#1000 miles for an ozzy show???

[bonnie-toyour-clyde]

What's your favourite headcanon of something that happened in the Impala?

Not a specific event, but I often think about them having loud, unapologetic car sex especially in the early seasons/preseries! Its canon that they would hustle pool to scrape by so I think a lot about them, like, playing into the stereotype that they’re just good for nothing fags at these dive bars in small towns (letting people talk shit and act tuff and what have you) and then wiping! the! floor! with every last guy in the joint and making them look like idiots in front of their friends before going to the parking lot and making sure everyone know’s they’re fucking nasty lol

I’m talking Baby bouncing on her shocks, windows cracked so their moans carry, gravel crunching with the force - just to twist the knife a little for them. Also I imagine everyone walking back to their cars either calling them slurs or very pointedly looking at their feet and walking by quickly, pretending its not happening (i cant tell which is funnier)

I have a fic in the works about this, I just think its so much fun to imagine idk

Thank u sm for this ask !! I’m having so much fun reading everyone else’s hcs about What Happens In Baby and it’s definitely inspiring me to write more 🖤

[babybrotherism]

they drove 1000 miles for an ozzy show :(((( do you think they got floor seats, maybe sprung for the meet and greet? did sam buy dean a shirt?

[deangenchallenge]

Time for Round 11 of Dean Gen Challenge! This time the theme is MUSIC

Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

Music was a big part of Dean's life. From humming Metallica when nervous to singing his heart out on the stage. From airdrumming behind the wheel, to his musings at the piano, to doing the Macarena. From rockstar au, music teacher au or world-famous violinist au to that 1000-miles drive to an Ozzy show. Theme songs and quoting musicals. Classic Rock, Taylor Swift and Hey Jude for a lullaby. Dean's favorite songs and the tunes that remind us of him.

You can interpret the theme of Music any way you want. These are just a few extra ideas to help start you off, but you don't have to use any of them.

How it works

On the first day of each month, we’ll provide a theme that you’ll explore in your works in relation to Dean

You can sign up at any point throughout the month, simply by reblogging this post and tagging it with #entered

You have until the last day of the month to publish your work. Tag it with #deangenchallenge and mention @deangenchallenge to make sure we find it

We’ll be reblogging all works to this blog; if you don’t see your work reblogged after five days, send us an ask with a link to it

There is no penalty for dropping out. This is a no pressure challenge; if you can’t finish the work, try again next month with the new theme

You might combine this challenge with other events and bingos, as long as their rules allow it

The last day to publish your work for this round is April 30th

When posting your work to ao3, add it to our collection deangenchallenge

Feel free to reblog to signal boost even if you’re not entering! :)

Work requirements below the cut

Work content

Dean Winchester must be the focus of the work, no putting him in the supporting role

No ships as this is a gen challenge

Platonic and familial relationships are fine

Passing hook-ups, similar to those Dean would engage in during case on the show, are also okay — they can’t however be the main focus of the works

All works must match the given theme but you’re free to interpret it however you want it, both literally or metaphorically

Mature/explicit content and dark themes are allowed, but must be properly warned for; visual explicit works must be hosted elsewhere and linked to on tumblr, not to violate tumblr’s content guidelines

No sexual content involving minors

No RPF or reader-insert works — the focus of this challenge is Dean

Works using quotes about Dean coming from Jensen, other actors, or the show’s creators are fine

You can submit more than one work for each theme

Work types

Various types of works are welcome, such as fanfic, fanart, graphics, gifsets, fanvids, fanmixes, fic rec lists

Minimum requirements (there is no maximum)

Fanfic: at least 500 words (remember to use read more when posting the whole fic to tumblr)

Fanart/graphics: at least 1 art piece, width 540px

Gifsets: at least 3 gifs

Fanmix: at least 8 songs + description of how they relate to Dean and the theme

Fanvid: min 30 sec

Podfic: read, not tts, fic of min 500 words

Fic rec list: at least 4 fics written by others + commentary on how they fit the theme

all podfic’d and rec’d fics must also fit the content rules of the challenge

Questions? Feel free to send us an ask

[jarienn972]

A Simple Spell - Chapter Eleven

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

I managed to finish up this latest chapter of my @cssns​ story before the insanity of the holiday starts and it picks up right where the last chapter left off with Emma and David heading out to search for the missing Killian Jones. My original plan had this as part of Chapter 10, but I decided to expand it and make it a stand-alone chapter. Emma's anxious to locate Killian but there’s going to be a surprising clue along the way that may provide a link to the past.

Many thanks again to @cocohook38​ for the amazing artwork above and to @lassluna​ for all of her beta reading assistance along the way

Read from the beginning on Tumblr: One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten      Also on  AO3 and FF.net

In her short residence here in Storybrooke, Emma had only been this far down Highway 3 once - when she had been in pursuit of an intoxicated driver who struck a pedestrian in front of the church. She knew it was a narrow, two-lane road that meandered through the farmland on the outskirts of town before asphalt transitioned to gravel approximately three miles beyond Anton's farm. She was also well aware of the rumor that a fae community existed out here amongst the trees, but Emma was convinced that story was pure fiction. Even in this magical town, sometimes it as hard to draw a line between reality and fantasy.

Halfway into their drive out to the rendezvous point, Emma's phone rang with the return call from Belle. David asked if Emma would utilize the speakerphone so that he could hear the librarian's response as well.

"Good morning, Belle," Emma answered, immediately pressing the speaker button. "Thank you so much for returning my call so quickly."

"Of course, Emma. I would have called sooner but it took me a bit to find all of the information that you asked for," Belle replied.

"No problem," David assured her. "You're right on time. We're just about to meet with the search party, but since we're going to run out of cell service soon, what were you able to find?"

"Well, there are three registered properties with structures listed in the town records. There are a couple of other parcels of land with registered owners, but since they didn't have any dwellings or other structures registered, I focused on the ones that did," Belle explained over the growing static. "I emailed you and Emma the list with what details I could locate."

"Perfect. Any idea what sort of structures we're talking about?" David asked.

"They're listed as dwellings so my guess would be cabins or small houses. All were listed as being less than 1000 square feet," Belle told him.

"That's a huge help, Belle. I'll have Emma take a look at the email since I'm driving."

"Please let me know if you need anything else. Oh, and Emma - I'm still researching what you asked about your mother. I'll let you know if I can find that answer anywhere," Belle promised.

"Thanks for everything, Belle," Emma replied as she disconnected the call, her service signal down to a single bar.

"See if you can get that email opened up before the signal disappears," David instructed, as if Emma hadn't already thought of that.

"Already on it," Emma stated as she pulled up her work email folder and found the message from with its attachment. Her phone display still showed that single bar as she managed to download the file before service vanished. "Got it!"

She waited until David eased the Sheriff cruiser to the side of the gravel road in front of the Gardner's farmhouse since the tiny screen was too difficult to read while bouncing around on the crumbling road surface. When she could finally take a look at it, she hesitated for a minute, instead surveying the field and the people gathered in it. David was already scrambling out of the car to coordinate with the search party and she recognized most of the faces. Regina's boyfriend, Robin and his best friend, John Sherwood were here and she also spotted Leroy and a couple of the other miners. Graham pulled up and parked behind the cruiser in his 4x4 that would aid them with off-road capabilities.

"What did Belle's email reveal?" David asked her as he poked his head back into the car wondering why his sister was still sitting in the passenger seat.

"I'll know in a second," she replied. "It was kinda hard to hold onto my phone, let alone read the screen, when you were bouncing us all over the place. Did you try to hit every pothole on the highway?"

"Yeah, it was intentional," David huffed. "Seriously though, before we set off out there," he pointed his index finger in the direction of the treeline, "I want to know what sort of buildings we could encounter and where they are in relation to our search area."

"Just as Belle said, there are three dwellings listed. No surprise that one of them is John Sherwood's cabin. The second is a dwelling of unknown dimensions listed as under construction. Sounds like a potentially good place to hide somebody you don't want found…" But just as Emma made that comment, her gaze fell onto the third property listing, a moderately sized dwelling of approximately 900 square feet, but it wasn't the physical description or the location that drew her attention, it was the name of the registered owner.

Ozmund Welch.

She tried to shake off the coincidence, but she couldn't. Was there a correlation between this property's owner, Ozmund Welch, and her mother's mysterious suitor, Ozzie? Ava had described Ozzie as having vanished in a puff of smoke the moment she'd kissed him, but had he actually been real? Real enough to have built a cabin in the dense woods on the outskirts of Storybrooke or was the name similarity merely chance?

"Something wrong, sis?" David's question brought her back to the present. "You planning to stay in the car or are you going to get out of there and tell me about that third property?"

"I'm coming… Just had a little bit of weird deja vu."

"About searching the woods for your would-be pirate boyfriend?"

"Really, David?" Emma wasn't pleased with her brother referring to Killian as a pirate yet again. "Once and for all, he's not a pirate and no - that isn't what triggered it. This name… The third property owner listed is what caught my eye and gave me a weird feeling - someone named Ozmund Welch."

"Okay… what's so strange about that?"

"When I was leafing through mom's journal, she referred to the other man she was dating as Ozzie. He was the one she ended up choosing and caused her to lose the challenge, and of course, her powers. Ozmund. Ozzie. They sound a lot alike and it's a weird coincidence…"

"And you think there might be some correlation?"

"I don't really know," she sighed, knowing the probability was slim considering the rest of the information Belle had provided. "There's only one big problem with it - according to Belle, the structure was built and registered in the 1920s."

"I don't think your mother was really in to older men…"

"No. Certainly not based on the description she gave in her journal entries."

"Father and son maybe?" David suggested as Emma clambered out of the cruiser.

"I guess that's possible. Or it's possible that it really is just a coincidence." She tucked her phone away into her jacket pocket as she pushed the car door closed. "It's just weird…"

"Then why don't you and I take that particular property? If you've got any sort of suspicion about that property, we'll go with it."

"Okay. According to the property listing, it's located about a quarter of a mile from John's cabin. I copied all of the coordinates into my phone."

"Alright then. Let me go hand out assignments and get this search and rescue underway. That's in one of the more remote sectors so how about you go commandeer a couple of those ATVs?"

**********

Emma had never really considered herself to be the outdoorsy type so this trek through the forests of Eastern Maine riding an all-terrain vehicle was quite out of her element. By the time they reached the edge of the Welch property, they could both see the single-story wooden frame house that, at first glance, appeared well-kept, but vacant. As they got closer to the house, they began to see signs of recent occupation. Weeds had been cleared from the dirt road to the entrance as well as from a path to a small shed beyond the house.

With a reminder from David that they couldn't enter the property without permission from the resident or a search warrant, they parked the ATVs and started surveying the perimeter. Little seemed to have changed about the premises since it had been built nearly a century ago. They saw a neat stack of firewood next to the shed but no visible power lines connected to the building. Whoever resided out here definitely enjoyed living off the grid. The windows of the cozy house were covered with decades worth of grime, making it difficult to peer into the interior. If someone was living here, cleaning their windows to allow sunlight inside wasn't a priority which led credence to the probability that it was currently uninhabited.

"Looks vacant," David said as the siblings regrouped near the front door. "But it's almost impossible to see inside."

"Something isn't right," Emma insisted. "It may look vacant, but that wood pile over there isn't overgrown with weeds. There isn't any smoke rising out of that chimney right now, but my gut says there will be signs of a recent fire."

"Kinda hard to determine that from out here," David reminded her. "And one of the neighbors could be using the wood."

"Are you serious, David? Do you really think that someone out here would want to traipse through the woods to stack wood at an abandoned house? That makes no sense whatsoever."

"Just offering up possibilities."

"Well, it's pretty obvious that the bigger possibility is that someone has been secretly living here. It's rustic, but that doesn't mean it isn't livable. I don't know if Ozmund Welch is still living out here in the boondocks, but I'm quite sure someone is."

"Don't tell me - your gut is now telling you that this would be a good place to hide someone?"

"What? You don't think so? Come on, Dave - it's in the middle of nowhere and looks abandoned… Where would you hide a person you don't want found?"

"Em - you know the rules…"

"And this is a magical town where most rules don't even apply! David, my intuition is telling me that there's more to this place than meets the eye."

"You can feel your Captain boyfriend nearby?"

"I wish my instincts were that specific," she scowled at him, "almost as much as I wished that the locator spell came with GPS coordinates. I just know that there's something very wrong here…"

David pondered her plea for a moment. As Sheriff, he was tasked with upholding the law, not breaking it, but at the same time, if Captain Jones was here, being held against his will, rescuing the missing man should take priority. It was just that it all rested on his sister's gut feelings, not actual evidence…

"Okay, okay," he relented. "If you think this place is suspicious, let's go find out. Can you get that door open or were you planning to break it down?"

"Very funny," she scoffed as she withdrew her wand from inside her jacket. "Good thing I brought this along. Pretty sure a little magic can open that lock…" With a flick of her wrist and a swish of her wand, she recited the Latin phrase to open the door. "Recludo!"

David led the way once the door was unlocked, inching it open cautiously as he scanned the interior with his flashlight held in his left hand and his weapon clutched in his right. Emma followed at his heels, sweeping the beam of her flashlight around what looked to be a combination living room, kitchen and dining room. The room was sparsely furnished. A faded, but garishly upholstered sofa occupied a space facing the fireplace and a matching chair with worn wooden arms sat beside it. On the opposite wall, there was a makeshift kitchen featuring a sink with an ancient water pump, an old fashioned wood-fired stove and a two door cabinet hanging over the sink. At the other end of the building from where they stood, there was a wooden table with two flanking chairs and a narrow hallway leading to two doorways.

Emma took a few steps towards the fireplace while David immediately headed to the first of the two doors in the rear of the house. Her eyes were drawn to the mantle where a set of random books sat atop it, flanked by two heavy stone bookends. She recognized a few of the titles as books she'd been forced to read in school but there were others written in languages she didn't recognize. She also instantly noticed rectangular voids amongst the dust and cobwebs as though something had been removed recently.

She held no doubt that someone had been here.

David pushed open the first of the doors off of the rear hallway revealing a small, unoccupied bedroom containing only a spartan double bed and a plain, five drawer pine chest of drawers. He discovered the second door led to a primitive bathroom with a pedestal sink and an old claw foot bath tub. There was no toilet visible so the well-maintained path behind the house meant that the shed was likely an outhouse. In neither room did he find evidence of anyone being held unwillingly. Maybe Emma's instinct had been wrong…

"There's no one here," David announced as he strolled back into the living room area.

"Someone's been here," Emma assured him, pointing to the mantle. "Stuff has been recently taken off of that mantle. There are several areas with no dust."

"So? Someone might still be using the cabin, but Emma, there isn't anyone here right now, willing or unwilling."

"We're missing something," she insisted, combing her fingers through her hair in frustration. "We have to be…"

"It's a pretty small place, Em," David reminded her as he crossed through the center of the room toward his sister. "What do you think we might possibly be missing?" Emma shrugged as she turned to face the front door, ready to concede defeat - until David stepped onto the worn, heavy wool rug in the middle of the floor. He took two strides onto the rug when Emma's alert ears picked up a distinct change in the sound his footsteps were making.

"David - do that again," she ordered as she spun to face him.

"Huh? Do what again?"

"Take a step backwards, then forward again," she instructed her bewildered brother.

"Why?"

"Just humor me," she said as David rolled his eyes skeptically. He shifted his weight back one step and then another towards Emma, this time noticing the change in tone.

"There's something hollow here," he announced, tapping his foot a few times on the spot to confirm what they'd both heard.

"That's what I thought," Emma smiled as she hurried over to David. He kicked the well-trodden rug away to reveal a recessed trap door concealed beneath. "Well, well… what do we have here?"

"A trap door," David stated the obvious. "Maybe there's a basement or an old root cellar underneath?"

"What a great place to hide someone," Emma said, repeating her earlier words. David ignored her as he stooped to grasp the reinforced edge of the plank trap door. Emma kept her weapon trained into the void below as he raised the panel but there was nothing visible in the dark space except a rough-hewn wooden staircase leading deeper into the recess. Emma directed her light into the inky blackness of the stairwell, seeing that there was a narrow panel door at the bottom which was secured with a rusty padlock. "I see a doorway down there with a lock on it."

"I'm guessing you can open that one too?"

"Piece of cake," she grinned hopefully as they descended the steps. Reaching the bottom, Emma tucked her weapon into her hip holster, trading it for her wand while David maintained a tight grip on both flashlight and weapon. Her magic made quick work of the padlock and as David kept the flashlight beam trained on the door, she eased it open. A tiny room bathed in darkness lay beyond the wooden door and Emma crinkled her nose in disgust as the wafting odors of damp cement and moldy earth assaulted her senses. But she was also smelling faint traces of something else in the mix - the coppery scent of blood and the sweetness of the rum she'd partaken of last night. "Killian?" She called out to him. "Killian? Are you here?"

She heard no response as she retrieved her own flashlight, switching it on to find the limp figure curled up on the dingy concrete floor in the center of the room.

"Killian!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees on the dusty floor beside her unconscious friend, placing the flashlight on the floor next to her knees. He was lying on his right side and even in the dim light, she noticed something shiny was protruding from his left shoulder. She wasn't entirely sure, but it appeared to be his hook.

"Is that Captain Jones?" David queried, keeping a watchful eye on the trapdoor above as Emma checked on the person locked in the dark cellar.

"Yes and I think he's hurt. It's too damned dark in here, though." She needed more light and she remembered one of the first spells Zelena had taught her. Grabbing her wand, she held it above her head and recited "Inlumino!" Instantly, a series of twinkling, floating orbs began to swirl overhead, illuminating the dank room so that she could positively identify Killian and take a preliminary assessment of his injuries.

"It's him!" she shouted to David.

"What's that sticking out of his shoulder?" David wondered, staring quizzically at the glint of shiny metal. "It looks like some kind of hook…"

"It is a hook," she stated. "Killian sometimes wears it as a prosthetic and somebody plunged it pretty deep into his shoulder." David wanted to make a comment so badly about a ship captain wearing a hook for a hand, but he held his tongue as he recognized the concern evident on his sister's face. She had carefully rolled Captain Jones into his back and was pressing her index and middle fingers against his neck. "He's unconscious. He's got a pulse, but it's weak and a little slow. His skin is pretty cool to the touch so I'm pretty sure he's been in this cold basement for hours."

"Is he breathing?"

Not sensing any rise or fall of Killian's chest, Emma leaned in closer to his face, hoping she would feel the warmth of his breath exhaled against her cheek. As she lowered her face above Killian's slightly agape mouth, for a split second, her lips brushed his and she felt a little spark. It wasn't unlike the static shock you'd get when touching a metal surface after running across a carpeted floor in your socks but in the heat of the moment, it never dawned on her that she shouldn't be experiencing any static electricity shocks down here. She mentally dismissed any thoughts of the shock as she felt a soft puff of air against her skin.

"He's breathing, but just barely," she informed David who was immediately on the radio calling for a remote rescue unit. There was no way the two of them were going to be able to maneuver an unconscious man out of that root cellar and back to the road without assistance from the other teams. "Hang in there, Killian. Help's on the way," she assured her friend as she gently caressed his stubbled cheek

[curiouscastarchive]

On April 21st, 1967 the 100th million GM vehicle rolled off the line at The Paint in Janesville -  a blue two door caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have. Because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car - no - the most important object in pretty much the whole universe. She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex wives and three blocked arteries, On weekends he’d drive around giving bibles to the poor, ‘gettin folks ready for judgement day’. That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did I bet they’d smile. After Sal died she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used car lot in Lawerence where a young marine bought her on impulse, that is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that’s where this story begins. And here is where it ends. 

The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have, and a few they don’t. But none of that stuffs important. THIS is the stuff that’s important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray, it’s still stuck there. The legos that Dean shoved in the vents, to this day the heat comes on and they can hear ‘em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs, really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up he made sure all these little things stayed, cause it’s the blemishes that make her BEAUTIFUL. The Devil doesn’t know, or care, what kind of car the boys drive. In between jobs Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day - sometimes a week if they were lucky. They’d pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work but now he hustles pool; like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove 1000 miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jay Hawks game. And when it was clear, they’d park her in the middle of no where, sit on the hood and watch the stars for hours, without even saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never had a roof and four walls, but they were never, in fact, homeless. 

That’s a good line.

Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a key board can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you they’re a raging pain in the ass.

This is the last Dean and Bobby will see each other for a very long time, and for the record, at this point next week, Bobby will be hunting a Rugaru outside Dayton. But not Dean. Dean didn’t want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he’s got wants to die. Or find a way to bring Sam back. But he’s not gonna do either. Because he made a PROMISE. 

So, what’s it all add up to? It’s hard to say. But me? I’d say this was a test, for Sam and Dean. And I think they did alright. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny and GOD himself; they made their own choice. They chose FAMILY. And well, isn’t that kind of the whole point? No doubt, endings are hard, but then again, nothing really ever ends, does it?

[entropygiraffe]

On april 21, 1967, The 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville--A blue two-door caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, Another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her, but they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car. No, the most important object, in pretty much the whole universe. She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, He’d drive around giving bibles to the poor “getting folks right for judgement day”, That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile. After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow motors. A used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, with a little advice from a friend. I guess this is where this story begins. And here’s where it ends. The impala, of course, has all the things most cars have, and a few things they don’t. But none of that stuff is important. This is the stuff that’s important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray, its still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved in the air vents, to this day the heat comes on and they can hear ‘em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs, really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed. ‘Cause it’s the blemishes that make her beautiful. The devil doesn't know or care what kind of car the boys drive. In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They’d pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool like his brother. They could go anywhere do anything. They drove 1000 miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they’d park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars for hours without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls, but they were never, in fact, homeless. That's a good line. Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can out a begging, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every  loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. Thereś always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass. This is the last time Dean and Bobby will see of each other for a very long time. And for the record, This time next week, Bobby will be hunting a Rugaru outside of Daytons, but not Dean. Dean didn’t want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he’s got, wants to die or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise. So, what’s it all add up to? It’s hard to say. But me, I’d say This was a test, for Sam and Dean. and I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and god himself, They made their own choice. They chose family. And, well, isn’t that kinda the whole point? No doubt, endings are hard. But then Again, Nothing ever really ends, does it?

Chuck Shurley’s Monologue from Supernatural S5 E23 (Swan Song)

[doomedandstoned]

The Doom Doc Traces Metal’s Heaviest Genre To Its Roots

~Review by Shawn Gibson, with Billy Goate~

The story of doom begins two generations ago in the UK with a band called Black Sabbath. An important new film, titled The Doom Doc, seeks to connect the dots from those early days to the present, just one city away from Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, and Bill’s Birmingham roots. Directed by Connor Matheson, the Sheffield documentary was released the same year as Black Sabbath played their last.

DOOM /do͞om/

noun

      death, destruction, or some other terrible fate

verb

      condemn to certain death or destruction

The Doom Doc made its timely appearance in 2017; the year Birmingham legends Black Sabbath decided this was (really) The End. Roughly an hour-and-a-half north, we’re met by the hustle and bustle of Sheffield, England. Traffic is awash in a glowing red hue. Pedestrians going to and fro in crowded movements reminiscent of a group of ants.

Sheffield is home of Def Leppard, Human League, and Pulp for the mainstream. For the underground, it’s home to Kurokuma, Regulus, Ba'al, ARAE, and a steady swell of others who are making sure the UK doom scene stays on the map right where Black Sabbath left it.

We hear the voice of Craig Bagshaw, who lives in Sheffield and also fronts Holy Spider Promotions. He tells a tale of going to a party and one of his mates answering the door with a screwdriver in hand and a wild look in his eyes. Upon entry, Craig's friend tells him that he's got some MDMA and he's already toasted. There is an argument about quality of said MDMA. Craig's friend then takes his belt off and starts whipping his mate’s asses as if he was their dad! He screams some twisted gibberish about the Holy Order of the Spider.

Most everyone reading this understands how DIY metal is and even more so with doom and sludge. Jack Newnham of Slabdragger argues, "You’ve just got to make your own scene. You've got to make it happen! If you don't, there isn't a scene." Not surprisingly, heavy music for these folks has become a lifestyle. "It goes beyond hobby to a lifestyle," insists Slabdragger’s Sam Thredder.

Doom may mean different things to different people, but to George Ionita of Kurokuma and ARAE, "Doom’s like fucking apocalypse! It's like when it rains down on you, like when it's so heavy...When we come out with a heavy riff, we'll take off our plugs and stuff and just fucking mosh. That's what doom is! It's the pleasure inside, when I close my eyes playing the song and I see visuals.” George has an example in mind for us, too. “We've got this song about a fucking volcano. I close my eyes and I think about the volcano. I see the volcano overflowing, exploding. It's boss! It's all I've got to say."

Bandmate Joe E. Allen chimes in: “You don't go to doom-sludge shows to hear nice melodies and to hear someone singing nice songs. You go because you want feel like something heavy hitting you in the chest and that's the kind of shows we put on with Holy Spider. We don't want something that feels like a normal metal gig. We want to do something that feels like you’re on some other plane of existence. It's just mashed together into this experience of really loud, really. Really extreme heavy, affecting music."

Sheffield-based writer Rachel Genn serves as narrator of The Doom Doc, tracing doom metal all the way back to the almighty Black Sabbath.   Sabbath changed everything and influenced everybody. They’re the first band to tune down, she recounts, because Tony Iommi had to in an attempt to play guitar after an unfortunate industrial accident clipped several of his fingertips. The incident is recounted in Tony’s own memoir, Iron Man: My Journey Through Heaven and Hell with Black Sabbath (2011).

"That started the whole thing," affirms drummer Vinny Appice of Black Sabbath, Dio, and Heavy & Hell fame. "Tony plays in the pocket, playing these chords. You wanna hear doomy chords? Just let Tony riff for a little bit. It's amazing! That's why we call him Mr. Riff -- The Riff Doctor!"

"Yeah it's all about Sabbath really, isn't it, to be honest?” turning back to Slabdragger’s Sam. “Like, they just smoke weed all the time -- so did all the bands in the ‘60's -- and they make the music we pretty much make."

Rachel sums it up nicely for us all: "Doom metal is a subgenre of metal and involves very slow tempos, extremely loud volumes, repetitive, sometimes psychedelic, riffs, and long compositions. Lyrics dealing with evil negativity, spirituality or fantasy. It’s the musical equivalent of wading through black treacle."

I’ve not had an experience with black treacle, but it sounds tantalizing.

"I think like one of the main things with like the Conan guitar sound is, in general, that the fact that the guitar is tuned to drop F, which is totally, ridiculously low,” Says Chris Fielding of Conan and Skyhammer Studio with a chuckle.

Breaking down doom even further, the documentary tells us where the subgenres of sludge metal and stoner rock fit into the equation. "Sludge is like a wilder, greased-up version of doom,” we’re told. “It was Melvins from Washington who first begun the sound." The Seattle band, of course, famous for its punked-up doom tendencies. Other bands like as Eyehategod, Sourvein, Thou, and Crowbar would go on to define the genre even more distinctively.

Speaking of which, the great Kirk Windstein now makes an entrance to tells us about the sludgey roots of the venerated NOLA band Crowbar. "We had come from thrash backgrounds and all that kind of shit. We were like, We just want to do something completely different. We're burned out on it. We kinda just did the opposite of what everybody else was doing. Everybody else was tuned to E standard, playing 1000 miles an hour [so we] tuned it down to fucking B and drop A, playing super slow. We felt it made it a lot heavier.”

It appears that Kirk has been caught up in the Spirit at this moment in the interview, as he then exclaims: “God it's so fucking heavy! There's no way to describe it. I love heavy music!"

Cheers to Kirk Windstein and his earth-shakingly heavy riffs.

In the '90s there was another scene that must be mentioned to understand the evolution of doom metal. Several states down from Washington, another important development in heavy music was taking place in the much sunnier terrain of the southwest. Most famously, bands like Kyuss and Fu Manchu dabbled in fuzzy, tuned-down rock ‘n’ roll, which we simply call stoner rock. Stoner bands began appearing not only in California, Arizona, and Texas, but all around the freaking world.

Rob Graham of the Sheffield-based Wet Nuns and Drenge mentions being a little irked by the term stoner rock. “I think it's sad when any form of expression becomes just about the drugs that the people are into,” he says, while also noting: “It's pretty cool to smoke weed and listen to heavy music.” A better word to focus on? Blues. “To begin with we were sorta just a blues band. Like we were this thrashy kinda garage blues band. Bored, creative people that wanted to really [make] fuckingly stupid loud music.”

As the conversation goes along, we stumble upon a familiar theme: “Somewhere along the way we stumbled across this like kinda thing heavy, so heavy!” Rob says, notably enthused. “That's what we're about we were trying to be as heavy as we could be. It's like trying to run in a swimming pool! It's like being stuck in a tar pit and melting. That's what it conjures to me, anyway."

Anyone up for little skinny dip in a lake of treacle?

While “stoner” may be used in a derogatory sense, there’s no denying that marijuana has been a huge influence for doom metal and stoner rock bands alike, leading to the advent of stoner-doom. If Black Sabbath started doom’s love affair with their ‘71 single “Sweet Leaf,” bands like Electric Wizard and Sleep (with their monumental opus, Dopesmoker) forever married Mary Jane to The Riff. Others, such as Weedeater, Weedpecker, Bongzilla, BelzebonG, Dopelord, Dopethrone, have become important mile markers for the scene.

"Yeah the two seem to go hand in hand," says Kez Whelan of Terrorizer Magazine and Nottingham doom-grind act Shrykull. “Even though it's associated, that sweet leaf is the influence it isn't for everybody in the doom scene.”

Not everyone is down with the dope, however. Craig and Joe’s counterpart in Holy Spider Promotions, Terry Larkin, is introduced to us next. A UK doom fan, he is quite; a marijuana fan, not so much. "I was never really into the whole listening to music and smoking weed. It doesn't affect me nicely at all!” He does seem to contend that we can get high on the music composed by a musician under the influence. “They can actually channel it into the music effectively giving the listener that same feeling, too." Music makes you high? That’s a thesis we can get behind.

Kirk Windstein returns, because you know he has stories to tell from all those years hanging with Phil Anselmo, Pepper Keenan, Jimmy Bower, and the rest. "A lot of the guys did smoke weed,” he recalls, “so we were very creative sitting in a circle together with a good buzz, you know, coming up with shit that ended up being great. Down was much more of a collaboration and a jam session type thing. So we jammed from fuckin’ in the afternoon until whenever -- fuckin’ two o’clock in the morning. By then, everybody was tanked or high or whatever might be. We were able to come up with some great music doing it that way!"

By this point in The Doom Doc, we’re clear on at least one thing: doom, whatever the flavor, is about keeping it real. You’ll never be short of songs about the despair, depravity, and greed in this dog eat dog, eye for an eye world of ours. Doom metal bands are straight shooters. Whether it concerns religion, politics, or human nature, they call it like they see it.

"Bands like us and in our genre and the whole nine yards, we write and speak about reality," Kirk says. "A lot of people are scared of reality. The truth hurts. A lot of people try to sugarcoat it [and] sweep it under the rug. I think it's important. People always ask me, you know, ‘Can we talk about this, can we talk about that?’ I’m like, you can ask me anything you want. I might not answer, [but] chances are I'm gonna.” What he says next really resonated with me, as I’m sure it will with many of our readers: “I think it’s really for people struggling, you know, with depression -- or its alcohol and drugs. It's very important for them to realize they’re not alone and other people have been there."

Ethan McCarthy of Primitive Man chimes in: "We're writing about real life stuff, you know, so it's like a way to release bad feelings about life's shit, if that makes sense." It makes good sense to me.

"I don't know what we're into, but I fucking like it!" proclaims the great Bill Ward, adding: “You know, for me, playing in a loud, aggressive band, which is what Black Sabbath was, it’s the most comfortable, sonic, and heartfelt place one could be.”

Doomed & Stoned’s Elizabeth Gore and Hugo Guzman were fortunate enough to contribute to this portion of The Doom Doc, visiting the Black Sabbath drummer at his studio in Los Angeles.

This scene we invest in. We choose to nourish this garden.

"Doing a live gig,” Bill Ward says, “I need to thrash and to play and get everything out of me and reach that place of satisfaction inside. I like to come off the stage wasted...It’s very sexual. It’s like, you know, it’s the same thing we have to do when we get together and have sex!" Oh, Bill. You do have a way of leaving us speechless.

“Playing live on stage gives me that same feeling," Bill continues. "That's what music is supposed to do! It's supposed to go wherever it's supposed to. It’s pretty simple. I find no faults, no judgement, you know. Leave that to someone who’s more righteous. As far as I'm concerned, metal's fucking metal!"

Returning now to Joe E Allen from Kurokuma: “I remember Conan being extremely atmospheric, extremely heavy, extremely loud -- and that was only amplified by the way we were feeling. It was almost a transcendental experience. I was touched by the finger of doom that night!"

As a vested fan of the genre, this was pretty much my “Hell, yeah!” moment of the documentary. From start to finish, The Doom Doc is an evident work of passion. For fans of doom, it should be required watching. I’m not sure how newcomers to the genre will take it -- it’s hard to be objective when you listen to it, write about it, play it, and live it. Nonetheless, this 90-minute film is a welcome entry into a fairly small collection of documentaries on the heavy underground. Hopefully viewers will be inspired by it to dig into their own local scenes and do a little riff-mining of their own.

Upcoming Screenings of The Doom Doc

International Film Festival Rotterdam (Holland), January 2018

Desertfest London (UK), May 2018

Bristol (UK), May/June 2018

Brutal Assault (Czech Republic), August 2018

Look for The Doom Doc on DVD by this summer at www.theDoomDoc.com

UPDATE!

The Doom Doc DVD is now available pre-order, with worldwide shipping and streaming options availalbe.   Visit: thedoomdoc.bigcartel.com

[njawaidofficial]

Just 13 Epic AF "Lip Sync Battle" Performances, In No Particular Order

https://styleveryday.com/2018/04/09/just-13-epic-af-lip-sync-battle-performances-in-no-particular-order/

Just 13 Epic AF "Lip Sync Battle" Performances, In No Particular Order

You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Tom Holland do “Umbrella”.

Tom Holland (Spiderman: Homecoming) performs “Umbrella” by Rihanna

High point: 1.30, when things really kick up a notch (no spoilers!).

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Jenna Dewan Tatum (Step Up) performs “Pony” by Ginuwine.

High point: 0.38, when the power tools are brought out.

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Lupita Nyong’O (Blank Panther) performs “Whatta Man” by Salt and Pepa

High point: 1.12 when the choreo gets ~steamy~.

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Matt McGorry (Orange Is The New Black) performs “Work From Home” by Fifth Harmony

High point: 0.45 when the “work work work work” section kicks in.

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Terry Crews (Brooklyn 99) performs “1000 Miles” by Vanessa Carlton

High point: 0.55 when the twirling begins in earnest.

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Sam Richardson (Veep) performs “Hot Blooded” by Foreigner

High point: 0.36 for the reveal.

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Finn Wolfhard (Stranger Things) performs “Buddy Holly” by Weezer

High point: 1.07 when his Stranger Things co-stars can’t believe how good he is.

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Justin Bieber performs “Crazy Train” by Black Sabbath

High point: 1.03 when he commits to a spot-on Ozzy *eye moment*.

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Laverne Cox (Orange Is The New Black) performs “Lose My Breath” by Destiny’s Child

High point: 1.22- 1.35 is pretty unbeatable.

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John Cho (Star Trek) performs “Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi

High point: 0.57 when he mimes dismounting his horse with such a straight face.

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Danielle Brooks (Orange Is The New Black) performs “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi

High point: 1.15 when the guitar solo starts.

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Zendaya (Spiderman: Homecoming) performs “24 Carat Magic” by Bruno Mars

High point: 0.11 when she stares down the camera, knowing she’s about to knock it out of the park.

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Derek Hough (Dancing With The Stars) performs “Chandelier” by Sia

High point: 0.14 when the effortless leap shows how talented a dancer he is.

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