#trashmouth fallout | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beepbeeprichiellc · 4 years

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Every single one of your 74 and 86 end sadly and I am not here for it!!! I want a part four please, with some type of happy ending, please, please, please!! I’ll name my first born after you💕 (also I loveeee this story)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

When Richie had agreed to come celebrate Eddie’s birthday it was out of guilt.

The group hadn’t been the same since his and Eddie’s fallout, lines now being drawn between the seven of them. Richie rarely ever spent time with Beverly now, her Ben always walking Eddie to and from school leaving no room for the trashmouth to sneak in quality time with his used-to-be closed friend. So instead he stayed close to Stan who stayed close to Mike who stayed close to Bill. Richie was the definition of a fourth wheel and even though the three of them did their best to keep their relationship from interfering with the time they spent with Richie-there was no way around the fact that when they were together Richie was the odd man out.

So it was easier to be alone, which he preferred more and more now a days. When Beverly had shown up one night explaining that Eddie’s birthday was coming up-which Richie already knew-and that he was expected to attend their traditional party he had first opted to bow out. That hadn’t gone over well and Beverly used every guilt trip in the book to get him to agree to attend-and to behave as well.

The gift decision however, was done out of utter desperation.

Richie had bought the damn thing on a whim, watching Eddie fawn over the music box caused him to spend every cent he had collected mowing lawns just to get it out of that antique store. It taunted him after the fallout, sitting on his nightstand and staring at him each and every time he tried to forget the guilt he carried. It was a reminder that he had broken Eddie, that he had rejected him in the worst way possible and that in life there was no going back.

Stan had suggested that he talk to Eddie but every time Richie tried it was like his voice was stolen, his throat clenching and heart stopping. It was almost impossible to catch Eddie alone-between Beverly, Ben and that fucking Rick guy-and when he did Eddie would turn away and leave. Richie decided to deserve this but knew that if he was going to make it through the party with his sanity intact he would have to give talking one last, honest try.

Que the Eddie’s birthday, the music box and that horribly awkward interaction. Eddie hadn’t even reacted to him, staring blankly as Richie tried to get him to accept the wrapped present. When he finally gave up and shoved it onto Eddie’s desk-retreating to the safety of his seat right after-Eddie ran out of class.

Now here he was sitting in the hay inside of Mike’s barn listening to the other Losers badger Ben about where Eddie was. At first they had just figured that he had gone to spend some time with Rick-that assumption left a slimy lining in Richie’s stomach-but as time crawled on things got more and more out of hand.

“Okay but where is he! It’s his party for God’s sake.” Bill said, pulling down some minor decorations that had been left from Stan’s birthday-four months ago. “Eddie wouldn’t just ditch us for Rick would he?”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Mike assured, soothing his boyfriend with a gentle hand on his back. “I went to talk to him after third period but he wasn’t there. Betty Ripson told me that he had ran out of class, I guess he never came back.”

“You share first period with him Richie, what in the hell happened?”

Stan’s question caught him off guard and the balloon he had been busying himself with slipped, letting out a long whine as it shot across the room-exhaling Richie’s breath. “I don’t know, he just left.” He defended, the image of Eddie gathering his things and bolting from class still fresh in his brain. “Ran right out.”

“Did you call home?” Beverly asked Ben, making Richie perk up a bit. “Did your mom say anything?”

“No, mom hasn’t seen him since this morning.” Ben answered with a shrug,

“I’m sorry, hold up.” Richie sputtered out, “Why would your mom know where he was?”

Beverly and Ben looked at one another, sharing a silent conversation before sighing and turning back to a very confused group of friends. “Eddie’s been living with me for the past month or so. Sonia kicked him out.”

Richie was on his feet then, “What the fuck?”

“What happened?” Stan asked, “And why didn’t anyone tell us! Why wouldn’t you of-”

“Eddie didn’t want to bother you guys with it.” Beverly interjected, “He said that it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Uh, it is a very big deal.” Bill shot back.

“We know.” Beverly replied defensively. “That’s what we said but shit has been all fucked up lately and it was obvious you guys picked Richie’s side so-”

“We didn’t pick any side.” Stan shot right back. “The Losers don’t have sides.”

“Bullshit.” She nipped, rolling her eyes and puffing out her cheeks in frustration. “Let’s all just be honest here, okay? Ever since that little fiasco between Eddie and Richie things have been falling apart, and you know what? You guys have been keeping things from us too so don’t act so high and mighty over there Stanley.”

Even Stan’s face went white he still managed to speak, “We haven’t been keeping anything from you.”

“Oh no? So you, Bill and Mike aren’t dating?” The three of them went silent under Beverly’s burning gaze and the tension was pulled taught. Crossing her arms along her chest she finished with a cold, “That’s what I thought.”

“We were going to tell you,” Mike started, frowning, “it’s just-well-it’s just-”

“It’s fine.” Ben said, cooling the flame that Beverly had started. “Like Bev said, things have been messed up lately. We were hoping this party help relieve some of the pressure but obviously it’s just making things worse.” Everyone became silent then and Richie wanted to just scream. All of this was his fault, and it gnawed at his skin like an angry monster leaving nasty gashes along his body.

Just when everything seemed lost a voice called them all back, “What’s going on?”

Six eyes shot to Eddie who stood at the entrance, his face twisted in confusion. It was enough to break the trance, and Beverly was on him in an instant. “Eddie! The birthday boy is here!”

“What took you so long?” Bill poked fun, although his question was a little jaded. “You’re two hours late!”

“Sorry.” Eddie defended, pulling himself out of Beverly’s hug only go be engulfed by Mike. “I went back home for some clothes.”

Ben shook his head, “Wh-but I called mom and she said-”

“No, I went back to get my stuff from my moms.” Eddie said, “Took a while but I won’t have to borrow your clothes anymore.”

“Oh shit.” Beverly gasped, “How did that go.”

“About as well as you would think.” Eddie laughed, it was hollow and cold and Richie saw though it instantly but the others apparently bought it because the party moved forward with that explanation. Drinks were served and the fire was lit and for just a few moments it was like the Losers were back to how they were supposed to be. Friends talked like they hadn’t talked in months, Mike joked and Ben laughed, Beverly argued and Stan rolled his eyes, Eddie even talked to Bill about his mom as if he hadn’t been left alone to die. It was perfect.

Except it was all fake.

Richie watched them, sitting back and letting things unfold. Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of the real Eddie, his face falling and eyes darkening in between conversations. It was like his mask was slipping and the only person who cared enough to notice was the only other person who wore one themselves. Eventually the Losers got drunk on the cheap beer, and things began to get sloppy. The only two that were still of sound mind was Eddie and the trashmouth who had been nursing the same beer the entire night.

With Mike leading Stan towards where Bill already lay inside of the barn Richie decided he couldn’t take it any longer and went to sit beside Eddie. Eddie immediately stiffened, keeping the conversation he was having with Ben going as long as he could before Beverly came to steal him away. Once Ben was gone Eddie stood and Richie caught him by the hand, sending a spark right to his chest. “Eddie wait, please.”

Eddie pulled his hand away and Richie almost whined. “What is it Richie?” He asked in a flat tone.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he replied, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“I-” Eddie started, looking back to where their friends were inside of the barn and shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It won’t be but a minute.” Richie whispered, his chest collapsing in on him. “I promise.”

Eddie shook his head and his face fell. “Promises mean nothing to me nowadays.”

“Eds-”

“Sorry.” Eddie said quickly, as if realizing his mask had been pulled back without his permission and Richie had seen his beaten and battered face. “No right, wh-what do you want to talk about?”

“You don’t have to do that with me.” Richie said softly, the flames light dancing along Eddie’s tanned skin painting him with it’s warm tones. He was just as beautiful as he had been that night, the night he had laid his heart on the floor so that Richie could stomp on it.

“Do what?”

“Pretend.” Richie answered, nearly crumbling under the weight of it all. Eddie must have seen himself in Richie’s gaze because he sat back down into the folding chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry.”

“For what?” Eddie asked, eyeing him.

Richie shrugged, “For what happened with your mom, for you feeling like you had to keep the secret from all of us, for breaking your heart, take your pick.”

Eddie scanned his face, obviously looking for some sign of humor or inconsistency but Richie knew there was none and Eddie pursed his lips. “None of those things are your fault.”

“We both know that is bullshit.” Richie said, sucking in his bottom lip to keep the blubbering to a minimum. “Let’s not kid ourselves.”

“Well, even if I tell you it’s okay does that help anything?” When Richie didn’t answer Eddie nodded, “Exactly so why are you apologizing? Can’t we just go back to pretending that we can tolerate being in the same room?”

“I don’t want to pretend anymore.” Richie said honestly, letting out the breath he didn’t know that he had been holding. “I’m tired of trying to be something I’m not.”

Eddie looked like he was about to cry, his nostrils flaring and lip trembling. “That’s fair I guess.” He sniffled and Richie’s heart ached, “I’ll keep away then, I can talk to Ben and Bev and figure out a way that we can keep our hangouts separate so that you don’t have to-”

“No that’s not what I meant.” Richie defended, shaking his head, “Eddie I don’t want to have separate hangouts or whatever. I think you misunderstood-” He noticed that Eddie had started to weep silently beside him, his tears falling onto his collar where they lay untouched. “No Eds, don’t cry-please don’t-”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie choked out, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t mean to-things have just so horrible lately and I just-I’m sorry.”

Richie moved from his chair and knelt in front of his friend, unable to keep away any longer he placed a reassuring hand on top of the smaller boys knees. Eddie didn’t even put up a fight, it seemed that the fire that Richie had admired about him had been put out weeks ago, now it seemed that what was left was a confused and broken boy unable to keep the tears in. “Alright, come on now if you keep crying then I’m gonna start to cry and you know I’m an ugly crier Eds, no one wants to see that.”

With a sniffle Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter in his chair and sucking in the snot that had began to descend from his nose. “God how could I forget, you look weird and pathetic when you cry.”

“Okay ouch,” Richie laughed, “That’s a low blow.”

Eddie laughed, the noise honest and pure as it rang in Richie’s ears. This made the trashmouth smile, his hands still on Eddie’s knees and Richie couldn’t bring himself to back away. It felt so right being this close, this entangled and Richie wished it could be always like this. “Eddie, I need to tell you that I-”

His words stopped as Eddie pushed his hands off of his knees, making him gape up in surprise. As Eddie stood Richie was forced to stand as well, a feeling of fear washing over him. “I should go, I don’t want to cause another fiasco because I can’t control myself.”

“Eds, no wait-”

“This has been great-well not not really great but uh-yeah.”

Eddie was leaving and Richie felt panic hit him full force. “Hey, no I’m not done talking and-”

“It’s fine Richie we are good.” Eddie lied, the lines on his face slowly forming his mask again. “I’m sorry I blubbered but it is my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to or-whatever the song says.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s fine.”

“Eddie I lied when I said I wasn’t a faggot.” Richie blurted, his confession lifting the hundred pound weight that had been on his chest. “I-I lied to you.”

“Y-You lied?” Eddie repeated, stopping in his tracks.

Richie nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“You lied and you are sorry.”

“Is there an echo in here?” Richie joked, biting his bottom lip.

He waited patiently for Eddie’s implosion, for the yelling and cursing, for the accusations and slurs but it never came and instead Eddie let out soft and harmonious “Huh.”

“That’s it?” He asked, shocked by the lack of response. The ground should be shaking with fury, the earth opening up to swallow Richie up whole and burn him in hellfire. None of that happened of course because at the end of the day Richie was still Richie. Loud, crass-laughable Richie and that was just that.

“Alright then.” Eddie muttered, turning heel to leave once again.

“What no comeback? No nothing?”

Eddie stopped again, only this time he didn’t turn as he said coldly, “What are you wanting here Richie? Are you wanting me to jump into your arms and praise you for telling the truth? Or maybe grovel at your feet for admitting you are indeed a faggot like myself?”

“No.” Richie felt his stomach drop, “But I expected more? Relief, maybe? Anger definitely.”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“Eds.”

“No.” Eddie cut sharply, “No, you know what just stop with the Eds. I’m so sick and tired of you calling me that like you don’t know it doesn’t fucking hurt.”

“But I-” There was a pause, a small one inside of him as the damn holding the truth broke. “I love you.”

“Is that right?” Eddie asked, his tone almost mocking in cadence. “Richie Tozier has decided that he loves me! Oh, call the presses! I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

“Why are you being like this?” Richie choked out, his self preservation tethering on the edge of agony. He moved so that he could see Eddie, trudging in front of him with a mixture of desperation and devastation. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” Eddie repeated, actually sounding shocked. His face twisted in what could only be described as pain as he nearly exploded with emotion, “You ruined me Richie, absolutely ruined me! Just because you had some kind of aphenemy does not fix anything! All it does is make me feel about a thousand times worse!”

The earth stood still then, the starless sky hanging above them, the only light coming from the dying fire that sizzled some feet away. With hearts hanging on a thin line Richie looked at his best friend, the love of his short pathetic life and felt absolutely broken. Eddie had never been fragile-contrary to Sonia’s beliefs-but it seemed that Richie had managed to shatter his very being.

“I shouted at my mom because of you, I called her a bitch because of you, I got kicked out of my house because of you! If not for Beverly’s pity I would be homeless! God, I gave you everything, did everything to get you to love me back and finally when I’m beginning to get my shit together you give me that god damn music box and tell me ‘oh just kidding I am a fucking faggot’.” His breathing was ragged and strained, his words begging for attention as they spilled from his lips. “So yeah, congratulations you won. You, Richie Tozier have won.”

They stood there staring at each other for an eternity, tears blurring Richie’s vision as he tried to see things from the other side. Finally Richie took a step forward, feeling a sudden puff of confidence hidden in his tears. “Eddie Kaspbrak, I fucking love you.” Eddie let out a long sigh but Richie was not detoured, “I loved you when we met and you told me I was gross and dirty. I loved you when you pushed me down into the mud for making fun of your fanny pack. I loved you when I tackled you in the barrens and you stopped talking to me for a week. I loved you when you punched Henry Bowers in the face for calling me a fairy and I fucking loved you when you laughed as he was breaking your arm.That night, when you told me you loved me back my father replied, not me. I have always loved you, and will always love you even if you turn me away and we never talk again but you deserve to know the truth so this is the truth.”

“I can never make up for what I did to you. I know this but that doesn’t mean I won’t try every goddamn day.” With a deep intake of air he allowed his heart roll in between them, ready for Eddie’s scuffed up Nike’s. “I, Richard Wentworth Tozier am gay and I’m in love with you, Edward Frank Kaspbrak.”

Eddie was crying but Richie wasn’t sure if it was from happiness or not so he did the most daring thing he could think of and stepped in close, brushing his lips against Eddie’s barely grazing the forbidden flesh. Eddie’s hands flew to his chest and Richie leaned in, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and diving in. It was a short kiss, but enough to taste the tears on Eddie’s skin, leaving his own lips salty and warm. “Eddie, I love you.” Richie whispered, leaning his forehead against Eddie’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“I-I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

Things weren’t fixed in that moment, not at all but Richie felt better than he had in months, setting free the love that had always been trapped inside. They would talk, discuss all the pain and agony that had been experienced between them but that was for another time, another place. For now they cried in each others arms as Eddie’s birthday bleed into the next day.

Life, it seemed, could indeed get better.

#it #requested #prompt #reddie #it's been forever #sorry man #hope it was worth the wait

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strangestdrabbles · 5 years

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It Just Hurts

A/N: i hope this is an enjoyable read,, i had fun writing it :o) the request was a great one @whatiswrongwithpeople

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader ((gender neutral))

Being back in Derry after the summer of 1989 was enough to cause a panicked ache to settle in Y/N’s stomach as a headache slowly winked in their right temple, the Chinese restaurant -Jade Of The Orient- looming over them in such a way that caused Y/N’s heartbeat to be heard in their ears and a darkness to settle in their peripherals. It was after wiping their clammy hands on their denim jack that they had gathered the courage to walk into the restaurant, the whiplash of sudden memories causing a queasy feeling to settle in the pit of their stomach but Y/N pushed the feeling down; not wanting to think about the utter fear overwhelming their nerves.

The restaurant was warm and welcoming when Y/N finally stepped in, trying to ignore the shake of their hands as brief snippets of memories overwhelmed them even though most were out of focus or fragments; not realising their name was being called until they saw someone standing in front of them.

“Y/N? It’s so good to see you.”

“M-Mike? Mike Hanlon?”

The smile on his face was bright in a way that eased the tension in their chest, a calm overtaking Y/N that they didn’t know was possible while being in Derry. They shared a hug that was warm and as if they were coming home, the smell of paperback books and sweet apples filling Y/N’s nose and then more memories surfaced -the sitting with Stan and bird watching, listening to Mike’s stories that his grandfather told him, going to the arcade with the losers and enjoying warm Derry weather- throwing them through a loop before they parted; Mike quick to lead Y/N into the booked area then look surprised when they stopped in the entrance upon seeing Bill Denbrough.

The air was still as Y/N and Bill made eye contact before a frown subtly appeared on the man’s face.

“Oh h-hi Y/N.”

It was civil enough but Y/N could hear the lack of friendliness within his tone which caused a lump to form in their throat, regretting the decision to come back almost immediately even if they did make an oath; an urge to escape almost too great; not noticing Eddie arrive due to the sound of static ringing in their ears. They weren’t able to verbalise an answer instead deciding to just nod and quirk the side of their mouth to be polite, looking away due to a voices travelling and coming face to face with Ben, Beverly and Richie.

“Didn’t think I would see your ass around here again Trashmouth.” Y/N said while a smirk settled on their lips, running into his arms when he opened them, a feeling of comfort settling in their chest.

“Well how could I help myself when you were going to be here.” Richie said, holding Y/N close for a moment before letting go slightly.

“Y/N you look good.” Beverly said while hugging them from behind, the moment sweet and cherished before the group occupied seats around the round table, Bill and Y/N sitting next to each other but Bill made sure his body was turned away just enough to not have to engage in conversation; Y/N’s stomach churning before doing their best to push down the intense feeling of disappointment and hurt.

The walk through Derry was one that had Y/N’s heart beating through their chest as an anxious fear overwhelmed them, boarded up stores of once popular places and hang out spots that brought up faded polaroid memories as people went about their day; children running in groups while loudly talking and laughing without a care in the world.

It was then that a memory came back to them suddenly in stark clarity, one of an argument between them and Bill after the fallout with Richie and all that Y/N could do while standing in the middle of the sidewalk was attempt to try and not become too overwhelmed. They didn’t notice that the sidewalk had cleared until they heard a familiar voice say their name.

“Y/N.”

Bill was never more than civil with Y/N even when they were both on the cusps of being teenagers, the others more friendly and warm towards them which allowed for feeling like they were apart of a group that was like a family; thankful for all of them -even Bill- and what the summer brought, Pennywise the terrifying exception.

“Oh Bill, hi.”

The air felt tense while Y/N attempted to calm their heart down, not wanting to entertain the idea of a conversation with Bill as they knew how it would end; with Y/N feeling completely numb but hiding it behind a small smile.

“I really didn’t think you were going to come back to Derry. After I got back into town and started remembering things you were never in my memories, like the rest of the Losers. You mustn’t have been that important if my memories never had you there, I mean are you sure you were a part of the Losers Club? I know the rest are nice to you but honestly it’s because you turned up and just put yourself there, that doesn’t mean you’re a part of this or a part of our group. From the little I do remember about you it was just you never leaving us alone, wanting friends but never finding your own.”

It was like having someone drive a knife right into their heart after the monologue, their hands shaking while trying to gather their thoughts and not cry. Words escaped Y/N for a moment as a lump settled uncomfortably in their throat, blinking quickly before exhaling slowly to give themselves time to calm down.

“I was affected by Pennywise that summer just like you and the others. I was plagued by fear and thought it would never end. I helped you with your mission at Neibolt even though it was one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced. I have the jagged scar on my hand like the rest of you and I made the oath. Don’t you dare tell me I’m nothing more than a tag along, that I wasn’t wanted because I am just as necessary and needed as any of you.”

Y/N didn’t get mad like Bill expected but instead stayed calm, articulated their words clearly and before they walked away to recollect their time in Derry they made eye contact with Bill.

“I thought this time around would be different and that you would be different but I guess not. After this I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again so be glad.”

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latestnews2018-blog · 6 years

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There Were Zero Things Better This Week Than Beyoncé's Braid

New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/there-were-zero-things-better-this-week-than-beyonces-braid/

There Were Zero Things Better This Week Than Beyoncé's Braid

Welcome to Good Stuff, HuffPost’s weekly recommendation series devoted to the least bad things on and off the internet.

Beyoncé has had a hell of a week. She was granted full control over Vogue magazine’s coveted September cover and used her power to hire the first black photographer to shoot the cover in 126 years. This was before she dragged the fuck out of her husband’s former mistress while performing onstage during ANOTHER sold-out world tour before she got her nails done at 1 a.m. as we lessers slept.

But her best moment came during the On The Run II tour stop in Philadelphia, when our Queen Beyoncé resurrected her high braid — a mythical creature that first graced us with its presence during the Tidal x 1015 concert in 2016. In one memorable moment, the braid takes flight, swinging to the left before floating briefly in front of its master’s face. Then it snaps to the right and drapes itself over her shoulder. Even the braid bows down, despite having the capability to slice Becky With The Good Hair in half. Wow.

How the braid whips, bounces, spins, jerks, twerks and prances through the air with a distinct choreography that, somehow, moves in tandem with Beyoncé is something I still haven’t figured out. But I am nothing more than a mere mortal gazing upon a goddess and her agile, all-powerful braid. I’m convinced that the braid is the last Infinity Stone. It will save the universe from Thanos, climate change, income inequality, racism, sexism and all other social ills since the goddess wielding it is a black woman dedicated to improving the lives of marginalized groups.

Do you now understand why your fave could never? ― Julia Craven

Henry Cavill’s Magical Beard In ‘Mission: Impossible ― Fallout’

my sexual orientation is henry cavill loading his biceps so hard he actually grows more beard and forms a pocket in his shirt pic.twitter.com/lo9tN3D8WR

— little king trashmouth (@masonjar92) August 2, 2018

One time in high school, I tried to grow a beard instantaneously. Everyone else laughed and said it couldn’t be done. After puckering my face a while in an attempt to squeeze out a follicle without anything happening, I started to believe them. At least, until the recent release of “Mission: Impossible ― Fallout.” From that movie comes the GIF of Henry Cavill cocking his arms and magically growing a beard. He even grows a breast pocket for good measure, like a real gentleman.

Since then, my life has changed.

I want to say thanks, Henry Cavill, for giving bare-faced high school kids hope. I want to tell you that all the grief you’ve gotten for the weird CGI cover-up in “Justice League” was worth it.

But mostly I just wanna say, “Eat my shorts, Class of 2006!” I told you it could be done. (And while I’m at it, to my childhood development class teacher: I know I said I was sorry for drinking that extra grape juice box, but I’m not. I wanted to drink it. I like grape juice. And it was delicious.) ― Bill Bradley

The RHONY Boat Ride From Hell

This week, “Real Housewives of New York” fans finally got to see the long-awaited “boat ride from hell.”

There is a particular pleasure in watching arguably terrible people you alternately love and loathe experience the terror of a clunking mini-yacht getting swept up in the choppy waters of Colombia. Sonja Morgan and Ramona Singer volleyed between screaming up at the sky and clutching each other. Carole Radziwill vomited into a champagne bucket and later said the boat was scarier than being a foreign correspondent during wartime. Bethenny Frankel held Radziwill’s hair back and tried to avoid being hit with flying deck furniture. Luann de Lesseps hit the floor for cover. Dorinda Medley frantically searched for life jackets (there was only one) as she yelled that she smelled smoke. Tinsley Mortimer and her perfect french braids were unfazed. Afterward, the housewives were safe, but they all had diarrhea.

Some might call watching the boat ride from hell a guilty pleasure, but I feel no guilt. As Vulture’s Bryan Moylan put it: “This is the apocalypse that we hath wrought and it is glorious and it is still not enough.” ― Emma Gray

A Good Week In Music

This was a really good music week. NPR kicked it off with a project that ranked “the top 200 songs by 21st century women+” ― an awesome cross-genre compilation of music from the last 18 years that I’ve spent most of the week cycling through. As a country fan, I was happy to see so many women from a genre that usually ignores them get their due, and while I naturally have some small quibbles (I might have chosen different songs by Miranda Lambert and Kacey Musgraves), the list overall was a great installment in NPR’s ongoing effort to celebrate pop music in “more inclusive ― and accurate ― ways.”

Then, on Friday morning, a friend on Twitter pointed me toward “To The Sunset,” a new album from Americana/folk/country crossover artist Amanda Shires. “To The Sunset” is yet another album that doesn’t fit neatly into any single pop genre ― Shires called it “futuristic” in an interview with The Boot this week, and has openly talked about breaking from the traditionalism of both country and Americana. You can hear that sort of sound from the opening notes of “Parking Lot Pirouette,” the album’s opening track. And “Break Out The Champagne” might wind up as one of my favorite songs of the summer.

“I don’t usually toot my own horn, but it’s a pretty good record,” Shires said in The Boot interview. I’ve only made it all the way through once as of this writing, but so far, “pretty good” is a pretty big understatement. ― Travis Waldron

A Dog Dancing With A Frilly Pink Umbrella

Dog Umbrella Dance pic.twitter.com/K3KUvO692g

— Nature is Amazing 🌴 (@AMAZlNGNATURE) August 2, 2018

Apparently this video is from 1999, if a YouTube account called ViralHog is to be believed, but I didn’t experience this jovial prancing pup until this week, so it counts. There are so many good things about this: his frilly pink umbrella, his jaunty hops, the fact that a Twitter account called “Nature Is Amazing” posted this. The best part, though, are the very stilted (and fancy!) crossover steps he takes toward the end of the video — the whole thing is 15 seconds, so don’t worry, you don’t have to wait long. What a good boy. Nature is amazing. ― Jillian Capewell

LeBron James’ School

Allison Farrand/Getty Images

LeBron James addresses the media following the grand opening of the I Promise school on July 30, 2018, in Akron, Ohio.

The best thing I saw this week was the rollout of LeBron James’ new school in his hometown of Akron, Ohio. The I Promise School, as it’s known, isn’t a private school, and it’s not a charter school. It’s a straight public school, but with exceptionally progressive ideas meant to help children in the same position James once found himself.

“I know these kids basically more than they know themselves,” he said this week. “Everything that they’re going through as kids, I know.”

As such, the I Promise School focuses on kids who are behind their peer group, and it tries to help their parents and guardians, too, with GED classes, job placement services and more. School days will be longer, as will school years, but that’s to keep the kids out of trouble. Transport is free. So is breakfast and lunch. Each kid gets a free bike and helmet. And if a child successfully graduates from James’ school, he’ll pay for his or her tuition at the University of Akron. Somehow, all that still doesn’t come close to explaining everything about this school, which came as a much-needed dose of inspiration for me this week. ― Maxwell Strachan

A Very Pretty Song About What A Disappointment I Am

Although Pitchfork tried its best to make me ashamed of it, I adored the dreamy debut Wet album, “Don’t You” so much that it dominated my 2016 Spotify wrap-up playlist. The indie pop group’s sophomore album, “Still Run,” dropped last month ― in the interim, the band went through a crisis that resulted in a lineup change and a romantic break-up between two members ― and I have now gotten around to being obsessed with one of its gorgeous singles, “Lately,” a wistful yet full-throated artistic break-up song with lilting verses that make my insides feel like they’re floating free in a sea of salt tears.

“Lately” is about trying to make someone feel useful while dealing with the reality that they’re not useful. “Lately” is about having a selfish boyfriend, maybe, or a lazy co-worker. “Lately” is about giving everything you have to give and then giving a little more and then saying “enough.” Band leader Kelly Zutrau’s voice alternately whispers and throbs; when it throbs, I feel like an invisible wire is tugging at my heart, trying to pull it out from behind my rib cage.

I listen to it all the time: on the subway, while elbowing through tourists in Union Square, while washing the dishes, while sitting at my desk. I listen to Zutrau croon, “I’ve been bending over backwards just to make you feel like you’re wanted / I use up all my energy just to make sure that you know you’re important.”

I imagine that this is what my editor thought when I sent her a rough draft that ends “TK ending, any thoughts?” and then followed up with a Slack message complaining that no one takes my writing seriously. My eyes grow damp. I softly warble, “So what have you done for me lately?” The Union Square tourists give me odd looks. I don’t care. That is the power of this song. ― Claire Fallon

‘The O.C.’, 15 Years Later

It’s been 15 years (!!!) since “The O.C.” premiered on Fox, and this story in The Washington Post was a delightful nostalgia trip that examines the role indie music played on the show. There are lots of fun tidbits in that story (who knew Rooney was named after the principal in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”?) but mostly, it’s just a fun look back at the melodramatic music that served as both the soundtrack to the show and to the high school years of many American teens who dreamed of living rich in California ― myself included.

Can anyone listen to The Dandy Warhols now without thinking of Seth Cohen bopping through his house in a bathrobe and a graphic tee? ― Paige Lavender

‘Eighth Grade’ Opening In Wide Release

August is always a spotty month for movies, left to catch the summer-blockbuster runoff and pave a fresh road toward Oscar season. This week’s big studio releases — the action comedy “The Spy Who Dumped Me,” the YA sci-fi knockoff “The Darkest Minds” and the melancholic kiddy caper “Christopher Robin” — are mostly disappointments. So instead, you should see “Eighth Grade.”

Centered on the social frailty of a 13-year-old (promising newcomer Elsie Fisher), Bo Burnham’s directorial debut has been steadily expanding to more theaters over the past few weeks, and now it’s nationwide, poised to delight everyone who enters its orbit. Here, middle school is just as terrifying as anything you’ve seen in “Hereditary” or “A Quiet Place” — but the movie makes up for it with a smokin’ hot dad (Josh Hamilton), salient commentary about the trials of social media, a timeless portrait of adolescent anxieties and a note-perfect music cue from the one and only Irish castle dweller known as Enya. “Eighth Grade” is the “Lady Bird” of 2018, ushering in a month full of astute films about teen girls (see: “Skate Kitchen,” “Madeline’s Madeline”). Don’t miss it. ― Matthew Jacobs

A Band Called Let’s Eat Grandma

Let’s Eat Grandma ― an experimental “sludge pop” group comprised of lifelong BFFs Jenny Hollingworth and Rosa Walton, both 19 ― released their second album, dubbed “I’m All Ears,” in early July.

A huge fan of their first album “I, Gemini,” a fairy tale-inflected freak show for the ears, I was excited to press play. The first song sounds like a threesome between Robyn and the “Phantom of the Opera” duo ― i.e. MY TWO FAVORITE THINGS.

The album perpetuates LEG’s predilection for twisting people’s perceptions of girliness to uncanny extremes. (The musicians are known to, at concerts, flip their waist-length hair over their faces and perform secret handshakes like haunted twins.) “I’m All Ears” continues to explore teenage girlhood using fantasy and horror as lenses ― or in their case, kaleidoscopes. ― Priscilla Frank

The Future Of Film Is Female

This week marked “The Future of Film is Female,” a fun series of films hosted by New York’s Museum of Modern Art, featuring women directors and creators. The organizers, Nitehawk Cinema’s Caryn Coleman and MoMA’s Rajendra Roy, did a good job picking out important, up-and-coming filmmakers to spotlight. I was lucky enough to see “Landline,” the charming 2017 comedy about family, fidelity and growing up, as well as “Bar Bahar” (“In Between”), about three female flatmates in Tel Aviv whose attitude and togetherness pushes them through tough times. “Landline,” in particular, sparkled for its snappy writing (by a woman) and its lovable lead actress (Jenny Slate). ― Anna Krakowsky

Patti Smith Eating Carrot Salad Over And Over Again

Instagram

I check the hashtag #carrotsaladatumas on a weekly basis. It’s never updated that often, but I labor in the pursuit of a digital Patti Smith sighting that warms my otherwise cold, depressive heart. In each of the photos associated with the tag, Patti appears at a Far Rockaway cafe alongside an unassuming bowl of electric orange wisps. A profoundly well-coiffed man sits next to her. It’s always Klaus. (Klaus Biesenbach, the violently handsome former museum director of New York’s MoMA PS1, who’s headed to LA for a fancy new gig.) And his caption is usually the same: “good to have a weekly routine.” Goddamnit, he’s right. ― Katherine Brooks

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