with it."

--- 

I’m not necessarily proud of the choices I’ve made, but it wasn’t really like my mom didn’t push me. The house was full of meds. Meds here, meds there, meds in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the guest room, in the garage. My mother ordered meds profusely but gave me "gazebos" when I was perhaps the one who needed treatment the most. A treatment, I needed a treatment. I got it. It was there in front of me, everywhere, I knew every name and every dose of what the psychiatrist was giving me, it was not hard to remember, so I took it. I took but nothing. I did not feel any difference, the asthma attacks, the tremors, the sadness were still there. I took again and again and always more. When I went to the doctors, they increased the doses and I changed my mother's gazebos with my real meds. It made me feel something in the end, but it was too late, I was already addicted. But after all, is it really my fault? Oh, and I think we say "placebos".

12 years old and already on medication dependence. 13 years old and I stole my father’s morphine and other painkillers. 14 years old and I was asking for more with my psychotropics. 15 years old, I took my 1st taz and smoked my first joint. 16 years old and I sniffed my first rail, the first among others. That's why Georgie Denbrough found me unconscious in my own vomit. I had become a junkie ? I don’t know. I just liked the feeling. The feeling that it gave me, the nothingness. For once on earth, for as long as I can remember, I felt something new every time. It was this need that had led Georgie to scream with fear, which alerted Bill Denbrough to run to discover the disaster and tell him to look for my mother as he tried to wake me up. Poor Big Bill, he thought I was dead. I believed it, too.

I spent the whole summer in rehab after that, I never understood why. Well, I did but I didn’t think I was addicted to drugs. Drugs filled the gap that meds sometimes leave when it’s over. But I’ve learned that meds, too, are drugs.

"Eddie!"

"Georgie!"

Georgie ran into Eddie's arms, Eddie couldn’t help laughing and making remarks about how Georgie was almost ahead of him now. This made Bill laugh when he came to give him their secret handshake before taking the smallest in his arms.

"Hey!" whispered Eddie with a big smile.

Sonia in the distance watched her son squeeze the only two friends she had allowed to come with her to pick up Eddie, since they had been present and saved him with the accident. They ended up taking the road with them to their house. 

"I'm so happy you're back home, Eddie-darling, I missed you so much, never do that again, you gave me up for 3 long months, you realize, I could not to do nothing without you, I was so lonely and you know how much I hate it, never do that again, I made an appointment with the hospital for full exams and we will change you your doses, I will take good care of you my ... "

Eddie stopped paying attention to his mother, he looked around, Georgie and Bill cheerfully discussed everything Bill had planned to do to make up for lost time with Eddie. Not to mention the Losers, but Eddie figured out they were in. The brunette one landed on the windowsill and let the wind caress his face. He noticed in the distance a boy on a bicycle, this long and thin figure was telling him something. Brown curls, an alternative style between neglected but sought after, worn out converses, pale skin to death. Eddie’s eyes marveled at his sight when the car passed him. He felt his heartbeat accelerate and his heart pounding.

And that’s when the beginning of the end really began. It was the end of summer, back-to-school was coming up, I had no intention of staying clean and Richard Trashmouth Tozier was back in Derry. I had to talk to the one person who knew everything about everything.

---

"So ... How long have you been back among us? You have completely hidden your return." Mike asked, eating his salad.

"A week and I didn’t hide everything! I was in quarantine between the hospital and at home all week, thanks Ma. Bill didn’t tell you?" said Eddie watching Mike eat.

"Bill and I don’t really talk right now when we see each other. You know that."

Mike is probably the smartest person I know, yet he still didn’t dare tell the love of his life that he loved him. At the same time, he was living on a planet other than ours and didn’t really have time to be a normal high school student. It was easier to fuck Bill and continue to just be his bro than become his significant other. 

"Richie is back, by the way."

"Ah."

"Yup, he went to the farm and got a 50$ of weed. He didn’t even want me to give him a price."

"D'you know more?" "Hm... He’s already been here for two weeks. He seemed pretty happy to be back, California changes you a man." said Mike laughing what made Eddie smile. "We’ll see when we get back to school."

Eddie nodded at Mike.

"How are you feeling ?" Mike asked, carefully watching Eddie.

"Great since I gave my life to abstinence and I stopped jerking off." Eddie answered seriously.

"Oh ...... Cool, cool, cool, I'm really happy for you."

"Mike, I’m messing with you. You should see your face." Eddie laughed while Mike gave him a pat on the shoulder. " Anyway, that’s not all, but is your grandfather here, Vegemike?"

"Are you serious bro?"

"Hey, it's not because I'm doing a rehab that I'm going to stay clean."

"But.... Isn’t that the point of a rehab? I won’t let you do something stupid again."

"Come on, just weed."

"You do not like weed, Kaspbrak."

"Fine but can I at least have your cherry tomatoes?"

Mike nodded and smiled at his best friend who continued to eat his salad with him.

Something I missed this summer? My trips to the Hanlon farm. Mike being a divine cook and plus a vegan, obviously, his food was safe and harmless to me. And the Hanlon house was the best hostess for parties, it was big, rebuilt in recent years and far enough to be quiet. I must have missed a lot of parties, but if there was one coming up, Stanley Uris'. And if you thought I was gonna miss it, the last big party before school, so the most important one of the summer, you can suck my dick. That’s probably why that piece of shit of Henry Bowers brought his ass back to the farm. It’s a good thing the Hanlons were selling him their wares for twice as much.

"Yo, there you go! That’s his mama’s boy!" he cried as he entered the storefront. "I thought you were dead. Good, because my knife will be able to tate the ground."

"Go get your shit and get off him, dude."

"You’re lucky I haven’t touched you since you’re the best drug dealer in town, but don’t trust me, nig.."

Mike rose sharply and faced Bowers. His eyes were black and Bowers backed away.

"All right, all right, I’ll go."

I never liked Henry Bowers, and I truly believe no one has ever loved him. Even his father hates him. If you were looking for someone to identify as the rich cis hit white man in this city, it was him. He was "untouchable" or rather believed himself untouchable because his father was the most influential guy in the city. He had been sheriff but had ended up building his business and it had taken. It was quite unbelievable, however, now Bowers was living his best life and did not think he had to be accountable to anyone when he still had a mullet cut in 2019 and that he should clearly shut up the fuck up. Before, he harassed me as well as the rest of the Losers club, for my part I was entitled to homophobic insults in profusion. But one day we humiliated him front of his friends. Since then he has left us alone and yesterday’s nerds his become today’s popular. Karma, as they say.

 ---

It was about to get dark in a few hours, a young man was cycling in the streets of Derry. He was tall, fine and handsome. A car passed by him and he was destabilized.

"Back among us, motherfucker, this is my secret sauce as a welcome gift, Tozier!"

Bowers' voice was loud and Hockstetter's laugh had not failed him. Richie had managed to avoid the milkshake he had sent him. He gave him fingers as he went away and Richie sighed on his way home. He passed by the kitchen and dropped off his racing bag and went to his room where he threw himself into his bed. He took out his phone and went straight to Grindr. Richie was scrolling, watching nudes, messages, chatting with people, going from Grindr to Tinder, and finally finding happiness. For tonight, anyway, then took a nap.

If there was anyone that nobody expected to see again in Derry, it was Richie fucking  Tozier. He told me he was back from his parents' divorce. His father had kept the old family house in which he lived in Derry. Something must have happened with his mother in California because Richie preferred to come and live with his father in our good ol' Derry, but he refused to tell me what happened. That Tozier really is a moron.

Richie awoke. It was already 7 pm. He sighed, got up, went downstairs to eat with his father who had prepared some homemade pizzas and then went back to his room. It was 8 pm. He got motivated, launched his "Party times" playlist which debuted on Plus Putes Que Toutes Les Putes from the French band Orties. He took a shower and picked out an outfit. When he found the right one, he couldn’t help but smile. A black wide sweater with a yellow stripe in the middle and "The villa hopes" written on it, simple black slim jeans, red socks and its Converses x 70 x OFF Springs Velour Patchwork. He rolled up his sleeves, made himself up by putting on black, blue, yellow and red eyeliner to make an editiorial makeup, nothing too dramatic. He was dancing in front of his mirror and laughing. He passed his hands several times without his brown curls, put big silver rings on his fingers and finally put on his necklaces including his favorite, the one with a red balloon pendant. He took his Lacoste fanny pack and while looking at it, he had a little smile thinking of the one person who had never stopped wearing these before it became trendy again. He went down the stairs and fell on his father.

"Oh, look at yourself ! So, where are you going?" asked Wenthworth Tozier while observing his son.

Richie arrived in front of his father after crossing the living room. They lived in a beautiful house, quite luxurious from the outside as well as the inside. Richie hugged his father to reassure him.

"To a party, with friends."

"Friends ?"

"Yes, my old friends, dad."

Wenthworth nodded and Richie waved his hand with his index finger and middle finger at his temple before moving them away.

"Watch out, have fun and protect yourself, Rich!"

Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Tozier, Richie was sure to protect himself properly with those Saint Laurent condoms in his bag.

Richie smiled at his father before taking his bike and leaving.

Richie did not want his return to make too much noise. Yet it was all the opposite effect. Everyone who had lived in Derry between 2002 and 2016, so everyone, knew Richie Trashmouth Tozier. The first to know about Richie's return was Ben. Simply because the two were following the same two-week artistic summer course that the school had organized. It was a little stupid because Richie was a little genius despite appearances and Ben was just good at everything without having to force. At least Ben had been able to reconnect with Richie and pass the information to the rest of Losers, but except me, of course.

When he arrived in front of a hotel in the city, he smiled at the message of the chosen one and sent a message to Ben.

[Forget me for tonight, I have a date.]

Ben glanced at his phone, and then at Beverly. Both exchanged suspicious looks.

"What’s going on?" Beverly asked.

"It’s Richie. He says he’s not coming tonight."

"What did you told him?" Beverly looked at herself in the mirror.

"Nothing! He’s just gonna do his little business with someone."

"Oh okay, chill, he’ll come later. Why you scare us like that!" replied Beverly getting close to Ben to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Ben went red in action and Betty Ripsom made a disgusting sound. Beverly stopped to look at the brunette, she had completely forgotten her presence. After all, it was her who'll dropped them off at Stanley’s. "Stop. You’ll do the same thing tonight and even more," she said looking at her.

In case you're wondering, yes, Ben is in love with Bev. For far too long for me to remember. For Bev, however, nobody really knows. Bev is a mystery to everyone, I still wonder why she's friends with us. She's a cheerleader, she's so popular, much more than Mike or Bill or Stan. She has a reputation behind her, yet it has never stopped her from being the baddest bitch in town. A real rolemodel to the twink that I am. Perhaps the most amazing thing is that she was fake dated for a month with Bowers just for a bet and it lasted until today, well, until two days ago. She still made 200 dollars on it every month.

"You slept with Bowers, you do not have the right to speak." Betty retorted.

"A hand job. It was a hand job and it happened once during the 3 months of the bet. Then anyway, Bowers is a clown. It’s not Penny Wise who’s gonna say otherwise. I was able to take away as much as I could before I dumped him. And tonight, we move on." she said, turning to Ben.

"Yes, that’s what everyone wants to hear! Shit Ben, tonight you have to fuck! Not just a handjob or a blowjob! It’s not the '80s anymore, you have to catch some pussy."

Ben smiled slightly embarrassed and turned to Beverly who grinned while listening to Betty. He totally ignored Betty’s words, then lowered his head, a little disappointed. He really wanted to disappear underground at this very moment.

In his place, I’d like to, too. Thank you, Betty.

 ---

"Ma ? I’m leaving."

"Where, Eddie-bear? And so late? You can’t leave me like this." Sonia said as her son came into the living room. "And dressed like that? You look like a bad boy, I don’t like it."

"That’s my usual style, Ma. It’s only 10 pm and I’m going to Bill’s. Don’t wait for me and don’t panic. And yes, I took my medicine with me and my insulin just in case. See you, Ma."

A 16-year-old Eddie closed the front door and leaned back against it, looking down the street and sighing. He was divinely handsome, he had combed his hair, put glitter on his eyes and mascara which gave him an even more intense look. He had put on a silk shirt with patterns like the rich women's scarves, the colors were soft and pastel like salmon, beige, yellow or baby blue but it contrasted with his lame bomber and his slightly tanned and brilliant skin. With that, he had put some necklaces and he also let see his chest. He was wearing his white low converses and black skinny ripped jeans. He took a puff from his inhaler and looked at his bike lying on the ground. He turned his head away and began to walk. He took out his airpods and launched one of his Daily Mix on Spotify, he closed his eyes at Alphaville's Forever Young.

It is never easy to leave this house with a mother as unbearable as mine. In fact, I lied. I’m not going to go to Bill’s, it would be too much of a detour. We’ll meet at the party. I preferred to walk because when I drink, I don’t take the road because...

All the times he passed out, in the middle of the road completely drunk, kept coming to his mind as a nightmare.

You got it, anyway. I know, you're surprised that I drink, but alcohol is pretty much the same as my meds. Except for beer, I hate beer.

Eddie was quietly walking around, dancing, listening to Rubberband Man from the Spinners, and clearly living his best life. When a noisy car because of the music made itself heard more and more as it passed by. The passengers listened to Dang! of Mac Miller and that made Eddie smile, he loved Mac Miller.

"Oh my god, stop the car." exclaimed Beverly. "I said stop the car, Betty."

"Why ?" Betty asked, slowing down.

"We just passed Eddie Kaspbrak!" said Ben looking in through the back window.

"Oh my God! I think he was dead." Betty laughed.

"Shut up. You should be the one to die, Ripsom." Ben replied.

Eddie walked in front of them, not paying attention.

"Yo, the comeback!" yelled Beverly what pulled Eddie out of his music.

He turned to her and looked at her with a smile. She had a big smile and he leaned towards her.

"It’s good to see you again, we missed you." she said in all sincerity.

Ben nodded, which made Eddie smile, he almost had tears in his eyes. His best friends had not forgotten him.

"Are you being dropped somewhere?" Betty Ripsom asked.

"Well, thank you !"

Eddie waved to him and Ben opened the back door. He got into beautiful Betty's Volvo and Bev turned to him.

"What the hell are you listening to? Certainly not the New Kids On The Block." She said looking at Ben who shook his head negatively by squinting his eyes.

Eddie looked at his iPhone 8, Rubberband Man was finished, he pouted at the next song.

"London Calling." he answered hesitantly.

"Perfect."

The music started in the car, all four began to jam in the car while singing.

The party was already in full swing when I arrived with the others. Stan’s house was shining from the outside and eclipsing all the other houses, it was beautiful to see. From the inside, it looked like it was going to explode. In every room, chaos. A kind of stifling heat emanated as Megan Thee Stallion’s Hot Girl Summer filled the house. The minute Stan’s eyes crossed mine, he left Patricia for my arms. It was nice, it wasn’t every day that Staniel gave you a hug.

"Oh, fuck, Edward Kaspbrak himself, that's crazy, I .. I'm so happy to see you!" Stan shouted in his arms. Stan held him so tight that Eddie felt he was going to choke him. He must have been a little drunk. He was wearing a stretch short-sleeved shirt in washed jeans with black pants and chelsea boots. It was divine.

He had always been, it was Stan, he could afford it. He was smart, mature, funny, an excellent counselor, the mom of the group and he also organized the best parties in high school. How having money is really cool.

"Hey everyone! Look who’s back! To Eddie!" shouted Bev while lifting up her shot of tequila in the air.

The people present in the room did the same and repeated these two words at the same time. Bill raised his glass in my direction, he gave me a big smile and I was a little embarrassed. Everyone drank their glasses. Bev gave me a shot of tequila, everyone was looking at me now. It was weird. Being the center of attention is clearly not my stuff. But, I drank that shot and after that, everyone screamed for joy. Bev gave me a hug, then Mike just added himself to the hug, then Bill and then Stan. The Losers were together and I could clearly hear Billie Eilish’s Bellyache in my head.

---

The hotel was rather classy, the room too, thought Richie. He did not know that places like this existed in Derry. The chosen one was therefore fortunate. When he returned from a room that served as a kitchen with two glasses of champagne. Richie looked at him carefully, he liked to sleep with older men, but he never imagined that Butch Bowers was that kind of man.

Thank you." he said, looking at the man standing in front of him.

"Your face is familiar to me, have we ever seen each other?" Butch asked, looking at Richie.

Later, Riche told me that at the moment he wanted to say yes. He really should have done it.

"Not that I remember."

Butch nodded and drank his glass of champagne.

Richie had said he was 18, technically he was not lying, he was actually going to have them. The knowledge. And Richie was consenting.

Butch watched Richie.

"We will not fuck, you're too young."

Richie nodded, he avoided swallowing.

"I envy your generation, however. When I see you, I see two life choices."

He stroked Richie's cheek, then his lips with his thumb. Richie was looking at him almost religiously. There was a kind of tension in the room. They were not going to sleep together, but it was almost as if. In a parallel dimension, it was happening.

"You can leave, live an extremely beautiful life elsewhere, be fully yourself, find love, or you can stay here and end up like me, hanging out in fancy hotels." Butch continued looking at Richie's eyes.

"Both choices are possible." retorted Richie.

Butch's thumb sank into Richie's mouth.

"If only I could, I'd smash you." he said in a low voice.

Richie closed his eyes. He could not really say what he was looking for in this kind of completely barge plan. But there was so much he was looking for. One was definitely that special bond he had once bonded with a unique person in his life. When both made leave of this vocal flirtation, this visual fuck. Richie put California by Lana Del Rey in his ears. 

He looked at the door of the closed bathroom because the chosen one was taking a shower, he must have met someone before him and shoot his shot. Richie looked at his phone and left the room without making a noise. Once outside the hotel, he lit a cigarette. He took a few steps to his bike, when the song ended, the cigarette was too. He changed his song and went straight to Stan's house.

And there. The evening went fucking nuts.

The huge stairs in Stan's house were flooded and mobilized by people kissing, drinking or whatever. The music was in full swing, Eddie did not know the song, but he would have sworn it was one of the songs that Mike composed during his free time. He pushed people a bit to pass and went to the nearest toilet. He closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror before taking a breath of his ventoline. He kept looking in his bag with a tiny vial of white powder inside. There was almost nothing, but it did not matter because Eddie knew it was extremely strong. He spread it on a small spatula attached to his keychain which he had disinfected before and sniffed everything. He ran a hand through his hair and left the room. The sensations becoming stronger, his brain seemed to be reviving.

Blackbear’s Hot Girl Bummer burst into his ears. Suddenly, the world around him seemed to be totally out of sync with him. He almost lost his balance. Standing on the wall, clinging to people, Eddie laughed. The world revolved around him and he danced on the music that filled his brain.

All you need to know is that there are several versions of what happened tonight. It all depends on who tells you the story and... I’m not necessarily the most reliable narrator for this evening. But what I can assure you is that Bowers screwed up.

Bowers had been drinking since before with the party. He spent the night looking for Beverly and she wasn’t that hard to find she was in the Uris pool. Even wet, she was still the most beautiful girl of the party. She made a fairly simple make up. You’d think she had nothing if you didn’t know the basics of makeup. She was having fun with Betty and Audra Phillips, Bill’s ex, by doing a water fight and singing along on to Russ’s Do It Myself. And who knows why, Bowers as the fragile man that he is, wanted to break the moment.

"Slut!" he shouted as he reached the terrace.

He pointed to Beverly who turned to him.

"Yes ?" she replied, with a great deal of irony, a smile on her lips.

Everyone laughed and scolded Beverly's name. Bowers turned speechless. Beverly's smile widens.

"Well then, 2 minutes 30 lost his big mouth?" she said, coming out of the water and facing Bowers. "That is what I thought."

Everyone was watching the confrontation carefully. The first one since Beverly dumped Bowers and announced that it was all just a bet between her and Stan.

"Shut the fuck up, you only suck anyway."

"How could you know that since I would never suck you Henry Bowers? Now, please stop humiliating yourself in public. Go back to Greta Keene and forget about me, okay."

Bowers wanted to fight back but Beverly pushed him into the water and Georgie grabbed his leg to make it easier for him to fall. Everyone shouted and laughed. Stanley stood up and turned away from Mike, Bill and Eddie and apologized to see what was going on with Beverly.

"Really ?" He asked.

"You'll pay me Losers." he said as he stepped out of the pool and back inside.

Losers: 1. Bowers: 0. The school year is starting well.

Bill and Mike were laughing and Eddie smiled at Beverly.

It was at that moment that they concluded. The funny thing is that Bill, when he's alcoholic, totally loses his stuttering. So it was amazing to hear him speak clearly to Mike, especially when it was a rim job. I would have preferred not to be here to hear that. But I'm sure I heard a "I love you Mikey" so finally it was worth it.

"Everything's okay, bro?" asked Mike, noticing his presence again.

"Yeah.. Yeah, that’s fine... Glad to see you two are okay." he said, smiling and watching Bill blush.

At the same time, there was another one for whom things were going well. Ben Hanscom. Ben was playing truth or dare in one of the upstairs rooms with several of the Cheerios like Myra Stonehart or some of the guys from our class. Normally, truth or dare was the game we used to play when we were playing between us only, but here, it turned into a conversation about sex. And Ben Hanscom wasn’t a pro on the subject.

"What are you really virgin?" asked one of the guys in the discussion. "And do not say that a pipe, that counts."

"It counts." retorted Myra.

"You know nothing about it Myra. You're the one who wants to fuck Eddie Kaspbrak while everyone knows he's gay and clearly not interested."

Myra looked up at the skies with a grin.

"Who are you saving yourself for, man?" asked another one of the guys.

Beverly Marsh.

"No one. I’m just waiting for the right moment." Ben replied.

"Like, now’s not a good time?" asked another cheerleader. "If, I asked you to sleep with me tonight, what would you say?"

Ben blinked several times at Anna’s question and remained speechless.

Of course, Ben is an eternal romantic. He writes rose water's poems, appreciates courteous love stories and is much stronger when it comes to putting his thoughts on paper than saying it out loud. But, Ben Hanscom was definitely not a coward. He was just a virgin in a society where we wanted boys to breathe and eat porn all day long.

Anna leaned back to Ben.

"You’re super cute, Ben. You used to be before you started working out. In 5 years you’ll be a sex bomb and I want my cut now." she said in a rather serious tone.

The whole room was breathless, Anna was one of the sexiest girls in high school. Ben nodded softly and Anna smiled.

"Everybody clear this room now!"

---

While Ben surely lived what would be one of the most memorable evenings of his life. Richie Tozier had arrived at the party, and I was sprawled on that couch by the pool watching Mike and Bill be in love. Shit, I want what they have. At the same time, Beverly was playing in the pool with Audra and Betty, but you already know the rest.

"By the way, Eddie, you owe me 120 bucks." Mike said looking at his friend.

"Yeah, but I thought our friendship and the fact that I'm alive made up for that." Eddie replied.

"If you say so." Bill replied.

Stan came to join them.

"Frankly, Eddie, I missed you, we missed you all, it was not the same this summer without you, your drug stories make me feel bad."

"Aw Stan, don’t be sentimental."

"No, that’s not it. I love you, man, but... you really scared us." he said, taking a break before turning to Eddie.

Mike and Bill nodded in agreement with Stan.

"We thought you were dead. And seriously, Eddie, I’ve seen a lot of people die, but I would never agree to see you die for that. I’ve seen a lot of people die, but not people like you." Mike added. "I don’t know exactly what’s going on with your brain, but I can tell you one thing, drugs and getting high is not your solution."

A blank settled in between these four. He was not unpleasant, on the contrary. It was peaceful. They watched Beverly and Bowers fight.

"There’s one thing I remember... it happened when I was nine years old, shortly after my father was diagnosed. We were told that he was going to get better, I mean, that he had a chance of getting better. So, we celebrated it, we went to New York, seven hours back and forth. One of the best moments of my life. I told my dad that when I grew up, I would go to New York and live there."

Eddie’s voice started shaking and Stan gently shook his hand.

"Then we came home and I remember... that night, I slept with my parents and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. As if there was no oxygen in the world. My parents called the ambulance thinking I had a violent asthma attack. At the hospital, they gave me opium. Liquid. To calm me down and... then I thought, 'Okay, so that’s what I need'. Not mom’s medicine. That. Because all of a sudden, it was as if everything had become simpler. The noise, the voices in my head, everything was gone. Everything. Being in my head wasn’t a problem anymore. Four years later, he passed away and the asthma attacks that were actually anxiety and panic attacks continued. But that’s okay. I found a way to survive. I have you, guys. I have my psychiatrist. My medecine. Maybe it will kill me..."

Stan kissed Eddie's hand in support then got up and went to see the mess with Bev.

"Hey! Don’t say that!" yelled Bill slowly to Eddie before giving him a pat on his head.

"Touch me again in that ugly mustard buffalo shirt and I’ll kill you, Big Bill." Eddie laughed.

The three friends focused on the story of Bev and Bowers. Then Eddie stood up to give his best friends more privacy. Bowers had stormed into Stan’s apartment in the kitchen to get drunk. Blur’s Girls and Boys was in full swing throughout the house and the first thing Bowers did was not to drink, but to sweep a few bottles here and there with the back of his arm. Eddie and Stan followed Bowers wanting to throw him out of the party and Beverly Marsh had left the pool to annoy Mike and Bill that she had dragged inside after getting dressed.

"Get out of the kitchen!" screamed Bowers scaring everyone. " Get the fuck out."

The people around him backed back carefully to avoid getting a piece of glass, while watching Bowers lose it. Richie dug himself into a corner of the kitchen staring at Bowers totally destabilized by his behavior. Eddie, Stan, Mike, Bill and Bev entered the crowd.

"What's your fucking problem?" he said looking at Richie.

Richie looked at the sides and then looked at Bowers, he didn’t know what to say.

"Why are you here?" he says, moving forward and sticking to him. "Huh? You can't speak ? Aren't you Trashmouth Tozier for nothing?"

At the Trashmouth name agreement, Eddie’s attention got bigger. Shit, what is Richie doing here ?

"Can I know who invited you? You don’t even have any friends here. Everyone forgot you."

"Listen, uh. I don’t want any trouble, I just want to spend a chill night in my corner." Richie said, looking him in the eye.

He didn’t even blink.

"People like you are not here to stay in their corners. You are a problem here, you see, nobody answers. Nobody!" he shouted at Richie.

Richie grabbed the first kitchen knife and pointed it at Bowers, who backed away.

"You think you scare me? You think you scare me, Bowers? You know what we do to sons of cops like you in California?" yelled Richie in turn as he moved towards Bowers. "Back the fuck up!"

"I was fucking kidding. I was fucking kidding !"

"I’m not afraid of you, Bowers."

"W-put the knife down, okay? Put it down! I was laughing."

"You want to hurt me? You have no idea who I am." Richie yelled when he put the knife down.

At the same time he cut his hand without intentionally doing with one of the glass pieces of broken bottles. The spectators cried out in complete shock at this spectacle.

"You see. I absolutely don’t feel pain."

"Are you fucking crazy or something, Loser !?" added Bowers.

Bowers stood in his trembling corner, everyone watching the scene between confusion, admiration, shock and total chaos.

"No, I’m Richie Tozier. And it’s good to be home. Great party tho, Stan the man !" he said while smiling before leaving the room.

Oh yeah... fuck me.

Eddie quietly left his friends after that.

Ben came back down the stairs and saw Richie leave the party in fury.

"What did I miss?" Ben asked Mike.

"Where were you, man? You missed the craziest thing ever !" Mike asked Ben.

"I took care of my business."

Mike stares at Ben not fully understanding what Ben meant.

"I’ve lost my virginity."

"What? With whom?" asked Mike.

"Anna Addams."

"Wow. The Anna Addams?" he said with a smile. Ben confirmed by nodding his head, then Mike took him in his arms. "Well! Congratulations! How was it?"

"You should ask her."

Mike laughed and joined Stan in the kitchen. Stan gave Bowers a broom, cleaning supplies and a shovel.

"Clean up, or I’m going to get Richie." Stan said with a black look and a cold, stern voice.

Bowers took them and resigned himself. He glanced at Mike, Mike supported him, and Bowers resigned himself.

"I will stay in case you botch the job. Oh, after that, you and your friends will leave the party. Thank you." added Stan who was joined by Patricia, his girlfriend.

---

Eddie came out of the Uris house looking for Richie Tozier. He found him quite quickly getting his bike back.

"Hm... is everything all right?" Eddie asked while watching Richie.

Oh my God.

"Uh, yeah, it's good, don’t worry, m... Eddie Spaghetti?"

Richie smiled and blinked several times before moistening his lips. His smile came back, but this time in a corner one. He watched Eddie attentively, capturing every detail of his face. His hair was slightly unscrewed, his mascara had dripped a little and mixed with the glitter on his eyes. His pink lips, his freckles, his smile. Richie hugged him.

Wow. I think I’m getting hard.

"Yes yes, it’s m... Hey, don’t call me that!"

"You look good. It just smelled like trouble in here."

Eddie opened his eyes and began to blush slightly.

"Thank you, you’re not bad either... Yes! Yes, I understand your action. It’s just what you did... It was deadly classy."

The two stared at each other for a moment. Richie noticed the necklace on Eddie’s red balloon pendant.

"You still have it! That’s so cool."

"Oh the necklace? Yes! I’m not leaving it. You too, from what I see! You... you’re going somewhere?"

"At my place." Richie replied.

"I.. Can I come?"

"Yeah, of course! But your mother ? How is she since the last time I fucked her ?" Richie asked while mocking Eddie.

"Fuck my mother."

Yeah, fuck my mom. I found back the only boy I’ve ever loved in my entire life, looking like a fucking greek god and I still have to think about my mom ? Not today, Ma, not today.

The two took the road on Richie’s bike. Bowie’s Heroes passed on Eddie’s little JBL bluetooth speaker. Then, Richie suggested him to put Eddy de Preto's Fête de Trop. He was thrilled, clinging to Richie’s waist and resting his head on his back. He had strangely waited for this moment all week. It may not have happened the way he hoped, but Eddie was appeased.

Once they entered the Tozier house, they both went up to Richie’s room. Not much had changed compared to before, it was perhaps closer and more harmonious. Richie undressed and changed into pajamas, Eddie did his best not to look and Richie laughed at him. He gave her one of his sweaters that turned out to be too big for him, but anyway, he loved it and Richie loved seeing Eddie like that. He was just so...

"Cute. You’re so cute, Eds!"

"Stop it, won't you ?!"

Eddie rushed to clean Richie’s wound and apply a bandage with his first aid kit. Richie teased him by calling him Doctor K. and it was like Richie never left Derry. Richie had always been there somewhere and Eddie had seen him become a young man. Once the wound was cleaned and dressed. They took off their makeup and then the two men went face to face in Richie’s bed. They didn’t really need to talk to each other to say all the things they had on their hearts. They both laughed and Eddie snuggled in Richie’s arms. Nothing has changed. They still liked sleeping together. They still loved each other.

Mike, Bill and Georgie went home to the Denbroughs, Georgie fell asleep in the car, but Bill took him to his room quietly and then brought Mike in, then in his room where for the first time they spent the night talking when they were only the two of them.

Bev had gone home in the early morning and managed to miraculously avoid her father. She took off her makeup and changed her clothes at Stan’s after helping her clean everything up.

Ben had slept at Stan’s with Anna and had also cleaned everything with Betty, Patricia, Myra and others who had planned a sleepover at his house.

Bowers didn’t go home after cleaning up Stan’s kitchen, he went to Hockstetter’s to get drunk until the morning. Humiliated, uprooted, and completely high. He was severely taken back by his father and mother but especially by his father and went to his bedroom having already found his future victim for the year.

The next day, Richie and Eddie woke up early. Richie stopped by to brush his teeth and wash himself because Eddie forced him to do it and then Eddie did the same. Once back in Richie’s room, Eddie stared at him as he sat on his bed.

"I have an idea." he said softly.

"What?" Richie asked while stroking his hair softly.

"Wanna get high?"

[theyrealllegends]

Like a Memory (Roger Taylor x Reader smut)

Summary: Having a time-traveller in your life wasn’t easy after all and it upset you and Ben in very different ways when young-Roger had to leave again, leading to the two of you breaking up later. You see Ben again at an award show in 2020 but when you finally feel like things are going to be okay, Roger shows up again. 

Note: Ben’s been a bit of a psycho and I’m sorry about that, I love him and I truly didn’t want to do him that dirty. Anyway, just bear with me through this weird concept and I hope you all enjoy! 

Words: ~6.3k (what? god, I’m sorry)

Warning: a LOT of angst at first, then we’re getting fluffy and the end is the smut you probably came for - please don’t read if you’re underaged!

Part III

Part I (Ben x Reader) | Part II (Ben x Reader x Roger)

You really had to drag yourself home from work. It was an entire Haper’s Bazaar shoot and you’d known before it would be draining. It got completely out of hand, though, and literally lasted for fourteen hours instead of the six you’d been booked for. Not that you complained, New York was as expensive as ever, but now you were tired and hungry. You picked up some Chinese food on the way back to your apartment, knowing you wouldn’t like it but it was cheap and filling. Your back was arching like crazy and you would’ve loved for someone to massage you - or treat you right, for those matters. But you really didn’t have the energy to go out again that night to find someone to relieve your loneliness. So you just ate in front of a crappy TV-show you couldn’t even name, opening a white wine not even halfway through your fried noodles. You had to rush back to your table to not miss a friend calling you on Facetime. 

“I just wanted to see how you were, y/N.”

“I’m bloody tired, been shooting for fourteen hours today”, you explained her, pressing your fingers to your temples because you’d get a migraine, you could feel it. 

“No, I mean it’s you one year anniversary.”

“Of what?”, you asked your friend, Michelle, in surprise. She was that organised, she always knew what was going on in everyones’ life and it didn’t really surprise you that she rolled her eyes because you didn’t know what happened a year ago. 

“Ben and you?”, she asked and you immediately reached for the wine, not caring about your head anymore. 

“Don’t get me started on that, Mikki. I got invited to some award show after that David Bowie Biopic, and I know he’ll be there, I’m already not ready for that.”

“What happened?”, she asked you because you’d never exactly told her, not really able to. 

“If only I knew”, you answered, trying to avoid the answer. It had been Roger’s fault and you didn’t blame him a second. But after him in your life, Ben got incredibly anxious over you. He was scared you’d be bored with only him in bed now, also struggling with the fact that he’d made out with another guy and watched him fuck you and everything. It got the best of him and his jealousy got to new extremes, really, to a point were the two of you were yelling at each other over nonsense. Him accusing you of things that never happened and you freaking out because he even thought that and didn’t trust you. You were relieved when you weren’t in the same country but it drove Ben mad not knowing what you did and with whom, leading to the two of you breaking up almost nine months after Roger went back to his time line. So it was almost two years since you’d seen him the last time and even though you tried not to, you still thought about him. He’d made both Ben and you so happy and it made you sad that Ben overshadowed his positive memory with everything. You’d tried to help him, of course you had, but that had only made it worse. Sometimes you liked to imagine how Roger’s life looked like in his timeline or what would happen if he ever came back and usually it’d somehow turn you on but tonight the opposite happened: it made you incredibly sad and you had to force yourself to stop thinking about that because you wouldn’t want to cry yourself to sleep again. 

***

If you knew one thing it was that you wanted to slay at the award show. You’d lost weight since you’d moved back to New York but that wasn’t your concern: you spent quiet a lot of money to get your hair nicely cut and died a little darker again, wearing it in loose waves for the night. Your dress was dark-green and it fit your skin colour and features perfectly, you noticed with a smile when you’d put it on, your hair and make-up done as carefully as you could be asked to. They even send you a chauffeur to take you there and you smiled when you got in the back of the car, treating yourself to a glass of the expensive champagne that was waiting for you there. It didn’t really help much though, when you arrived at the huge, glamorous and crowded location. There were all sorts of people and you’d known before that there wouldn’t be many you could actually talk to. You spotted Robert Downey Jr in a corner, smiling at him without him noticing you and sooner or later you found yourself looking for the bar. If it wasn’t for the drink you were eager to get, you would’ve probably backed off when you spotted Rami and Lucy there as well. You had no idea if or what Ben had told them and you didn’t really want to know, you stomach painfully twisting when Lucy turned around and saw you. 

“Y/N!”, she called out though, in the genuine smile you knew belonged to her. She came over and hugged you, taking in your appearance afterwards. “You look fabulous!”

“Thanks, you too, Lu”, you mumbled, following her slowly. If Rami was there, Joe and Ben couldn’t be far, you knew that. She started talking about this and that after you’d greeted her fiancé and you tried to be polite and listen, smiling, laughing and nodding here and there to make her feel like you did at least. 

“Oh my god, y/N”, you suddenly heard behind you and you could’ve thrown up right there. It was Joe. You forced yourself to smile at him when you turned around to greet him and you’d been right, he was with Ben. Ben who was looking fine as fuck and stared at you as if he’d been struck by lightning. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”, Joe told you when he let go of you. 

“We’ve both been busy I guess, right?”, you asked him and he nodded with a smile. You wanted people to appear and hand you an Oscar right there when you turned to Ben, giving him a kind smile. 

“Hey there, Hardy. You look good”, you told him and took the two steps over to him, hugging him as well. You felt incredibly weird with his hands on your hips and you felt like you were blushing a little, hoping no-one would notice.

“You too”, Ben just mumbled before he let go of you. “Do you still do g&t?”

“Yes”, you only said and he nodded, moving towards the bar while Joe already started talking to you, his excitement not getting to you in the slightest. You had to force yourself to stay there really, not to break down in tears or just leave. It didn’t help at all when Ben came back, handing you your old signature drink that you didn’t have in the longest time. 

***

“You wanna smoke?”, he asked you later. The official award-part was over, the people around you loosen up for the after show party. 

“Please”, you only said, needing to get out of the hall. It was a huge room and it wasn’t too stuffed actually, but still the walls seemed to tighten around you as the time went on, the crowd got drunk and you were still surrounded by your old friends that obviously still were Ben’s. It didn’t help that he was sitting next to you, sometimes even making a bit of conversation and that he’d touched your shoulder for a split second at one point. But you still followed him outside, willing yourself to stay calm and keep it together. You started shaking when you stepped out in the cold air though and Ben noticed, handing you a pack of cigarettes and his phone before he took off his suit jacket and placed it on your shoulders. 

“Thanks”, you forced yourself to say when his smell hit you. God, why could not one of the men in your life switch up their cologne from time to time? His jacket smelled like him. Like the him you’d known before Roger had happened, like his bed and like his hair and like - fuck, you had to stop all of that. “How’s Frankie?”, you asked him, handing him his cigarettes and watched him light one, taking a deep drag. He offered the pack to you and you took one in silence, hoping the smoke would cover his cologne even though you still found it disgusting when you smoked. 

“She’s good, I guess, staying with my parents a lot since I don’t have the flat anymore.”

“Oh, you moved?”

“Yeah, I was in New York basically all the time for the past six month. And”, he added, running his fingers through his hair. “It was weird, I guess.”

“Surprised I didn’t see you.”

“You live here, too?”

“Yeah, most of my shoots are here. And I didn’t want to move to Japan.” He laughed a bit, moving close when you were still shaking.

“How’ve you been?”, he asked you softly, throwing his cigarette away before softly cupping your jaw in one hand. You froze in place even though all you wanted was to get away. Your thighs started burning, desiring him and you couldn’t even find the strength to fight it down. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, you admitted and Ben’s eyes got dark.

“‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright.”

“No, I mean. I’m sorry about my behaviour. I don’t know what happened but I’m not like that anymore.”

“‘m glad”, you told him, your heart beating painfully. All you wanted was to throw yourself in his arms but you wouldn’t make the first move. Your hands clenched into fists around the inner fabric of Ben’s jacket, willing yourself not to make the first fucking move. You wanted to like crazy and you could tell he knew. When he finally moved, tears started forming in your eyes and he softly wiped them away when the first one fell onto your cheek. 

“It’s alright, babe, everything’s alright”, he whispered, moving even closer. “Can I kiss you?” You had to swallow hard and your hands moved around Ben’s neck, still in fists. You had a hard time breathing and he held you, stroking your hair and your back until you finally calmed down just a little. You lifted your face to meet his and you felt him smile onto your lips when his met yours. 

“Bloody hell”, someone said behind Ben and it broke the two of you apart. It wasn’t the official smokers launch and now that you thought about, it was a shady backside entrance, not the most secure place to be for sure. You couldn’t really see what happened in the barely lit back part of the small patio and you were glad Ben’s back straightened to his full size, knowing he could and hopefully would protect you. 

“Who’s there?”, he asked, taking a step back to wrap an arm around your waist protectively. 

“Ben?”, someone asked back and when you saw Roger’s face, there was no holding back anymore. You burst out in all the tears you’d forced yourself to hold back. 

***

“I don’t know, I was dumb”, was the next thing you heard. It was Ben. 

“Yes, you were, man.” That was Roger. How on earth was that possible. And why the fuck did the fucking universe decide to throw him back into the equation when you finally thought you could make your peace with Ben. You were in the backseat of a car and when you took a deep, yet shaky breath, both boys looked at you. 

“You back with us, angel?”, Roger asked you, leaning over to take your hands in his. You didn’t even want to know how much you’d have to pay for that limousine you rode in, since he was sitting on the opposite side of you. 

“‘m sorry”, you just mumbled. 

“Don’t be. Everything’s fine, y/N”, Ben said. He sat next to you and softly started rubbing your back again. 

“This is just a lot right now”, you admitted. “No offence, Rog, but timing was horrible this time.”

“I still don’t get that. Last time it was two years for me and a month for you. This time it’s the other way around.”

“You’re lucky”, you told him. 

“What happened?”

“I can tell you the whole story later, it’s quiet long and I’m tired.”

“And you don’t want to talk shit about me while I’m there?”, Ben cut in, an eyebrow raised. 

“No, I don’t want you to hear what I did after you -“

“Why not, love?”

“Because it’s bad, Ben”, you told him, your voice breaking. “I don’t even know how that happened but all of a sudden, I either had enough money for food or rent and it’s been awful. I wouldn’t want you to know all of it, I’d be too ashamed.”

“Sure, go ahead and tell him then.”

“Okay, first of all you said that was over. Second of all, you know pretty well how Rog lived and what he did to gain some money, kay?”

“Sorry”, Ben just mumbled. “I’m sorry, I just - fuck, y/N, I want you back so bad. I’ve been so bloody stupid and -“

“Ben, love, sorry, but you need to stop talking”, Roger cut in because he could see that you were about to either faint or throw up. Tears ran down your cheeks and Ben sighed at the sight, wiping them away softly. 

“Please don’t cry, please, I’m sorry”, he whispered, kissing the tears from your cheeks. Your breath hitched up and your nails dug into his shoulders. You’d have a panic attack, you were sure, you couldn’t even breath. 

But then there was Roger. You suddenly found yourself in his laps, your head tugged into the space between his shoulder and his neck. You’d cuddled yourself in there before and it was like this space of his body had been made just for you. 

“I got you, angel, you’re alright”, he mumbled, his fingers holding you close while yours gripped on his black jacket. You could feel the golden ornaments on it and it felt familiar and he was warm and his smell made your head trail off until your breath was normal again and you found yourself in another room, still in his arms. He was humming to you softly and the arm he didn’t stabilise your upper body with was stroking you endlessly. 

“Rog”, you whispered and he turned to you, smiling. “Where are we?”

“Ben’s home. He’s looking for something you can change into.”

“I don’t know if I - shouldn’t I go home?”

“That’s up to you, angel”, he whispered. 

“I was so goddamn hurt, Rog.”

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“God, you were! Old you knew, I’m sure about that, you called me like thirty times in the first weeks after Ben and I - and I kept pushing you away, I just couldn’t - god, I loved you so much.”

“I still do”, Roger whispered, wiping new tears from your face. “I love you, y/N.”

“Sorry to interrupt that but it only seems fair to me”, Ben cut in, stepping into sight and handing you a sweatpants and a shirt. “Took me some time to find but I still had one of your panties and a pair of socks.”

“You’re creepy”, you said, laughing through tears. “God I’m tired, what time is it?”

“Two thirty-something. You hungry?”, Ben asked, looking at Roger as well who nodded. 

“Do you still like those soft chocolate fluffy-dough things?”, you asked him and Ben chuckled. 

“And I still hoard them, yes.” He got you a pack and a sandwich for Roger, opening a bottle of beer for himself. “Are you better now?”, he asked you, honest and with a concerned look, after you’d eaten in silence. 

“I’d like to blame it on stress”, you answered. “I needed to get booked again so bad, I basically never slept.”

“You’re great, like, I’m sure people were queueing to book you”, Ben said, rubbing his neck. 

“They were until they realised that Ben Hardy broke things off with me and he must’ve had a reason and probably I couldn’t be trusted.”

“They did not say that!”, Roger said, sounding pissed. 

“They didn’t but the internet did. I made the mistake to read a short paragraph about me once. It was shortly after the break-up and I just wanted to get to my gym one morning, looking all tired and no-makeup and shit. And it said like “what did this girl do breaking the heart of hollywood’s new beau” - Roger snorted and you slapped him playfully - “looking all guilty and beat up now” and I was just like ‘this sucks’ but after that, I needed to get the people’s trust again and that was a bitch.”

“Well, you can stay here as long as you want, you know that, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, Ben, thats way too soon”, you told him and he nodded. 

“Noted. Where do you two want to sleep?”

“Whoever wants me to stay harder”, Roger said with a playful glance and Ben’s face darkened. 

“I’m gonna pass. You’re great and everything but this one’s on me, I’m not really into that anymore, I guess.” Roger raised an eyebrow but took it with a nod. 

“The internet thinks you are”, you teased Ben, trying to sit up but you would’ve been too weak without Roger’s help. 

“That’s mostly Joe, I just happen to be there and play along.”

“I missed him”, you admitted and Ben’s face softened. 

“I told him some not-that-crazy-timetravel-version of the story and he was on your side the whole time. Like, I mean, first of all he kept saying I wasn’t gay because of some threesomes and that really calmed me -“

“Jesus Christ”, Roger mumbled and you couldn’t help but snort at him. 

“And he said you were just experimenting and it wouldn’t mean I wasn’t good enough or whatever shit I kept coming up with back then and I’m sorry, I should’ve trusted both of you. Because now I’m pretty certain my only real rival when it comes to you was gone back in time when I was freaking out.”

“Benjamin, you really need to chill the fuck out”, Roger said before you could say something. “I was and never will be your bloody rival, I would’ve accepted any sort of boundary between the three of us and I asked you and there never were any, okay? So this one isn’t on me. And I get it, it was new to you to be in bed with a guy and I’m guessing in this century people are less open minded than in my time, so I get the struggle. But even if you were bisexual or gay, it wouldn’t bloody matter to people like this Joe, or y/N or anyone else that truly knows you because it doesn’t define any of us. It’s just what gives you pleasure and I don’t want you to be scared of judgement as long as it does exactly that, giving you pleasure.”

“God, I love you”, you whispered to him and Roger smiled. 

“And you need to stop giving me the puppy eyes, I’m trying to be mad at you”, he continued and Ben raised an eyebrow, unsure what that was supposed to mean. “I thought you were taking care of y/N, not freaking out over me. I was gone, as you’ve said before and I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I’m a good lay and all that but you are what she needs.”

“You think so?”, Ben asked him, moving closer to his bedroom but not taking his eyes of you. 

“I’d like you to protest but I do think so, yes”, Roger said to you and you giggled again. 

“You were there before Roger came here”, you told Ben, your voice getting all shaky again. “And maybe things were different if I wouldn’t be scared to wake up without him tomorrow, already, but you’re what always gave me stability and strength and certainty, Ben and you know I loved you for all that.” Roger was pushing you off the couch but you just shot him a questioning look. 

“What?”

“Go kiss that dumbass already!”

“Honestly, no. You also put me through so much pain for blaming me for shit I just didn’t do, you’ll have to wait for me another night, maybe two”, you answered Roger but facing Ben who nodded. 

“I’ll wait as long as it takes you to forgive me, hoping you will eventually. I’d just appreciate it, if you two did your things quiet.”

“Because you didn’t try to make me jealous when you shagged her so loud the first night we met?”, Roger said, defending you. You blushed at the memory and Ben smiled weakly. 

“You have no idea how often I think back to that night”, he told you in a low voice and it made you get up to walk over to him. 

“Me too”, you whispered. “Can we hug it out?”

“Hell yes”, Ben replied, his eyes getting watery when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You felt all light and like you could fly again, like you always had when this real, not-Frankenstein him had hugged you and the cold on your inside faded a little, giving you hope that it could all fall back into place. “This whole speech was so pointless when I feel like you’re missing right now, right?”, Ben said over your shoulder and suddenly there was Roger, hugging both of you, too. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, love. It’s just me, right?”

“Right.”

“And I slay”, Roger said, making you snort into Ben’s shirt. “You probably won’t have that with another guy.”

“I don’t now how thats calming me down but it does”, Ben told him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, pretty”, Roger replied and you looked up at him. 

“Go kiss that dumbass already”, you repeated what he’d told you and Roger chuckled. 

“I’ll let you make the first move if you feel like shagging me again, Benjamin.”

“This whole evening is so, so weird, but I’d love to sleep with you two, right now”, Ben said, feeling you nod to the first part. “Just sleep, actually.”

“What about you, angel?”

“I didn’t miss how hot and sweaty I got when you two sandwiched me”, you said and the boys chuckled. “But I’m so in you have no idea.”

***

You woke up to Roger spooning you like his life depended on it, his breath softly tickling the back of your neck while both of your heads were resting on Ben’s arm who was awake already, scrolling through instagram. 

“Hey”, you mumbled, smiling that it all hadn’t been the best dream you’d had in ages. 

“Morning”, he replied, turning off his phone. You snuggled into him, his head resting on top of your head and you put one feet between his, making Ben smile. “It’s all gonna be alright, isn’t it?”

“I hope so”, you replied. “He makes you so happy, don’t forget that again, can you do that?”

“I won’t”, Ben promised, kissing your forehead softly. “Thank you for staying here.”

“I’ve missed this like crazy. I wouldn’t wanna miss an opportunity to get it back.”

“Me neither”, he replied and you knew there was something left unsaid and Ben wanted to say it, wanted to tell you that he still loved you like crazy but he didn’t dare to, didn’t want to ruin the situation. You could tell Roger woke up and he smiled into your hair, kissing your shoulders softly. 

“Mornin’.”

“Hey there”, you whispered, admiring how good his kisses made you feel, breathing your two boys in deeply, lingering in their smell and the lazy touches that suddenly were happening around you, Ben’s hand moving into Roger’s hair from underneath his head and Roger reaching for Ben’s free hand that had rested on your cheek, interlacing their fingers before running his thumb over your skin slowly. 

“Sorry I was such a dick last night”, Ben said, not really looking at you and Roger. “I think I didn’t want to admit that I loved this so much only because it was weird and a bit unorthodox.” 

“Just a bit”, you giggled into his shirt. You could’ve stood that way for the whole next year but at some point, you had to pee and Roger and Ben were starting to get hungry. You used some of his products in the bathroom because your skin felt tight and swollen from all the tears and when you came out of the bathroom, you found Roger humming love of my life, watching over the coffee machine and Ben making pancakes. “When’d you learn that?”

“When no-one else would make me food”, he admitted with a grin. You leaned onto Roger, watching Ben in awe. 

“You look at him like you’re about to jump on him”, Roger said, grinning as well. 

“I’m just amazed he’s good at that. He always told me he couldn’t cook without burning his house down.”

“That’s what happens when Fred and I try it”, Roger told you and your heart sank.

“How’s he?”

“Good, I guess. We were fighting a lot about I’m in Love with my Car but he still let me sign it on tour”, Roger remembered, his face showing all pride and joy he’d felt while you had to force yourself to smile. 

“You need to take good care of him”, Ben mumbled, not looking over. 

“I don’t plan on going back there too soon, not that they’ll notice, I always return to the second I’ve left.”

“You can stay as long as you want to”, you nodded, smiling and Roger’s finger slowly cupped your cheek, his thumb running over you skin and you felt good about it, wanting to lean into him even more. 

“Breakfast’s ready”, Ben cut in, sounding annoyed. He left the kitchen with a huge plate of pancakes and Roger’s eyes followed him before he leaned into you and you wrapped your arms around him to meet his lips. He kissed you softly and your heart stopped aching because you knew Roger loved you and that was all you needed right then. His tongue touched yours questioningly and you were happy to meet it with yours, deepening the kiss for a moment before Roger had to break it. 

“He’s gonna try and break my neck if he catches me shagging you now”, he whispered and you giggled. 

“He wouldn’t dare to, he loves you too much.” You lead him to Ben’s dining table and slid in a chair next to him, Ben’s eyes getting dark. “What is it?”, you couldn’t help but ask him, trying to sound concerned while you actually just felt pissed he was acting like that. 

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled, looking down to his food. “It’s hard for me to see you two, kind of knowing I’m not part of that right now.”

“Shall we go to your place, angel?”, Roger suggested. “If that makes things easier for you two?”

“You don’t want to see that bloody place. But we can leave, if you want us to, Ben”, you agreed and he ran his fingers over his face. 

“I don’t know what I want”, he said honestly. “I don’t want to see you two together without me, I guess, but I also don’t want to not see you, if that makes sense.”

“Okay, listen”, you said after a moment of silence, trying to think of a solution. “I’ll take him over to my place but it’s only gonna be two or three days. We’re gonna meet again and I think we’ll both have made up our minds what we want and then we can figure out what we’re going to do, right?”

“Right”, Ben took it with a nod. “I’ll invite you for lunch this Wednesday. I’m busy on Tuesday and Wednesday morning I’m seeing my personal trainer.”

“Good”, you agreed, finishing your breakfast in silence. “It’s gonna be alright”, you promised Ben when you hugged again before leaving. 

“I hope so”, he whispered, kissing the top of your head again. You leaned into him and Ben’s heart started racing when you kissed his cheek, he was dying to just turn his head to make your lips meet his. You broke off him before he could though and he smiled lazily when Roger leaned in to kiss his other cheek. 

“See you soon, pretty boy”, he mumbled and Ben messed up his hair playfully. 

“See you, little.” You knew Roger would’ve tried to argue with that if he hadn’t worn one of Ben’s sweatshirts that was more than baggy on him. You could’ve both fit in there comfortably, you were sure but you preferred your long coat, glad it didn’t allow people to see that what your wore beneath it didn’t fit your heels at all. You had to make do since you didn’t have any other shoes over at Ben’s but he’d ordered you an Uber so you were alright. It took almost thirty minutes to get to your place and Roger smiled when you guided him upstairs to the second floor, shyly presenting your small and untidy flat. The first room you entered from the door was the kitchen and living room area, there was your couch and an old leather seat in front of a small coffee table and your TV. The kitchen had a bar-like counter with three chairs in front of it instead of a dining table and in the free space in the right part, there was your desk, surrounded by a huge mess of camera equipment, paper and shoes really. You took off your heels and your coat, guiding Roger over to your bedroom that was rather stuffed with clothes as well but you could still fit your coat on one of the open rags while Roger was already in your dark purple sheets that really needed a wash. You looked at him in amusement when he toed off his shoes, trying to look inviting and you both laughed when you really came over to him, laying down on one of his arms. 

“I like the place.”

“Thanks”, you whispered back. 

“What do you want to do?”

“I didn’t know before you just got in my bed”, you admitted honestly. 

“‘M glad, then”, Roger replied leaning into you and running his lips over yours gently. “If you want me to stop or whatever, you just need to say it.”

“I’m alright”, you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just because I cried a lot last night and there’s a lot of unfinished business with my - or do I say our? - ex-boyfriend -“

“He never broke things with me, angel”, Roger teased you with a grin and you slapped his shoulder playfully before you took Ben’s sweater off him. 

“That doesn’t mean I haven’t been single for almost two years now.”

“And you didn’t -?”

“You apparently have to leave your place after work to get laid these days”, you said while Roger freed you of Ben’s shirt you still wore. 

“What about the guys you work with? Or guys approaching you at the grocery store?”

“People don’t do that since tinder anymore, I guess. I’d love to be hit on there, I’m already looking for stuff I don’t need, why not add a guy to the cart?” Roger laughed before he opened your bra and moaned silently, taking in the sight of your naked breasts. 

“What’s tinder?”

“I can’t tell you. You’d rush Brian to discover a lot of things just to use it.”

“Do you use it? I think I remember your phone’s code."

“Pity I got a new one, right?” His fingers slipped into your panties and your eyes fell shut. 

“I think I can make you tell me”, he teased you, his fingers barely touching you and you were already a shaking, moaning mess. 

“It’s a dating side and it’s crap if you don’t search for one night stands, if you ask me.” 

“Hmm”, Roger mumbled. “Is there more to it?”

“Not really. You judge people by their looks and then need to be careful they aren’t - God, Rog”, you interrupted yourself, running a hand through your hair. “Please”, you whispered, your back pressing into the mattress when he drew lazy circles into your clit, sending electric-like shocks through your body. 

“How can you be so wet?”, he asked you breathlessly, slipping two fingers into you, making you both moan. “I could just - fuck, y/N.”

“Do me however you like it”, you asked him and he chuckled, pulling down your pants. You still whined at the loss of his touch but when his lips were on your legs, kissing upwards from your knee you knew it was worth it. 

“Someone’s eager”, Roger chuckled at your words and at how desperate you were gripping on his hair, shoving him towards you with your knee as well. 

“Please”, you just repeated, breathless and needy for at least twenty orgasms. Roger’s fingers moved up to your boobs and your eyes rolled back when he took your nipples and rolled them softly between two fingers. “No-one does this as good as you”, you moaned and felt his chuckle vibrate through you, making you press your head into your pillows. He licked your folds lazily before his tongue circled your clit, picking up a pace and your whole body stiffened. “‘M not gonna last long, Rog”, you told him and felt him shrug. 

“Just tell me when you’ve had enough for now”, he answered, his breath tickling your core. 

“You’re the best.”

“You’re just needy”, he teased you grinning. 

“You’re right”, you admitted, bucking your hips into his face and feeling him chuckle again. He let you cum to a point were you couldn’t count how often it’d been anymore, until you couldn’t talk anymore and just pulled him up by his shoulders, barely able to move your legs anymore. You watched him wipe your cum off his chin, grinning when your fingers gripped on his pants to pull them down, unable to notice that he had to undo his belt first. 

“I have exactly one condom”, he admitted and you shrugged. “‘M sorry, angel, but I wouldn’t wanna do you unprotected.”

“Who are you and what did you do to Roger?”, you asked him, pulling him close to kiss him eagerly. You might’ve been pleased but you were still aching to be filled by his cock. 

“Just, imagine if I got you pregnant and then I’d be gone again, or anything, it’d kill me. And I believe that Ben would be so mad, I mean as much as I know you two didn’t do it without.”

“Take a deep breath, love”, you told him, running your hands through his hair. “There’s things girls can do to not get pregnant and I did because it helps with period cramps. And I’m quiet certain you’re healthy, so I really don’t care.” 

“But -“

“Honestly, I don’t want to talk or think about Ben right now. I just want you.” 

“And I want you, y/N. ‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be”, you mumbled into Roger’s neck. “You’re a fucking good man, Rog and I can really tell by moments like that.” 

“Stop it, you’re making me blush”, he teased you, lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance and inhaling sharply. “I don’t know if I’ll last that long, you’re out of this world”, he whispered while you were desperate to have him enter you. 

“Just fuck me, Roger, please.” He moaned deeply when he finally let himself glide into you and you gripped on your bedsheets harshly. He was thick and warm and filling you up perfectly while Roger’s eyes were shut and his jaw clenched. 

“You have no fucking idea how tight you are”, he pressed out, his voice raspy and his fingers grabbing your hips like his life depended on it. He leaned away from you, thrusting into you slowly yet deeply and you were already seeing stars, he was hitting exactly where you needed him. “God, for fuck’s sake I missed you so much.”

“You too, Rog”, you forced yourself to answer, reaching for his body, his muscles stiffening under his skin. “You - shit, you’re making me feel so good”, you told him, breathing heavily and your back arching off your mattress, your legs clinging onto Roger’s hips to make his thrusts as intense as you could get them. “Please, please, go faster.”

“You want more?”, he teased you, moving his thumb to your clit while he started moving faster, making you whine and shiver with pleasure. 

“More, more”, you demanded, trying not to cry out, scared your neighbours would hear. You bit your fingers to hold back all the guttural sounds forming in your chest, pressing your head into your pillow and Roger’s breath grew shorter and shorter. 

“I need you to cum, angel, now.”

“I’m so close”, you answered and he pressed his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep going before he came in hot strokes, his head falling back. You’d joined him already but he still pushed into you two or three times and you smiled, thankfully that he was so eager to make you feel good. 

“I love you”, he whispered, when he’d caught his breath, his forehead leaned against your shoulder.

“I love you too, Roger”, you replied, happy. “Should we take a shower?”

“Yes please”, he mumbled before he yawned and made you giggle. 

Tags:

@meraki–mei

[orleans-jester]

First day back {Leo x Figaro HC}

Leo’s first day at school was - fucking odd to say the least. A lot of the prep that Chip had given him to do felt sort of useless considering the fact that now there wasn’t football to talk about, most of Ronno’s pals weren’t giving him the time of day. Even the coach had scoffed at him. Damn, now he was getting the Willem treatment after his powers had gotten out. He was half relieved - dealing with Gary and his ‘Russell Wilsons’ and ‘Tom Bradys’ was bad enough, school was the only time when he could block all of that out. But another half was sad because Pierre was a social guy. He loved to talk to people. To play, to laugh, to flirt. The people that he knew while he was Pierre hated him for being Ronno and the people that he didn’t hated him for being ... well, Ronno. He felt the apprehension, the weird looks the moment that he rode up on a bike because he wasn’t going to try driving a car again. Not after the fire hydrant.

He stood in the doorway of the cafeteria, recognizing a lot of the people. He saw the spot where he used to sit with Zero, and seeing people that he didn’t know there hurt a bit. Arthur and Figaro and Willem all over at one table. Figaro sighed dramatically when they opened up their lunchbag. “Dad packed me a kewpie doll again. What did you get?” They’d ask Willem. A little doll climbed itself out of the bag, poking it’s head up and looking at Arthur, painted smile, side eyes. Ellie was sitting with Babyface and Mazzie at their usual table. There was still a bit of a dark cloud there, Ellie feeling the loss of Jax every lunch hour, but she got to spend it with her friends so she was still smiling. Leo didn’t know where to go so he thought, shit, I’ll just go. He’d take a couple of steps back and someone grabbed onto his arm.

“There you are, we need to talk,” A little spritely-looking blonde said. Now she was definitely not on the list that he had been given on Ronno’s friends. And he didn’t recognize her at all from Pierre days. He was pretty sure he would have. She was pretty cute. Course, she moved back to NOLA after Ronno had gone missing and any pictures of them together would have been from two years or more ago, the three hanging out, Iain included.

But though this girl was pretty, every single guy ever would get a lump in their throat at being told by a girl ‘we NEED to talk’.

“Uhh -” He stammered, going to run his fingers through his mane but only getting dirty blonde curls. His arm was still being held. And she was urging him, trying to pull him, but obviously this frame was a lot more sturdy than hers, so he was able to just stay where he was. “Can I eat my lunch first? I made pesto, I am not wasting this on a bad mood.”

“You - you made pesto?” Livvy said, pausing it right there. “Like - the sauce?”

“Yeah, over pasta. I even put little cherry tomatoes in there, see?” Leo said, bringing out the little tupperware container with the leftovers from last night. “So - can’t talk. Got pesto.”

It was the laughter of the little kewpie doll that brought Fig’s attention towards the two in the doorway. All the dolls thought Ronno getting beat for hours over and over by Mr Punch had been such entertainment. This little doll was calling for it now. Figaro was seeing something else though. Yeah, they were the one who usually listened to Iain when he got drunk and crooned. It happened on occasion. It happened during break when that bitch tried to approach him on CHRISTMAS FUCKIN EVE. And now she was holding onto Ronno.

“Hmm... should I get involved?” They asked out loud, helping themselves to the snacks in Arthur’s lunch. “Well, I am a big of a Luigi, and every Luigi has some Waluigi in them, and Wario is Waluigi’s best mate and Wario is actually a match up of War and Rodeo so - yeah, I think I have to go be a war-bringing rodeo clown. I’ll be back,” They’d tap on the table as if everything that they had just said made any sense and strolled over, casual as you like - wearing the David Bowie catsuit no less - to go and say hello.

It was noticed by Leo, who showed relief - and then oh right, they were not on good terms, shit fuck.

“Guten Tag Miss Aryan 2022,” Figaro said to Livvy, taking in the very blonde, very blue eyed features. “And - Officer Jackstrap. What a pair you two make.”

“We’re not a thing,” Leo said quickly. “I just want my damn pesto. I went to the farmers market and everything for the basil.”

Figaro ignored that momentarily. “Alright, cool, enjoy your pesto. Listen lady, I don’t know what kinda nursery crimes you’re trying with the cutie patootie that popped out of your little hobbit hole but uhh - not standing for that. Or sitting, for that matter.”

Livvy took in the sight of this person, the one that hung around with the witches so probably was one themselves, dressed like - like David Bowie. Even she had enough pop culture knowledge to know that one. “So you talk to Iain,” She said, turning towards Figaro. “Can you tell him-”

“Nah,” Figaro said, shaking their head. “Physically cannot. I might bite my tongue off. Sounds better than telling him whatever you, Livvy-sign-my-rights-away might say.”

Leo finally put it together. The baby Mama. That made him back right off a couple of feet like he might catch some MILF germs off of her.

“You’re right, don’t say anything, it isn’t any of your business,” Livvy said, face turning cold. “I’ll tell him myself.”

“Nahhhhhhh,” Figaro said again. “You won’t. I’m his restraining order now. You go near him or Stinky Pete and I’ll stick spiders in your ear to give you web-willies. Don’t doubt me. Right Strappy?”

“Totally,” Leo nodded. “Don’t fuck with this one.”

He’d been caught up on what happened in the attic of Funkytown, thank you Chip. Revealing all of Ronno’s sins and the reasons that he had to die. He’d been in Funkytown once himself, had seen the dolls running across the mantlepiece. Gave him the heebie jeebies. He never could handle Chucky.

“I’m not after him, if you’re his new girlfriend or something, though I thought you were dating Willem-” Livvy stated, a little confused.

“Throuble, baby,” Figaro said, holding up three fingers. Leo had to hide a snigger at that one, trying to cover it over with a cough. “Need a lozenge?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Didn’t I tell you to enjoy your pesto?”

“Yes ma’am - er, - sir - errrrr - Figaro,” Leo said and then took a couple of steps back and then hurried down the hall. Yeeting himself out of that situation. He’d go eat in the bathroom or find a study hall or something, he wasn’t going back by those two. Figaro gave him a look. Damn, whatever those Laveaus did was good. They’d laugh about that later, but right now-

Fig put an arm around Livvy’s shoulders and began to walk with them to the cheerleader table where Livvy usually sat, just acting like they were the best of pals. “Livvy, Livv, Liver and Onions, the world - it’s a big and beautiful place. And you should find your place in it. Far away from the ranch, far away from your spawn. Have you tried Dallas? They’ve always got cheerleader tryouts. There’s a whole show about it where you can flaunt the looks that would have won you a coveted spot in Hitler’s Youth. Do that. You took the yee outta my cowboys haw and he’s not as fun when he’s somber.”

Livvy had never been talked to like this. She was still stuck with the image of spiders crawling in and out of her ears. Web willies? That sounded horrible. “Wait, you’re not-”

“Nope, I’m not. See ya,” Figaro smiled real big and then went back to the witches table and stole another treat from Arthur’s box. “Oh, yeah, you’re also dating Iain now,” They’d inform Willem. “Also Jockstrap turned into a real little pesto bitch.”

Unbothered, unfazed, unannoyed by any of the weird looks from the cheerleading table, and from Livv in particular. High school. Drama never ends.

[girlsbtrs]

The Five Best Songs in Movie Scenes, According to a High School Senior

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by Laura Cross. 

As a girl who was born in the 2000s, lived out my childhood in the 2010s, and turned 18 years old in the year 2021,  all forms of media have played a huge role in my experiences growing up. From movies and TV shows to all different types of music to YouTube videos and social media creators, I’ve spent a large portion of my life watching other people do things, whether it was acting, singing, playing an instrument, or even just reviewing makeup products on Vine or TikTok. 

However, one of these mediums has stood out from the rest; movies (or as the nerd in me would like to call them, “films”). As a freshman in high school, I decided to try to start watching more movies when I realized that my favorites consisted solely of Disney cartoons and the occasional cheesy rom-com. 

Over the years, I’ve practically exhausted Netflix and Hulu’s libraries, bought a ridiculous amount of DVDs, and my Letterboxd diary has just reached 200 films (shameless self-promo, you can follow me there @happilyjennifer). When watching movies, especially ones that I’ve never seen before, I always try to pay attention to the music used in each scene - not the instrumental score, but the specific songs used to highlight pivotal moments. 

The right track can make a sad scene heart-wrenching or a happy scene exhilarating, a romantic scene fairy tale-worthy or a death scene absolutely traumatic; a particular song can elevate a key scene in a film, making it that much more impactful. So, without further ado, here are my five favorite uses of songs in movie scenes, from films I’ve seen throughout my 18 years.

Honorable Mention: Heroes by David Bowie in “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”

Some might be shocked at this scene’s placement in the “honorable mention” section due to how revered it is, but that’s almost why it lands there. This film and book have both been overhyped to death as a coming-of-age staple for as long as I can remember, and for that reason, I was underwhelmed when I first read and watched it. 

However, I don’t think it should suffer because of its reputation, which is why I simply couldn’t pick a numbered spot for it. Standing alone as a scene, without any of the praise, this song and movie combination is absolutely breathtaking. 

The visual of Emma Watson’s character Sam standing up in the car with Patrick and Charlie, her arms outstretched as the trio zooms through the tunnel to the city, is a visceral experience. Charlie proclaiming that he feels “infinite” is the cherry on top - he finally feels free, free from any past trauma or current stresses or general pressures of being a teenager. 

It’s a beautiful moment, and it’s made iconic by the addition of Bowie’s hit song. The pairing of Heroes with “Perks”’ instantly recognizable “tunnel scene” is unforgettable.

5. God Only Knows by The Beach Boys in “Love Actually”

As a member of “Gen Z”, you won’t be surprised to hear that my attention span is not the best. That’s why, at times, “Love Actually” dragged a bit for me - I felt that the two-hour and 15-minute runtime was just a little much, especially with so many different stories to keep up with. 

Despite all of that, though, I think that the ending practically saves this movie. The words “one month later” flash across the screen, and we are brought to Heathrow Airport, the place that David, played by Hugh Grant, spoke of at the beginning of the film. 

We’re reminded of his opening sentiment, that whenever he’s feeling down, he thinks back to watching families reuniting at the gates in this airport, and he instantly feels better. It’s a perfect opening to a film about love, and calling back to it makes for a perfect ending. 

The viewers see each of the film’s stories wrapped up neatly with a bow, particularly helpful for people like me who practically forgot about some of the characters by the time the two-hour mark was reached. What really makes this scene one of my favorites, though, is the very end of it. 

As the lyrics “God only knows what I’d be without you” repeat and start to fade out, we are taken away from our characters and the screen now shows real families reuniting in Heathrow Airport, not actors. The clips form a collage and then, ultimately, a heart, before it all fades to black. True human connection can warm even the coldest of hearts, and this classic love song by The Beach Boys is the perfect soundtrack to these heartfelt moments.

4. Fooled Around and Fell in Love by Elvin Bishop in “Guardians of the Galaxy”

Throughout my middle school and early high school years, I knew more about Marvel movies than I did about my family or the material I was learning in school. I saw “Avengers: Age of Ultron” in theaters five times, skipped my first spring formal dance to see “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” in 3D on opening night, and even had a personalized Iron Man sweatshirt that I wore nearly every day.

The Marvel franchise that utilizes music, or at least recognizable music, the most is definitely the “Guardians of the Galaxy” series. Chris Pratt’s character Peter “Star Lord” Quill’s mother made mixtapes for him while she was still in his life, filled with pop music from the 1970s-80s that she listened to when she was younger.

Titled “Awesome Mix Volume 1”, Quill becomes attached to it as it was one of the only items he had left of his mother after they were separated. The music that she shared with him becomes a key piece of this movie as well as its sequel, from Baby Groot swaying in a flower pot to “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5 to Star Lord completing a mission while Redbone’s “Come And Get Your Love” plays through his headphones.

My favorite use of a classic song in a “Guardians” movie, though, is in an interaction between Quill and his love interest, Gamora. The two are bonding over their unusual relationships with their parents with Quill talking about how music connects him to his mom, pulling out his tape deck and headphones.

The dynamic between the two characters here is hilariously adorable, as Gamora explains that she doesn’t believe in music or dancing, which appalls Quill and leads to him explaining the plot of the movie “Footloose” to her, applying it to the people on her planet. He then takes off his headphones and puts them on her head, allowing her to listen to “Fooled Around and Fell in Love”, though she doesn’t quite appreciate the moment, talking over the music about how the “melody is very pleasing.”

I’m a sucker for awkwardly cute couples and the mini enemies-to-lovers storyline between Star Lord and Gamora gives me butterflies every time; I can’t help but giggle when Quill goes in for the kiss and Gamora immediately pulls a weapon on him. The use of such a well-known love song makes this moment that much sweeter.

3. Where is my Mind? by The Pixies in “Fight Club”

Yes, I realize that I’m automatically breaking the first rule of “Fight Club” by even listing it here, but I had to. This is a movie that countless people (men, countless men) had told me to watch for years, and I finally caved about a year ago out of “quarantine boredom.”

While I don’t praise this film as much as others do (men, as much as men do), I can certainly appreciate the influence that it has had on the world of film at large. There’s a lot of commentary on consumerism, violence, individualism, and the concept of masculinity packed into these two hours, even though many people (you know what these parentheses are about to say: many men) miss all of that and just watch it for the fight scenes.

The scene I chose from “Fight Club” as one of my favorites uses of a song in a film is the ending, which includes “Where is my Mind?” by The Pixies. The Narrator (Ed Norton) has just shot himself, effectively killing his alternate personality of Tyler Durden, and his love interest Marla (Helena Bonham Carter) has been kidnapped and brought to him by his Project Mayhem workers.

Marla is horrified upon finding The Narrator in the condition that he’s in and learning that he’s the one who put himself in this situation, or at least he thinks so. All he can offer to her is to say this: “I'm sorry...you met me at a very strange time in my life.” This is when the buildings start to fall.

All of the explosives planted by Project Mayhem begin to detonate, exploding and imploding as Marla and The Narrator look on, The Pixies’ hit playing softly in the background. She looks startled at first, before relaxing and allowing him to take her hand, and the two watch the city crumble to the ground with “Where is my Mind?” as the backing track; it’s masterfully done.

2. Everytime by Britney Spears in “Spring Breakers”

I want to start this section by saying that I’m fully aware that this scene shouldn’t work, let alone be beautiful, and the same could be said for this movie as a whole, but for some reason, there’s something captivating about “Spring Breakers” and the renowned “Everytime” scene. Netflix first suggested this movie to me as a freshman in high school (complete side note: Why, Netflix? What was okay about suggesting this to a 14-year-old?), and it has stuck with me for years after.

The way that “Spring Breakers” sugarcoats itself in its marketing is almost a microcosm of its themes and storyline. The neon color schemes and promos including former Disney Channel stars Selena Gomez and Vaness Hudgens hide a story of four girls on their spring break consumed by crime, drugs, and murder, and this scene exemplifies that perfectly.

After Gomez’s character Faith gets scared and goes back home, drug and arms dealer Alien (James Franco) takes Brit (Ashley Benson), Candy (Hudgens), and Cotty (Rachel Korine) to a strip club where they meet his rival, fellow drug dealer Big Arch. Alien arms the girls with shotguns and pink ski maks adorned with unicorns (hello, symbolism!), and they gather around the piano next to his pool to listen to him play.

Franco’s character begins to play Spears’ hit “Everytime”, the girls singing along, before Britney’s original version takes over, playing as a montage of the group participating in multiple armed robberies plays out on the screen in slow motion. The juxtaposition of the soft, feminine song with the violent crimes being carried out sums up this entire film in a nutshell; I strongly believe that this scene helps this film earn its title as a masterpiece.

1. Young Blood by The Naked and Famous in Disney’s “Prom” 

Giving the top spot to a movie that most people probably haven’t seen could be seen as a bold move, but I’m telling you, this movie raised me. I have such a vivid memory of seeing it in theaters with my mom when I was only eight years old, dreaming about the day that I’d get to dress up and go to my own prom; pretty crazy that ten years later, I’ll be attending my high school’s prom in a month, and I still think about this movie often.

I identified with Aimee Teegarden’s character Nova Prescott heavily when I was younger, the star student who always wanted to be the best and do the best, quickly turning into the obsessive perfectionist who doesn’t know how to have fun and let go. Thomas McDonnell’s portrayal of Jesse Richter, the bad boy with a soft side who introduces Nova to a whole new world, has always tugged at my heartstrings.

The scene in this movie that has stuck with me for a decade now comes when Nova and Jesse are starting to work together to plan and decorate for prom while also started to develop feelings for each other. Nova is stressed that another school’s theme is too similar to theirs and that they will be upstaged, to which Jesse says, “let’s see how starry their night really is.”

The pair hops onto Jesse’s motorcycle and sets off to visit the rival school. As they take the ride, indie band The Naked and Famous’ song “Young Blood” plays in the background, the upbeat chorus and “yeah yeah yeah”s perfectly framing Nova’s change of heart towards Jesse.

They sneak into the other school to check out their decor, only to be caught by the police and taken home by their parents. Nova’s father snaps at Jesse, and while the girl she was at the beginning of the movie would have agreed with her dad, she doesn’t; in fact, she defends Jesse, and apologizes to him for her parent’s behavior the next day.

In addition to being one of my favorite coming-of-age movie moments, this movie also introduced me to The Naked and Famous and the album that this song is on, “Passive Me, Aggressive You”, which has become one of my favorite records of all time (listen to Girls Like You and Punching in a Dream and you’ll be hooked). As I mentioned earlier, the right soundtrack can make a romantic scene a million times more magical, and that’s exactly what the use of Young Blood does here. 

[placegrenette]

A list of things I love about “Ah! Yah! Mah!”

(It’s a long list.)

(But not as long as my draft literature review chapter, which was 16,000 words, including bibliography and a whole lot of written throat-clearing. If you have pity to spare, send it to my committee.)

1. To refer back to my original commentary: I love its bigness, the vast expanse of the song. It’s also a nice close to the promotion cycle, where “Su Asty” and “Yeski Taspa Bii’“ were similarly packed, “Bayau” and “Mooz” a little less ambitious. (A little, in the case of “Bayau.”)

2. While remaining very much a Ninety One song. I tend to favor the specific over the general with pop lyrics, songs where the performers make their skin in the game more obvious. (”Tend to”: and yet my favorite song off 1989 is “New Romantics.” I’m not consistent.) “Aiyptama,” as good as it is, was pre-packaged; you don’t have to know anything about Ninety One to enjoy it. “Ah! Yah! Mah!” is not only full of callbacks to previous Qarangy Zharyq songs but continuing the overall theme -- see the analysis by @qisforqazaq, which points out the references in greater detail.

(2a. I’ll add one more reference: Alem’s Make your brains cross the borders line echoing ZaQ’s Borders do not exist, they are only in the vastness of your consciousness in “Mooz.” The Kazakh lines are Жоқ шекаралар, ол сенің миыңдағы мекендерде бар тек and Таптаурыдарыңды бұзаын, Шекарадан ассын миың, respectively, so the repeat of “borders” doesn’t seem to be simply a coincidence of translation. Thus “Mooz” would be about recognizing the illusion of borders and “Ah! Yah! Mah!” about destroying that illusion.)

3. While we’re talking lyrics, let me rave about my favorite: AZ’s From your conversations, I feel nauseous, as if I’m drinking tea with fat. “Mooz” used tea metaphors to throw shade too, but that’s not why I love that line. It is perfect -- at once visceral, getting the feeling it wants to convey across in a minimum of words, and so culturally specific; when would an American rapper deliver an insult by talking about tea? And it’s so AZ, too, casually dismissive. It makes a whole human experience instantly legible and I love it.

4. Which leads me to AZ’s and ZaQ’s whole section. Way back before Ninety One even debuted and I was raving about Infinite’s Reality, my favorite part of “Take Care of the Ending” was Dongwoo’s and Hoya’s trading off the rap, the way they bounced off each other. AZ and ZaQ trade off with even more energy, and complement that in the video with a delightful playfulness that gets a lot of things done at once.

apologies, y'all, I still can't make GIFs for crap

With a Korean group I’d be tempted to speculate about fanservice, but Ninety One doesn’t seem to have embraced that part of idol marketing, and I don’t get a shippy vibe from this sequence. If Leslie Fiedler, God bless his memory for all time, were around he’d call this reveling in homosociality, affectionate but not sexual, a friendship on full display. But the sequence also -- after Alem staring down the camera, Ace having to cope with the unexpected (more on that in a minute) and Bala turning Bala Seduction Mode up to 11 -- injects some needed humor into the video. We’re going to make your brains cross the borders, sure, but it’s going to be fun.

5. Speaking of Bala:

I mean they all look good but Bibotta gets an extra round of applause for the sequined-jacket-and-curls idea.

6. Speaking of Bala #2: mouthing along to the sound effects during the first dance sequence, when he’s right in front and you can’t miss it. Nine out of ten video directors would have cut, told him to knock that off, and re-shot it. The tenth is Boss Yerbolat, and God bless him for it.

7. I mean they all look good:

apologies again for the small GIF but static shots didn't do AZ justice

8. Y’all know what it’s time to talk about.

@miiumao commented to me that The Hat was the second time she’d been genuinely shocked by Ninety One and their approach to masculinity, the first time being the 2016 New Year’s greetings video -- which I, used to K-pop conventions, hadn’t found shocking at all. Which should serve as a reminder to you all that I am not a good source on gender presentations in Kazakhstan. But that hasn’t stopped me before and it’s not going to now.

I love the hat. Or, rather, the decision to use the hat. Which should shock no one. (For what it’s worth I remain convinced, in the absence of direct evidence, that Bibotta was inspired by Taemin’s “Everybody”-era promotional pictures.) That said, I don’t think the hat entirely works on Ace. His scenes play as if Boss Yerbolat instructed him to act haughty and disdainful, and he overshot “haughty and disdainful” and landed on “I was promised a nap twenty minutes ago goddamn it.” Y’all know AZ would have handled that hat without a second thought. Bala probably could’ve worked the hat just fine. (ZaQ would have said hell no, and Alem would have lasted about thirty seconds before bursting out laughing.) So that Ace got the hat is interesting in and of itself.

Assume with me two different spectra of masculinity, or “masculinity” if you prefer: female/male and boy/man. Add in submissive/dominant, which is (again, in the West; I can’t speak for Kazakhstan) culturally tied to the first two, for better or for worse. AZ, for example, has been using more coded-feminine and coded-submissive gestures -- compare his body language in the “Aiyptama” video to that in “Su Asty” or “Ah! Yah! Mah!” and you’ll see what I mean -- but he never really comes across as boyish, as opposed to full-on adult. It’s something of a surprise, in the Space videos, to hear him giggle.

Whereas Ace has been in charge of boyish appeal from the very first verse of “Aiyptama.” (See Anne Helen Petersen on boyishness and the teen idol -- again speaking very specifically of a Western, Hollywood-produced set of products.) There’s a reason why my fellow Eaglez (*kisses* to Cay and Crystal) used to joke about picking him up from the day care. As late as “Yeski Taspa Bii’“ he’s the guy gently hugging and listening to the girl while the other four act out drama in the background. The appeal of the boyish hero is that he steps aside from the dominant/submissive paradigm, in his practice of gentleness and restraint. To play with dominant/submissive tropes is adult territory. To play with obvious femininity is too, for that matter: we can deal with grown men using feminine gestures to paradoxically assert their power -- think Little Richard and David Bowie; that’s the tradition that I’d argue AZ is working in, and G-Dragon worked in some before AZ -- but the feminized “boy” is another matter entirely.

But in “Bayau” we got prone, head-bowed, eyeliner-to-hell-and-back, shyly-smiling Ace talking about his personal patron of the night: the boyish member seemingly going for submissive tropes in a way that suggested he knew what he was doing. And now on top of that is a shooting-for-haughty Ace with an exaggerated hat that reads as feminine and body language that runs counter to the rest of the video -- Alem is throwing his body around the space as he does, Bala is at the head of the table, ZaQ is at the podium, but Ace has his legs crossed and arms folded close to his body. Thus boyish + feminine + haughty and imperial + submissive = ...? I don’t know! No wonder Ace needed a nap.

9. Leaving that entirely unresolved and turning to a different aspect of Ninety One’s treatment of gender: ZaQ starting his final announcement with “Ladies and the rest!” I love that. Intentionally or not, it comes across as Ninety One centering itself as a group that appeals to women and talks to women, without apology: with insolent pride, actually.

10. I haven’t spoken of ZaQ enough here, so speaking of ZaQ: his declaration that “My skill is a collection of randomly scattered rhymes in accelerated motion,” which is both sweetly self-deprecating and 100% accurate.

11. And finally: if you can do it, you can do it! Do it! Back to the point about specificity: if “Ah! Yah! Mah!” were my first Ninety One single I wouldn’t find anything particularly interesting or inspiring about the line. But knowing what they’ve done so far, and what they’re doing, and what they’re trying to do -- create an entire music scene practically out of whole cloth, in Kazakh no less, which let me emphasize is not the dominant language of pop even within Kazakhstan. And ambitious enough and grandiose enough to try and create this scene not by analyzing their steps with the question of how each will appeal to the broadest possible audience, but by building their own narrative and all but daring the audience to follow along. Not if it will work or if it will sell or if it’s acceptable, but if you can do it. And I’m listening and feeling a new energy, wanting to scream too. Ah! Yah! MAAAAH!

[anonwriter27]

Teen Spirit - Chapter Seven

“Robb Stark get down here at once!” Catelyn shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

This wasn’t good; he usually heard Arya or Rickon being shouted for, never himself. He walked down the stairs hesitantly, wary of his mothers angry tone. When he reached the last step he turned to see his mother looking very distressed.

“Yes mother?” He asked.

“What’s this I hear about a girlfriend?” She said, a hand on her hip and her foot tapping vigorously.

Robb looked to find the culprit when he saw Jon and Theon sink in their seats. He shot them an accusing glare.

“Yes, it’ s Myrcella.”

“And how long have you been seeing Myrcella?” She asked impatiently.

“Just over a month…”

“Exactly! Over a month!” She yelled her arms shooting up in the air.

“Why did you ask if you already knew?” Robb asked, though she wasn’t listening.

“She must think we are so rude not to have invited her over for dinner!” Catelyn started, “We haven’t introduced ourselves.”

“You’ve already met her.” Robb said confused.

“Not formerly! And your father hasn’t met her once.”

“She’s got a point.” Ned interjected though he didn’t remove his gaze from his newspaper.

“Well I’ll invite her over then.” Robb said exasperatedly.

He only said it to appease his mother, he thought that was the end of the matter, sadly he forgot about his siblings.

“Robb’s bringing a girl home.” Bran said and waggled his eyebrows earning a laugh from Theon and Jon.

“Is it Myrcella!? Rickon asked as he entered the room, “When is she coming? I need to pick some flowers!”

Rickon ran out the door barging into Arya as he did so.

“What’s got into him?” She asked.

“Robb’s bringing a girl home.” Ned said simply with a smile.

“Dad!” Robb whined, tired of the attention.

Robb walked up the stairs to find refuge in David Bowie song, attempting to drown out his family’s teasing. They watched him as he left, all with smiles on their faces.

“He must really like this girl.” Arya said.

………………..

Myrcella was nervous, she’d never had a boyfriend before let alone met a guy’s parents. She called for reinforcements. Osha came with food, Hodor brought drinks and Ygritte brought dresses.

“Is this a fancy thing?” Osha asked.

“I think it’s just dinner at their house.” Myrcella said.

She kept her head down as Ygritte fixed her hair. Her stomach was in nots and felt the urge to throw up every five minutes.

“Relax, they’ll love you.” Ygritte assured her.

“But…”

“No buts! You’re the sweetest girl I know, they’ll be thanking you for dating their son.” Ygritte said while Osha and Hodor nodded in agreement.

The door bell rung, and Myrcella knew it was Robb (he was always ridiculously punctual). She turned to look at Ygritte.

“Will I do?” She asked nervously. She was wearing a simple long sleeved black dress, with daisies stitched around the hem.

“You’ll more than do.” Ygritte told her.

She opened the door to see Robb in a blue button down shirt that brought out his eyes, it made her heart beat just a little bit faster. ‘How does he do that,’ she thought.

“You look beautiful.” He said, slightly dazed.

She blushed a pretty shade of pink, “Thank you.”

They were about to leave before Robb remembered something, “Ah, Ygritte?”

“Yeah?”

“Jon told me to remind you about the bar on Saturday, he said you’d know what that meant?”

All eyes turned to Ygritte whose face had turned as red as her hair. No one knew she talked to Jon, let alone hung out with him.

“Oh yeah…right.” She said, then walked away quickly.

Robb and Myrcella walked the car Robb’s dad had lent him. As they drove to Winterfell Robb held onto Myrcella’s hand and occasionally looked over at her. A simple look could set her skin aflame, she didn’t know what had come over her. She wasn’t alone in her feelings; every time Robb looked at her he had to distract himself with other thoughts. He couldn’t help himself, she was so beautiful and sweet, and he found himself wanting to touch her whenever they were alone together. He knew he was getting ahead of himself though, so he contended himself with just holding hands.

……………..

“Rickon you steal one more cupcake and you’re going to bed early!” Catelyn scolded.

“It’s not my fault they taste so good!” Rickon whined.

“Bran distract your brother for me.” Catelyn begged.

“I’m stirring the sauce mother, do you want me to risk it curdling!?” Bran asked aghast.

“Oh of course not.” Catelyn said exhausted, “Sansa! Arya! Your assistance would be greatly appreciated.” She called. They didn’t answer but Catelyn could hear them arguing from downstairs.

“Arya I swear to the Gods if you don’t give me back that top…”

“You’ll what Sansa? I dare you to finish that sentence.”

Catelyn didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what was coming, in three second they heard an almighty thud followed by Sansa shrieking.

“Jon! Assistance!”

“On it!” Jon shouted and ran to remove Arya from her sisters back. This didn’t work and Arya and Jon somehow ended up tumbling down the stairs together, Sansa landing neatly on top of them.

After hearing a crash Ned decided to come out of his study and see what all the commotion was; what he saw was pure chaos.

Arya and Sansa were fighting on top of a concussed Jon, Bran was stood on a chair above the stove screaming “It’s curdling! It’s curdling!”, while Catelyn was mixing egg whites, flour all over her face, keeping Rickon away with her foot.

“Ned! Assistance!” Catelyn yelled, but before he could do anything the door bell rang.

They all froze in place, none of them knowing how to explain their current situation.

“Act normal.” Catelyn whispered and they all nodded while Ned went to open the door.

Ned opened the door, but kept it slightly closed so they couldn’t see what was going on behind him.

“Hi there, I’m Ned. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Myrcella said sweetly, shaking his hand.

There was a long pause, “Can we come in dad?” Robb asked confused.

“Ummmmm….” Ned turned to see the state of the place, it wasn’t great but he couldn’t leave them, on the door step. “Of course.”

All the Starks were lined up ready to meet their guest. Robb shook his head at the sight of them; Catelyn and Bran still had flour in their hair, Sansa and Arya’ clothes were disheveled, while Jon looked slightly out of it and confused. The only sane looking one was Rickon, who stepped forward.

“Enchanté mademoiselle.” He said, handing her flowers and kissing the back of Myrcella’s hand.

They all laughed, the disastrous start forgotten.

………………

They sat down to eat together, Sansa holding an ice pack to Jon’s head, Arya and Rickon arguing over who got the last piece of chicken, and Myrcella consoling Bran about his sauce.

“It was delicious Bran really.” Myrcella said.

“Why does it always curdle?” He said looking at his hands, accusing them of foul play.

“I hope you’ve got room for desert Myrcella, we’ve got a chocolate cake coming up.” Catelyn said.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.”

“So Myrcella you’re Robert’s daughter?” Ned asked.

“Yes I am.”

“Fine man your father, he must be happy your studying further north?”

Myrcella smiled widely at that. Although he travelled a lot, Myrcella had a good relationship with her father, he always called her his little doe, and she loved how proud she’d made him by choosing to leave the south.

“He’s very happy. He says the best time of his life was when he studied at the Vale.”

Ned chuckled, “Aye those were good time, no one knew how to cause mischief like your father.” He laughed and Myrcella joined him.

“How are the advanced classes going Myrcella?” Sansa asked.

“They’re going well. Just one more essay to write and I’ll be finished for Christmas.” Myrcella said happily.

Ned liked this girl, she had all the goodness Robert use to have before he joined the business world. She was smart too; Ned often worried Robb would give in to his popularity and date a girl for status, but this girl was pretty, intelligent, and kind too. She had won them all over and she didn’t even have to try.

“Well the cake will take a while so you are all dismissed.” Catelyn said, and immediately they all left to do something else. (Rickon decided to wait in the kitchen to make sure he’d get the first slice).

Robb and Myrcella went up to Robb’s room, though both of them felt nervous about doing so.

“So what do you think of them?” Robb asked as he partially closed his bedroom door.

“They’re lovely Robb, you have such a nice family.” She said and he smiled at the compliment.

“They like you too.” He said.

“You don’t know that.”

“One more nice comment and my mother is adopting you.” He joked and they both laughed, “Want to read.” He asked and she nodded eagerly.

They had started reading together in the last few weeks, Myrcella would lay in his arms while they read the same book. They were currently on his sofa reading a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories.

They didn’t know how much time had past, but they finished a good five stories.

Robb turned to look at her as she lay in his arms, those piercing green eyes staring back up at him. There was something about her eyes, the way they always looked so inquisitive, he could get lost in those green orbs.

Before he could stop himself he leaned in to kiss her deeply. The book dropped to the floor while Robb turned to hover over her slightly.

This kiss felt warm and electric, as though each touch caused a spark. He stroked her cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing over her cheek bone.

It wasn’t aggressive in its passion, it was tentative. Although they kissed frequently, Myrcella was still shy and new to it all. This kiss felt like her surrender; the walls she had built up slowly beginning to crumble.

They heard a faint knock on the door and someone clearing their throat, causing both of them to jump apart. Robb looked up to see his father, while Myrcella refused to look anywhere but the floor.

“Your mother says the cake is ready.”

“Right, ummm… we’ll be right down.” Robb said awkwardly.

Ned nodded at them and left. He couldn’t help but smile at himself remembering his own youth.

They headed down stairs where all the Starks (except one) were gathered in the living room.

“Ah there you are! Ready for dessert?” Catelyn asked and they all nodded eagerly.

They all headed to the dining room ready to eat when their excitement reached a dead end. There sat in front of the table was Rickon Stark, a half empty plate in front of him, chocolate on his hands, and a smile on his face.

“How did he eat it so quickly?” Jon asked, more amazed than annoyed.

“It just came out the oven… it was still hot.” Bran said stunned.

“Rickon! Bed! Now!” Catelyn erupted.

He jumped off of his seat and walked out with as much swagger as a six year old could possess.

“Worth it.” He said proudly. ………………

Robb left to drop Myrcella off at her flat, leaving the Starks to discuss their guest.

“She seems cool to me.” Arya said.

“She ate my sauce even though it was ruined. She will forever have my gratitude for that.” Bran joked.

‘Well I’ve always liked her.” Jon said proudly, “ Rickon would say the same if he wasn’t suffering stomach pains.” He laughed.

“She helped with the dishes!” Catelyn pointed out.

“And she makes Robb happy.” Sansa said with a smile.

They all turned to the family patriarch, sitting quietly in his arm chair. They sat in silence awaiting his verdict.

“I like her.” He said and they all smiled in response.

Ned joined Catelyn in the kitchen, “Cup of tea?” He asked.

“Yes please.” She said.

“You know, Robb seems pretty serious about this girl.” Ned started.

“I know, it’s sweet isn’t it?” Catelyn cooed.

“Robb’s at a certain age now Cat, maybe we should talk to him about… you know…”

“Do you think it’s time?”

“I wished it wasn’t.” Ned sighed.

“We’ve never given the talk before, what if we  don’t do it right?” Catelyn said.

“Well we’ll know better for the next time.” Ned assured her.

“When it’s Sansa and Arya’s turn?” Catelyn teased.

“We’ve discusses this Cat, they’re joining a convent.” Ned joked.

[thisisheffner]

Best Music Scenes: Portland, Maine - Rolling Stone

In our new series, we look at eight cities where live music has exploded — from legendary hubs like Chicago and Nashville, to rising hot spots like Tulsa, Oklahoma, and Raleigh, North Carolina. The latest is a left-field surprise: Portland, Maine, which is drawing promoters from major cities and ambitious young songwriters.  

Every November, more than a dozen top musicians from Portland, Maine, take over the local State Theatre for an ambitious trip back in time: They play a Beatles album in full. This year, it was the White Album; bandleader Spencer Albee sang “Martha My Dear,” backed by precise orchestration, and even invited friends and crew to act out “Revolution 9.” “It’s a love fest,” says Albee, a songwriter in the “lazy disco” band Bell Systems who started the event in a bar 17 years ago. This year, they packed the 1,700-capacity theater for three nights and employed almost 40 people. “I can’t tell you how many people have had their first concert experience with us,” Albee says. “We’ve even had people propose at our shows.”

Kenya Hall Photo: John Doyle

Beatles Night is just one example of how seriously Portland takes its music. “I’ve never lived in a city with this much talent,” says Lauren Wayne, general manager of the company that owns the State. “I get friggin’ emotional about it.” That talent ranges from the funk-soul singer Kenya Hall to folk harmonizers the Ghost of Paul Revere and the Mallett Brothers Band. There’s also psychedelic trailblazer Jeff Beam, and Zach Jones, a part-time Mainer who regularly releases endearingly catchy songs that find a new spin on the Beach Boys and Motown (full disclosure: this writer is from the area). When Wayne moved to Portland in 2001, the scene was “way smaller.” But now, more than a dozen venues have opened in the past decade (not to mention restaurants: Bon Appétit named it the top food scene in the country in 2018). The industry is paying attention — NYC promoters Bowery Presents chose Portland as its first city outside of New York to operate venues in.

Band members of Spencer & The Walrus, warm up backstage in the Green Room of The State Theater, before the first of three shows in Portland, Maine on Nov 29th 2019. Photo: Ryan David Brown

Best Gig With a View

Thompson’s Point was an abandoned railroad yard overlooking Portland harbor that the State Theatre turned into a gorgeous outdoor spot; Maggie Rogers sold it out twice. “It’s the best place to see the sunset in Portland,” says Wayne, adding that artists love playing there for the free lobster rolls and oysters.

Rustic Overtones’ Dave Gutter and Jon Roods Photo: Lauryn Sophia Photogaphy

Hometown Heroes

Rustic Overtones, the ambitious punk-soul crew — led by gravel-voiced frontman Dave Gutter — have a catalog that locals know by heart. The band was signed to Arista in the late Nineties and even recorded with David Bowie (stream the great “Sector Z”). But after two major-label deals fell apart, they broke up (“It’s a comedy of errors,” says Gutter). Rustic reunited in 2007 and got back to what they do best; check out their excellent first album in six years, and the career-spanning Mood Box.

While Gutter says that Portland is full of “studio lab rats, we collaborate and work with a lot of artists at our studio. After we recorded our first project there, New Way Out with 31 musicians, it kind of set the tone for a community of musicians to always hang out there.”

Best Small Clubs

One Longfellow Square is a 185-capacity “listening room” featuring left-field heroes ranging from Marco Benevento and John Scofield to Robyn Hitchcock and Elizabeth Cook. “With Portland being a smaller touring market compared to the bigger cities like Boston and New York, we get a lot of artists that [usually] play bigger rooms,” say Jeff Beam, an artist who books the venue. “I remember Leo Kottke commented on that intimacy the first time he was here, the rawness caught him off-guard a bit.” Also: check out Port City Blue, a vibe-y room that hosts jazz jams that can run for hours. “You can see a show every night of the week,” says Bill O’Neil, a longtime radio DJ and record store owner.

A Secret Country Past

Maine had one national country star: Dick Curless, an eyepatch-wearing singer who had his biggest hit with 1965’s “Tombstone Every Mile.” Willie Nelson affectionately calls Curless’ songs “toe-tappers.” “The Maine country music tradition goes back to before the first Grand Ole Opry broadcast,” says author and rock & roll historian Peter Guralnick. “Many people know Dick Curless, Maine’s one national country music star, but they’re less aware of the tradition in which his talent was forged, and which he came to influence so strongly by the breadth of his talent and the depth of his feeling. Dick started out on Al Hawkes’ country and rockabilly-based Event label, in Westbrook, Maine, just outside of Portland. In fact, Dick was the start of the label, which also featured the great jazz guitarist Lenny Breau, still in his teens, in a country and rockabilly vein. All over the country there are pockets of talent and creativity like this — but Maine, home to so many Acadians who never made it further south, is second to none.”

Portland is also famous for a show that didn’t happen there. Elvis Presley was supposed to play the Cumberland County Civic Center on August 17, but he died the day he was supposed to travel to Portland for the show. “I actually had his guitar player James Burton lined up for an interview the day he died,” says Bill O’Neil. Elvis had played Augusta several months earlier: “We went to the airport and Colonel Parker is sitting there with his cigar, we talked for an hour and a half about Eddy Arnold and Hank Snow and all these other people he previously worked with,” says O’Neil. “I actually got an Elvis album autographed by the Colonel. That might be rarer than an autograph of Elvis!”

Beatles Night at the State Theatre. Photo by John Doyle

Best After-Show Hang

Portland’s Old Port is full of exciting places to drink, like Novare Res, which has a 300-beer menu. For real local flavor, head to Howie’s Pub, a low-key neighborhood bar with darts and jalapeño poppers. “It’s not a pretentious bar,” says O’Neil. “You have a lot of your good local beers available, as well as your PBRs and your $2 Labatt Blues during the hockey games. You’re not necessarily buying the signature cocktail.”

This content was originally published here.

[the-invisible-self]

I did this. Fast and dirty. Like a Rorschach Ink Blot.

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? I balance it exactly. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yes. Like Buck Vu, I'm a fan of cold things in the cold. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Anything. Pencils. Receipts. Other books. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? In my mouth. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Naw bro 6: do you keep plants? The ones that survive. (And some of the ones that don't.) 7: do you name your plants? Naw bro 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Shitposting. Lol not really. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yep 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? All of the above. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? Wouldn't you like to know? 12: what's your favorite planet? Earth 13: what's something that made you smile today? Smutty fanfiction. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Messy and wonderful 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Naw bro 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Spaghetti w meat sauce and LOTS of cheese 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? None 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I don't have friends. That's why I'm filling out 100 answers by myself. 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?nah bro 20: what's your favorite eye color? Brown 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. It's a bag of holding. With patches. 22: are you a morning person? When I'm not sick 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Nothing. Or write. 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? My therapist. 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? Can't say I have. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?minnetonka Mocs 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Isn't “bubblegum” it's own flavor?Whatever. I prefer spearmint. 28: sunrise or sunset? Sunrise 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Shitposts 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Absofuckinglutely 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I used to steal my husbands socks Bc they were cool & I thought it was cute to wear his things, but he left me and now I don't have a husband or any socks to wear. So. Yeah. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. I fell asleep. 33: what's your fave pastry? Chocolate. Or cherry. 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I unfortunately still have all my childhood folks Bc my hoarder parents mailed them to me 3 years ago. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Gimme college rule loose leaf and some reliable black ink 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? STRFCKR 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I like it clean but it's always a mess 38: tell us about your pet peeves! Sticky hands 39: what color do you wear the most? Red? 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? I bought a ring that's a big open circle and I wear it instead of my wedding ring Bc fuck my ex

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? The night circus 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! No. All coffee shops are precious and magical. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Myself & a pack of smokes 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? I don't 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yep 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. There is nosuch thing. All puns are beautiful. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Cold potato salad 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Knives/bleeding. Yep. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? Yep. David Bowie. 50: what's an odd thing you collect? Magnets of female villains. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Buck vu. Claire de lune. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? All of Tom’s memes 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? No heathers? No beetlejuice? Yep - loved it as a kid pulp fiction? Yep - triggering what do you think of them? 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My kid 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? I don't prove myself. I just am. 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Flaws 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? I always love that song. Except when I have a headache. Right now I have a headache...so... 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? I don't have friends. Just Tumblr friends. And we don't drink together.But liz is the wine mom and chris is the vodka aunt. 59: what's your favorite myth? The Bible 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? Yes. Mary Oliver. All of her. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? A donut. An empty box that, when opened, I said was full of love. 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? No 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? not really? I like them inbrsknbow order but honestly idgaf 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Starlight 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Yes 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?Lilacs & daisies 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Peaceful 68: what's winter like where you live?gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty 69: what are your favorite board games? SETTLERS OF CATAN

70: have you ever used a ouija board? nah bro 71: what's your favorite kind of tea?Breakfast tea 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? Yep 73: what are some of your worst habits? Messy everything 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. deeply generous, but I'm afraid of taking too much… effortlessly beautiful, but a beauty that's not for me 75: tell us about your pets! My cat is a jerk who picks fights with all the other cats and hates babies. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Nah bro 77: pink or yellow lemonade? Yes please 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? Nah bro 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?Gave me a skipping stone from Spain Bc I reminded them of Amelie 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Brown. Yep. Idk it just felt right. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. In her head 82: are/were you good in school? Yep 83: what's some of your favorite album art? Pink Floyd 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Birds on my arm 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? Used to. Xmen. 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? Idk 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Fred estaire & ginger Rogers 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Abstract expressionism 89: are you close to your parents? No 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I busked. I loved it, but the good was horrible. There were more homes of dead authors than I had time to visit. 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? A rainforest 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?MOAR CHEESE 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Pigtails 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?I don't know ppl 95: what are your plans for this weekend? Work while sick. Yay. 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? I'm supposed to install updates? 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INFP cusp griffindor 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Too long ago. Yes. I love hiking. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. ::insert the beetles here:: 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Neither. Fuck that shit. I wanna live rn.

[thereviewsarein]

Toronto pop artist RALPH is back with a new EP, Flashbacks & Fantasies with six songs and more than enough bounce to get you moving.

The songstress is open and honest about the music she makes, in her own words it’s music you can dance to. And on Flashbacks & Fantasies, just like her 2018 album, A Good Girl, she does exactly that. It’s no surprise, but for me, it starts with Gravity, her most recent single. It’s a bop that pairs her lyrics and voice with a strong musical track to go with it. It beats and grooves and moves for three-and-a-half minutes of pop-soul-disco-synth bliss.

When we talked to RALPH in the spring while she was on tour with Scott Helman, she told us that, “it’s always been really important for me to write music that connects with the listeners on more of a personal, emotional spectrum.” It looks and feels like she’s done that again on her new EP.

Related: Girl Next Door – RALPH Interview & 5 Quick Questions

Flashbacks & Fantasies does a lot of the same and more with No Fuss No Muss, Last Time, Headphone Session, Looking For You, and Sunday Girl. In a quote accompanying the release of the EP, RALPH said, “I liked the idea of experimenting and surprising people… Instead of being scared to try new things, like having a jarring rhythm or singing about sexy moments, I embraced them. And because of that, I have 6 songs that all feel diverse but feel really, truly ME.” We are always, always happy to hear that an artist feels like they were able to follow their own path and made the music they want to make. And knowing that RALPH feels this way about her new EP is a plus.

It’s also a plus and something we can mention because the EP works. It’s good. It’s a start-to-finish listen that is never boring and always moving. In an online bio we’re told that RALPH “spent much of her childhood covered in facial glitter and feather boas, singing along to Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, Prince, and The Temptations,” and that isn’t a surprise at all when we hear her music and imagine her in the same glitter and boas singing No Fuss No Muss or Looking For You.

Flashbacks & Fantasies is pop experimentation. It’s RALPH not being afraid to try something out of left field. It’s fresh. It’s strong. It’s somehow both what we expected and unexpected at the same time. It’s a more than solid follow-up to A Good Girl, and we won’t be surprised if it finds the same audience connection online and on stage that those songs have.

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Related: RALPH, A Good Girl Album Review

Here’s a quick shout out to Headphone Session. It’s a powerful track packed with lyrics that too many women will identify with and that too many men need to take to heart. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not here for pleasin’, You think you’re smooth and subtle, I’ve got my headphones on for a reason” And while we’re listening to RALPH tell the truth and lay it out, it also slaps. We’re very here for it. “Do it I dare you, One more time, Tell me to smile”

There’s another thing we’ve gotten used to when it comes to RALPH – a busy tour schedule. And the afterglow of the release, she’s hitting the road again. First, she’ll play on Thursday, December 5 in Toronto at the Mod Club, and then she heads to the US for a sold-out show in NYC before joining joan for a run of 19 American dates starting in February. But that’s not all. After she’s done south of the border, RALPH comes back to Canada and heads west for shows in Victoria, Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton, and Winnipeg. It’s going to be a busy winter for her. And fans should be ready to hear the new music when she takes the stage.

Visit songsbyralph.com for a full list of dates and to get tickets!

In just under 20 minutes, RALPH lays it out and shares the EP we’ve been waiting for since she told us she was working on it back in March. Now it’s here, we’ve been listening over and over, and we’re ready to see her play it live, and for whatever comes next.

Now, hit play on the stream. Listen to the six tracks. And leave a comment telling us what you think of Flashbacks & Fantasies.

RALPH, Flashbacks & Fantasies Tracklist

1. No Fuss No Muss 2. Gravity 3. Last Time 4. Headphone Session 5. Looking For You 6. Sunday Girl



RALPH, Flashbacks & Fantasies EP Review Toronto pop artist RALPH is back with a new EP, Flashbacks & Fantasies with six songs and more than enough bounce to get you moving.

[jeffereykuhn-blog]

The Secret From Results In Courtship And also Sexual activity, relationship and contentment.

In the 2nd short article from a four-part collection, you'll observe the progression of bipolar II through the account of Wendy, a teenager that faced the problem. For one the pretentious" remark raises it is actually head here as well, but yet another one is actually the ______- rate ideology" opinion, you understand the ones, this is just college-tier/ high school-tier/grade school-tier/baby-tier ideology" so individuals are claiming certainly not just is this certainly not as wise is this thinks yet is really incredibly entry level. Suggesting about rules, regulations and best or even inappropriate methods of doing factors is actually one means of speaking about the amateur as well as the expert; social types that create pretentiousness an also knottier issue. The waiter provided the largest laminated and also very most intricate food selection Leo had ever seen and then poured 2 big glasses of freshly made cold tea. 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Therefore you'll follow this strategy: cut the stem at a quite pointy angle 2 ins beneath the end, in comparison to pass it via the fire or leave it for a while in hot water, for the pest drug to become eliminated.

[sudsybear]

Mark

Eventually that fall, I hooked up with Mark. He and I attended art class together. As a senior, I wanted an easy course. The department had a great reputation so I signed up. I was one of a few upperclassmen in with a bunch of sophomores and juniors.

 Mark has incredible drawing talent. He doesn’t use it much anymore, but he retains a wonderful artistic eye. It takes him forever to complete a project. As we were in the art classroom finishing up our projects to make our deadlines, we chatted. I flirted shamelessly, and got him hooked. He was mine.

 Mark was still growing into himself when we dated. He may have grown an inch or two during our time together – he stopped growing when he reached 5’10”. He has a slender build, topped with dirty blonde hair and at age sixteen, was already showing signs of premature balding. He suffers that Northern European receding hairline that so many men have. Put that high forehead with a long straight aquiline nose, full lips, and a receding chin, and that’s Mark.

 He is an only child. As a young woman, his mother married a man twice her age. And consequently Mark’s father died when he was quite young. When I knew Mark, he was very protective of his mother. She tried to date, but he was having none of it. “Putz” was his word. Reminded me of David a bit. (Will some psychologist please explain about teenage boys and their mothers? What is it that prevents them from letting their mothers have social and personal lives? Is it hormonal, Oedipal, what?)  A loner, Mark does his own thing, and yet has a quiet fascination with the social interaction of his peers. Standing quietly in a hallway, he acutely observes and absorbs everything going on around him. He works hard to maintain his independent identity, and yet nurses a private insecurity, a longing to be part of the “in” crowd.

 He didn’t have his driver’s license, or a car to drive even if he did, so I drove everywhere. Mark remembers riding in the Pinto. Stopped at the red light at the corner of my street and the main street through town (The one red light in the eight hundred yards between the high school parking lot and my house.)  Wish you were here was in the tape player. He thought it was so cool that a girl knew (and liked!) Pink Floyd. That’s it. That’s the memory. A nice one don’t you think? And provides a great transition as well. No longer with David, I took up with Mark. No longer driving the Buick, I traded a ragtop for a tape player. I still liked to drive, even a Pinto. And I took something of my own away from David and Christopher. I actually enjoyed a little Floyd.

 Mark was a year behind me in school, and best friends with Scott (Ross’ younger brother). So, through Mark, I got to know Scott a little better. Ross had mentioned Scott in one of his previous letters, but it took six months from the time Ross first mentioned him before I actually spent any time with Scott. But even then, it wasn’t Scott I spent time with, it was Mark.

 We didn’t have any money to spend (babysitting money only went so far – filling up gas tanks, and buying fast food) so we made our own fun. Mark and I played board games together, Scrabble mostly. We sat on the floor of my parent’s living room with the board between us, and battled. We picked letters and created words. I don’t remember who won or even if we ever finished a game. We may have gotten tired of playing and just poured the tiles back in the box.

 I was a Scrabble fiend that winter. I was in a mood for battles of letters and words. I lobbied hard to convince the Corral Board to put on a Saturday night game night: Scrabble, Monopoly, penny poker, but no one else rallied with me. I was bored with the live bands and DJ’s at Corral, I had been there, done that, and was tired of jumping around the dance floor. Even so, my friends were all dancing, so I packed up the Scrabble box and drove to the Civic Center to play. Mark and I got a game going, friends surrounded us, kibitzing and soon the room was split between the dancers and the band in the front of the hall near the stage, and the Scrabble game going on in the back of the hall. Exclaims of “Good Word” were shouted over the drum set. Mark and I reveled in the attention.

 Mark and I talked. He didn’t own a computer and we practiced the fine but fading art of personal conversation. While he was a loner, that didn’t mean he lacked opinions, or interesting things to say. His observations provided a perspective I hadn’t considered in my young life. Of course we listened to music – Mark likes stuff with a harder edge. For whatever reasons he’s angrier than other people I have known. Dead Kennedy’s, Adam and the Ants, The Kinks, The Clash, Sex Pistols. Some I like, some I don’t. It’s fun to listen and learn. After school, while his mom was at work, we sat on the floor of his room and listened.

 One evening Mark was over at our house for dinner – or stopped by shortly after – and while I sat at the dining room table, Mom cleared some dishes and got coffee for Dad. We asked about dessert, and somehow the conversation turned to chocolate chips. The next thing I know, we’re sitting around the table – all of us, Mom, Dad, Mark and myself – balancing chocolate chips on the end of our noses trying to then catch them in our mouth. We got the giggles – I think Dad was the only one who could master the task. My nose is too pug to be able to get the necessary angle.

 Another afternoon we decided not to play Scrabble, but to try Trivial Pursuit instead. We started the game and were playing when Dad arrived home from work. After changing clothes, he walked into the living room to visit and watch what was going on. Dad started feeding me answers…I picked the most obscure category – Entertainment most likely (Despite the fact that I love movies, I cannot retain names. So knowing who starred in what movie, or which song made the top ten in 1958 was well beyond my ken.) I impressed the hell out of Mark. We kept playing, and he kept giving me these looks like, “How in hell did you know that?” Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing. Poor guy.

 Mark was not David. While David and I were occasionally public with our displays of affection, Mark and I were quite private. Most never knew we dated. Quietly, discreetly with music playing in the background, some afternoons teen passion got the better of us and we explored each others’ bodies. Shy and nervous with each other, our unfamiliarity desperately wanted to become familiar. We reached for each other, kissing tenderly.

 He was brave and trusting enough one afternoon to let me cut his hair. Sitting on a chair in his mother’s yellow kitchen, he wrapped a towel around his shoulders and let me dampen his head and run a comb through his hair. Then slowly and more than a little anxious, I snipped away at his locks, trimming them to the best of my untrained ability. We laughed and talked through our nervousness, and the experience turned sensual. I was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, and I didn’t realize until much later what a responsibility that is.

 *          *          *

 My brothers were home for Christmas that year – a now rare event to have all of us in one place for a holiday. Jack had been away for eight years. Tom and his wife lived in Oregon - he’d been gone for six years. My grandmother (we called her Mommer) was over for dinner with the whole family and the phone rang. Mother answered it, “Hello? Oh, just a moment. It’s for you Susan.”

 “Hello?”

 “Hi! I was wondering if you’d want to go see a movie tonight. Dune.”

 “Well, I’ve got family here, visiting. Let me check with my Mom and Dad. Hold on.”

 “Mom, Dad, is it all right if I go to a movie tonight? Dune.”

 “Sure, if you want to.”

 “Okay. What time? Who’s driving? You’ll pick me up? Great. See you then.” Click. Pause.

 Uh oh. Panic. Now what do I do?

 Confess.

 To my parents:  “I just did a silly thing. I have no idea who I’m going with. I have no idea who I was speaking to on the phone. I think it’s Victor, but I’m not sure. What do I do?”

 We discussed the predicament (added an interesting twist to the conversation anyway) and decided that should he call back, Mother would ask, “Who is calling?” before turning the phone over. Second choice was to investigate who would be coming to the door before I was ready.

 Turns out I was right. It was Victor, and his brothers Igor and Alex and their neighbor Matt. We all piled in the “Grenade” to see Dune. Fun movie. But why was I the only girl? Could it be those letters I wrote to Victor while he was at boot camp?

 I was still firmly entrenched in “the group” despite the falling out with David and others. Victor’s overture of friendship brought me back into the fold. It helped that Mark and Scott had friendships with Igor.

 Victor and Igor hosted a New Year’s Eve party. Upstairs in the living room, dining room and kitchen, the adults had their revelry with wine and cheese, and fancy hors d’ouevres. While the adults were tipsy upstairs, the teens were in the basement with our own loud music. Igor liked David Bowie, Victor played ELP, and of course the other 80s pop standards. Competing with the party upstairs, we had our own fun. Somebody mixed “reveler’s rot” a punch of Everclear mixed with whatever fruit juice was around – most often Welch’s with fruit slices thrown in for effect. A ghastly grape flavor that night, it was our illicit means of intoxication.

 Julie and I decided to get drunk. In all of our seventeen years we’d never had the experience, and decided it was about time. Teen Counseling pledge be damned. She and I gingerly stepped into the storage room where the punch was hidden and filled our Dixie cups. We tasted the concoction, grimaced, and tossed it back our throats. We drank 2-3 cupsful – who remembers exactly?

 I drank until the room started spinning and stopped. I got silly, and started dancing, then my bladder kicked in and I had to pee. (That’s how I remember that the lone john in the basement had nothing but a curtain in front of it. I had to pee a lot, and felt like I was on display every time I did.) As my curfew time approached, Victor took me up to his dad’s office so I could call home. Sitting on Victor’s lap, it took me several tries to punch in the numbers. Dad answered the phone. I told him I was having a lot of fun and asked to stay later. The guys sobered me up and I was able to drive the half-mile home by 2 a.m. or so. Overall, it was a most pleasant evening – my first drunk in the midst of friends who loved and respected me for who I was, lumps and all.

 Poor Julie got too much for her system and started vomiting. Her parents came and picked her up early. I don’t even remember her leaving the party. I learned about that later.

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