#and the bit he read at the end?! (i think it's a chorus he wrote for philocetes which had current day political resonance)

[bloodlessbelmounte]

Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 1

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would've been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade's read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn't explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool

Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Mild Gore/Body Horror, Masturbation, Additional warnings to be added as more chapters are uploaded.

Beginning Note: This was originally meant to be a crackfic but the bitch decided to become a multichapter project instead. I never thought I would get brain rot this severe over a movie of all things. The toxic old man yaoi really is a hell of a drug.

Cross posted to AO3

Heya kiddos- well actually no I hope you’re not kiddos. The following events aren’t exactly G-rated. Scratch that, not G-rated in the slightest. See the author’s girlfriend asked them if they had written anything gay before because and I quote “You’re the type of person I imagine would – you are very gay” and was very surprised to find her partner had, in fact, not written gay porn for a rabid audience (though they once wrote reader insert smut for one of the most rabid fan-bases – BTS anyone?). Lucky for her, the author’s autistic ass is currently hyper-fixated on my movie and has watched it twice. Now I know what you’re thinking: another re-imagining of the icon and highly erotic Honda Odyssey scene that the Tumblr girlies are going feral over? Sadly no, there are over a hundred-and-sixty interpretations of that situationship on AO3 already and the author is not up to that task. Self-conscious and insecure fuckface they are. Oh b-t-dubs, this will have mixed perspectives. So without further ado, let’s fucking do this. Maximum effort.

Deadpool didn’t imagine his epic team-up with his hero of heroes to end this way. With his noble self-sacrifice, blue anti-matter coiled around his wrist, coursing through his veins and dismantling him atom by atom and him helplessly reaching for the matter contained on the other side of this fucking bridge. No, to be honest, he imagined it ending with maybe a few drinks in a bar to celebrate victory before trying to convince Wolverine to hate fuck him. When have things ever gone his way?

You will never save the world. Ya couldn’t even save a relationship with a god damn stripper.

“Not now, flashbacks.”

Grunts of effort and pain as he was on the verge of dislocating his shoulder to just fucking reach the other fucking side. He had to save them. Give Peanut the restart he deserved. Give this world the hero it deserved. Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ was ringing through his ears as he knew he needed a miracle. And just like a prayer answered, Wolverine was right there with him, gripping tightly to his reaching hand and bridging the gap. He had a few precious seconds to appreciate the washboard glistening abs that were explosively -gloriously- exposed to his greedy eyes before Madonna and the pain crescendoed. Oh, what he would’ve done to at the very least get a bit of frottage from that meal of a man. Deadpool and Wolverine’s shouts of agony as energy tore through them intermingled, part of the chorus only he could hear.

White. Everything was white. Burning hot and blinding. Then there was…

Nothing. No pain. No heat. Just weightlessness.

Until his body collided with a wall with a thunk and sprawled onto the ground. He couldn’t get up immediately, his healing factor working overtime to patch up the spider webbing network of atomised damage. Once the pain was tolerable enough, Deadpool stumbled up to his feet with gritted teeth. What did people say? Pain lets you know you are still alive. Well, he was definitely alive then. The smoke and debris in the air made it hard to breathe let alone see through his mask, that wouldn’t do. Ripping the miraculously intact material off, Wade idly wondered why his clothes were fine. Did the universe decide he was too much of an eyesore to strip? Or more logically, Logan’s metal skeleton made him more conductive. Shit.

Wade scanned the destroyed room, trying to catch a glimpse of neon yellow. Panic seeped in when he couldn’t immediately spot the older mutant. Please don’t be vaporised.

“Wolvie? Peanut?!”

A groan came from across the other side of the wreckage. Groaning was good. Groaning – in this case – meant pain or annoyance, which meant functional nervous system. Good. Good. Now, how to get across. Bridge is out of the question, it’s royally fucked. Which left clambering over crumbled walls that blocked the walkways. Goal set, Wade navigated his way over to roughly where he heard the groan emanate from, muscles protesting the whole time. Bright yellow peaked out from underneath the rubble. Logan’s knee to be precise. Wade sighed.

“Maximum effort.”

Wade got to work, moving aside the bricks that had landed on top of his partner, revealing a barely lucid Wolverine and- Holy shit. Big fuck off piece of metal shelving right through the stomach. Wade was pretty sure the only reason Logan wasn’t bisected was because of those metal bones of his.

“Take a deep breath, Honey Badger, this is going to hurt worse than the reviews for the Borderlands movie. Can you believe they’ve gotten a nine percent critics score on Rotten Tomatoes while we have a seventy-eight? They weren’t too happy about all the rectal stabbings. Have they not heard of queer allegory? Though we’re ninety-five from audiences. Must be all the sexual tension between us.”

As Wade was prattling on – partly running his mouth as always and partly to distract Logan – he unsheathed his katanas and slotted them into the wound and wiggled them under the metal.

“The fuck are y’doing, Bub?” Logan seethed through gritted teeth, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down again by the merc.

See Wade wasn’t always an idiot- “Hey I take offence to that.” -but he could have a smart idea every once in a while, such as now. Knowing that he did not possess the strength to pull out - “My pull-out game is strong I’ll have you know.” - the sheet of metal, a proper application of force would allow him to lever it out. Taking turns with what katana he pushed down on, he eventually worked the shelf out far enough for him to straddle the other man’s lap and rip it out the rest of the way with a wet squelch. Next to come out were his beloved weapons which he wiped in his elbow crease then re-sheathed.

Immediately Logan’s thatched lickable abs started to knit themselves back together. And Wade couldn’t stop his hands from wandering; tracing up his chest and neck to grab those blowjob handles, lean down, and finally kiss the crotchety old fuck like he’d been dying to for the past seventy-two hours. Because in for a penny in for a pound, who knows if he’d see him again when all is said and done. Logan went stiff beneath him and Wade froze in place, knowing in his bones that he was going to get pushed off. But then Logan relaxes and his arms wrap around Wade’s waist to pull him closer, his tongue sweeps across the seem of scarred lips asking for entry. Which is enthusiastically granted. Blood and iron assaults Wade’s taste buds as teeth knock and tongues dance. Of course, being over two hundred would make Wolvie a great kisser, the man wasn’t contractually allowed a flaw under Disney. As much as Wade would have loved to carry on sloppily making out and maybe slip his hand down what remains of Logan’s suit, he knew that even though he wouldn’t mind beating the crap out of a bureaucrat with a raging hard-on, the man beneath him probably would. And so semi-reluctantly Wade broke away with a sigh, Logan’s hands shifting to lightly grasp his hips.

“We should show that motherfucker upstairs just how alive we are.”

Of course, you gays, gals, and non-binary pals know what happens after that. We march our asses up to those pencil pushers resulting in two iconic lines – one of which is an Oscar-worthy delivery of my favourite word. There were some extreme levels of sexual tension between B-15 and Peter, Logan and I regenerate my timeline meaning my plan fucking worked and Logan got to stay here. We also got a fat stack of compensation each for our efforts. Now we cut to shawarma and see things from a grumpy puppy’s perspective.

Logan knew to expect some differences between this universe and his original such as there still being living X-men. And he knew that there was the fundamental difference of a lack of secondary sexes here but the distinct absence of pheromones everywhere made the air here seem… cleaner? Almost overwhelming in its purity. The scent of pollution, of food being prepared, of dog piss on the pavement undiluted. No Alphas peacocking. No Omegas trying to suppress and get by. Just “average” people living average lives. Like what was happening in front of him.

Logan, with arms crossed over and leaning against a wall, watched in amusement (not that he’d ever admit to it) as Wade went to place his order at the shawarma place he had led him to.

“I’ll have one beedo beedo, a chocobo supreme, and a mountain boo bah. What would you like Honey Badger?” Wade asked his elbow on the counter top, head resting on his hand as his body was turned to face his partner, ignoring how the server was looking at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Sir, this is a shawarma joint, we only do shawarma here. I have no idea what a beedo beedo is-” The kid behind the counter tried to inform the ADHD-riddled regenerator only to be met with a finger over his lips as he was promptly shushed.

“We do the talking sweetums, you just be a little patient. Wolvie? Anything in mind?”

Some rest would be a good start, then a shower and bottle of whiskey. An explanation on that kiss back there. But food was a good start.

“Ignore his ramblings, he’s had multiple head injuries over the last few days. We’ll have two beef and one chicken, all the salad. Obviously tarator sauce in the beef and toum in the chicken. As for drinks, give us whatever beer y’d recommend.” Logan noticed Wade’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye as he rattled off a proper order. The kid behind the counter pushed the finger on his lips away and nodded, inputting the order and printing off the details to pass to the cook. “What? Did y’think I’d never had this before?”

Wade blinked at him, “Well… uh… to be honest yeah. Didn’t take you for the adventurist foodie type.”

“Need I remind y’of just how old I am, Bub? I was around when immigrants introduced this to the country.”

“Oh, so you’re the original trendsetter for your universe. Speaking of, I’ve seen the fanfictions and read the yaoi, did your world have fated pairs and heat cycles? Do male Omegas just have a dick and ass or do they have a vagina too? Or did they just have a vagina? Did you have to take suppressors for your ‘Alpha Ruts’ to reign in your primal instincts?” Wade’s eyes shone with curiosity as he fired off questions, “Oh are we going to have to deal with those now that you’re in residence here? Maybe I should ask that TVA lady to get you like an inter-dimensional prescription.”

Logan sighed and rubbed his face, he had been expecting this line of questioning. Honestly, he had expected them to occur in the Void after Wade got offended for being called a beta-

“What in the Andrew Taint bullshit is that? They have toxic masculinity red-pillers in your world too? And you’re one of them? For shame Logi Bear. That’s why you’re the Worst Wolverine.”

-and the subsequent misunderstanding was cleared up. At least in the Void, there were fewer witnesses.

“In order: Yes to both. Dick and Ass. Yes, it’s a pain to get by without them or a partner. And that’s all I’m telling y’because it doesn’t affect you.”

“That’s no fun. I need the juicy deets,” Suddenly Wade gasped and pointed at him, “Do you knot?! Bite on the nape of the neck? Oh, I think I might just pop a chub at this rate.”

Logan growled standing straight and emitting his pheromones on instinct, “Enough. As I said it doesn’t affect y’so y’don’t need to know.”

Silence. Finally silence. And the faintest smell of something sweet.

“Order up.”

Logan took his two beef and handed the chicken to Wade alongside a beer, his own stuffed into a jacket pocket. They sat outside the shop in silence and in the time it took for Logan to wolf down one and a half of his order, Wade had only finished half before he started talking again.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma in the sacred timeline.” He said, mouth still full.

Logan glanced over at him, “They’d be lucky to have y’.”

Wade had a considering look in his eye as paused chewing then nodded. The guy still probably had his insecurities and self-doubt that Logan definitely exacerbated in the Honda. Just as they were about to take another bite, barking and the sound of scampering paws were heading right at the pair. It was that fucking dog.

“Oh~”

“Come on,” Logan groaned, head falling back.

“Fuck!” Wade threw his half-eaten wrap on the ground and began the daintiest clap Logan had ever seen done by someone other than a white girl, “Come over here my little munchkin! Yes, it’s you~. You’re a survivor.” Wade picked up the ugly little thing, squeezing her tight and kissing her on the head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Yes, it is.” Wade turned to him, eyeing him up and down, “So what are you going to do next?”

Logan shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“That right? I’ll probably see you around,” A small smile was playing on his lips as he continued to gauge his response.

An impulsive thought wormed its way into his head, before he knew it he found himself quirking an eyebrow at the merc and proceeded to lie.

“Probably not. See y’, Bub.”

With that, he stood up and walked away as Wade continued to pet Dogpool. He threw the remains of his meal onto a table. A waste really. But all part of the plan. His pace was slow and measured, he was waiting. And when he heard the call of:

“Logan!”

He stopped, a small smile unable to be contained as Wade finally called him by his name. Not one of those childish nicknames. This had been what he was waiting to hear. He turned to face Wade, his expression schooled into a neutral facade.

“Stay with me- us.” Wade offered, pointing between himself and the dog.

Logan walked back over to him, “I thought y’shared a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely blind woman named Althea. Doesn’t sound like y’have much room for me.” Not much room in the apartment or his life. He wasn’t part of Wade’s world.

“There’s always room for one more. We have a pull-out sofa you can use. Not much privacy but it’s home. I only share a bed with Blind Al because I’ve been incredibly touch-starved since the breakup and need my bedtime cuddles.”

Logan huffed a chuckled, “That’s why I had to tie y’up, Bub.” A lie. In reality he had been planning to abandon Wade in that car. “Well, I’m not one to turn down a free roof over my head until I can sort out something more permanent.”

Before he knew it, he was following Wade to his home which was a lot closer to the TVA base and, subsequently, the shawarma shop than he had expected. Just down the street really. Meeting Al was sweet, it almost felt like being introduced to a parent back when he was a young man. And much like a mother, she swiftly turned in ire to Wade and slapped him on the arm with such precision Logan almost doubted her disability.

“Wade W. Wilson, you disappear after blowing out your birthday candles only to return with havoc in the streets and a man on your arm. You could have told us you were dating again. Peter was worried sick about you.”

It had been his birthday? The merc had spent his birthday trying to save his friends -his world – and was rewarded with a thorough verbal dressing down and a night of carnage in a car.

“Oh well, you know, it was the usual. I got abducted, told our universe was dying because someone had to go and nobly sacrifice themselves for the next generation of mutants. So then I hopped through multiple universes to find me a Wolverine who wouldn’t stab me on sight. Found this fella right here and got sent to the universal (not the studio) trash heap. Where I then proceeded to get my brain finger fucked by a bald long-nail-bedded bitch. Seriously they began at like her knuckle. Props to the costume department for that mildly disturbing detail.” Al’s inability to see didn’t stop Wade’s wild gesticulations as he described the events that happened to him. “And after a daring escape from her clutches, I had the best birthday car romp in a while. Became a real pin cushion for ‘im.” Wade sent Logan a wink.

Logan cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, a slight heat taking root in his ear at the implication behind those words. Al gagged.

“Wade, what I’m about to say is without a hint of homophobia: I don’t need to hear any more about your repulsive sex life. It’s bad enough I can hear you choking the chicken in the bathroom.”

Wade was laughing to himself as he meandered away from his now two room-mates and it was only slightly awkward until he returned with sweatpants and a tank top in hand. He shoved them into Logan’s chest along with a towel.

“Shower is through that door there,” He pointed to his right, “You reek of alcohol, blood, and Marvel H Christ knows what else. I doubt I smell much better – not like the Void had personal hygiene products lying around – but your odour can only be described as one of my twenty-eighteen suicide attempts from the second movie before I rewrote the events that triggered that spiral.” Wade looked off to the side, “You readers know which one I’m on about.” He mimicked an explosion sound as he ballooned his hands apart.

Logan was taken aback for a moment, processing that the seemingly always chipper buffoon had tried to kill himself at some point. However, he decided against acknowledging the trauma dump by just grunting his thanks. He took the offered clothes and beelined for the bathroom.

Alright fuck-os let’s focus on me again.

Shut up, Wade. I’m trying to write here.

Oh sure you are. I saw you reading other fanfics and some of my comic runs. And aren’t you on vacation now? I didn’t say you could take a break.

Sigh. Anyway…

Wade placed Mary Puppins on the floor and then immediately flopped onto the sofa, energy levels depleted and a deep set ache in his muscles. He waited for the sound of the shower starting before speaking.

“We’re not dating.”

“Not yet,” Al responded, somehow managing to give him a pointed look despite a) being blind and b) wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“The man hates me. Stabbed me many times on many occasions – not that I didn’t enjoy it.” Wade grumbled, sinking further into his seat.

“So why is he here?”

“He had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t just let him wander the streets after I abducted him. Not after he saved me.”

“So Vanessa announces she has a new boyfriend after you’ve been separated for two years and you went and kidnapped one for yourself. That’s a new kind of fucked up, even for you Wade.”

“Yeah I know, I’m a bigger fuck up than Ryan Reynolds accepting that Green Lantern role. I don’t need reminding. Again, we’re not dating. Manage to get your hands on some White Girl Interrupted while Feige’s attention was on the Void?”

“You might not be but you like him. You haven’t introduced someone to me like that since Vanessa. I still don’t know who the fuck Feige is but yes I did.”

“Good because I need some right now. I’m guessing you’ve put it in your sex toy drawer in an attempt to deter me but Al you always fail to remember very little disgusts me.”

Wade slapped his lap as he got up, signalling the end of the conversation. He went back to the bedroom and immediately opened the aforementioned drawer, sticking his hand in he rifled through dildos and vibrators of various shapes and sizes until he found a rectangular packet. Bingo. Oh, he was so going to build a snowman. Oh wait, this is fanfiction, not a movie, Feige has no control here. Wade can just say cocaine.

You guys are going to have to use your imagination here because the author doesn’t know how to write cocaine usage because they’re a pure little munchkin who only ever smoked weed like five times and sniffed poppers once.

Hey stop interrupting or I’ll make this a T rating.

Suitably buzzed and the throbbing ache of his muscles dulled, Wade grabbed a towel and a set of PJ’s to change into after his turn in the shower. His timing was seemingly perfect as he entered the living area just as Logan stepped out of the bathroom towelling his hair roughly, a steam plume framing him in a haze with the lighting hitting just right. The clothes lent to him a tight fit as they clung to the man’s muscular frame, hugging spots that weren’t completely dry yet. Dear lord, was that a dick print? Look at the size of that thing! He needed to French kiss whoever invented grey sweats. Whoever they are or were, he hoped they were getting laid six ways to Sunday. Wade found himself thanking whatever foresight he had since the white tank went near translucent in places like the dips of Logan’s abs and the swell of his pecs. He quickly wiped away the drool on the corner of his lips.

“Nice milk cans you got there, Wolvie. Hope you didn’t use up all the hot water,” Wade commented, eyes still roving over the other’s effortlessly erotic form. That’s the World’s Sexiest Man 2008 for you.

Logan slung the towel around his shoulders, a flush to his cheeks – from heat, Wade’s comment, or ogling who knows – as he seemingly took a moment to study the merc’s face.

“Is… Is that cocaine in y’nose? Y’pupils are dilated. Are y’high?” Logan scoffed in response, eyebrows pinched together.

Wade wiped his nose, “Did you know your pupils can dilate as much as fifty-five percent when you look at something or someone you love? Because I’m loving what a feast for my eyes you are.” He approached the grouchy man and rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows, which was swiftly slapped away with a grumble, “You shouldn’t frown so much, it’ll age you faster. As much as I am all for our old man yaoi dynamics I don’t want you looking like the Old Man Logan who shotgun blasted me.”

Wade patted Logan on the arm as he squeezed past him to get entry into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He chucked the towel and change of clothes onto the bathroom’s counter top, knocking over the toothbrush pot and a few other bits. He then stripped off the red leather suit, having to peel it away as dried blood and various other bodily fluids had acted as fucking glue. Bare as the day he was born, Wade turned the shower on and fiddled with the taps to get the temperature just how he liked it. Steamy, the same way he liked his homoerotic fight scenes.

Stepping in, Wade rolled his shoulders and took a moment to let the water ease his tight muscles.

“That’s the good stuff,” he moaned softly, tilting his head back eyes closed.

After what felt like a suitable amount of time had passed, he grabbed his loofah and body wash and went to town on getting the caked-on grime off of his scarred skin. The water flowing down the drain was a murky burgundy as sand, old blood, and who knows what else was washed away.

When the water turned clear Wade decided to focus on… other things. Mainly the beefcake wearing his clothes at that very moment, the walking wet dream he was. Visions of those sweaty tits floated through his mind, making his cock – which had already been at half-mast – twitch in interest. God, he had been dying to rub one out since he woke up tied against The Wolverine. He grasped himself firmly and gave a few tugs to get fully hard before teasing over the tip. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as tried to stifle his whimpers. He worked over his shaft as he recalled how Logan had smiled during their scuffle in the Honda, how his blood had dripped onto the older man’s cheek and into his mouth – on those fangs. Logan had licked the blood off with an almost feral look in his eyes before launching him through the sun roof. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last with how pent-up he was. His grip tightened as he sped up his ministrations. He remembered the kiss after saving the multiverse as he came with an embarrassingly desperate groan. Logan had kissed him back. Had held him close. Yet when all was said and done, he had been ready to leave Wade behind. What a confusing, grumpy hunk. With a shaky exhale he turned off the shower.

Wade towelled off and got dressed. His chosen PJ’s for the night were lavender shorts and a Hello Kitty crop top. Hey – crop tops were invented by male bodybuilders to get around gym attire rules, so never let anyone tell you men can’t wear crop tops. With dramatic zeal, Wade threw open the door and strutted out of the bathroom. He was not expecting to have two pairs of hazel eyes looking right at him. One in disdain and one in… appraisal?

Laura. Laura was on his sofa. Why was she here? Oh god… did Laura hear him jerking off?!

“Oh.” Wade squeaked, mortified as his body tinged a dark red. “Hi there.”

The girl, so much like her father, grunted in response and turned away. Speaking of, Logan had yet to tear his eyes away and if Wade saw correctly, he seemed to be… sniffing?

“Enjoy y’shower, Red?” The smirking fucker asked, then gestured towards Laura, “The TVA just dropped her off. She has nowhere to crash so Althea kindly offered her y’spot on the bed.”

Wade gasped and marched round to stand in front of the pair, “What? Where am I supposed to sleep? On the floor?”

“I’m not going to make y’sleep on the floor in y’own home, Wade. Y’ll be bunking with me on the sofa.” Logan patted the free space next to him.

Wade stiffly sat down in the offered seat and whispered incredulously to the older man, “What about my bedtime cuddles?”

“I’m sure y’can make do without.” Logan deadpanned but that infuriating smirk was still plastered on his face.

It was quite the jump from it just being Wade and Al in the shitty one bed apartment to there now being four people in the space of a few hours.

Wade huffed and crossed his arms, “We need to find a bigger apartment… Anyone feel like Chinese food?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Wade took Al’s phone off the coffee table and opened up the delivery app he used most, his favourite Chinese take-out was top of the recommended list. He put in what he and Al usually ordered then passed the phone to Logan. His former eyebrows shot upwards as the bi-centenarian successfully navigated the menus and selected what he wanted. It was Laura who seemed perplexed by the menu and the food listed. It was a sweet moment, watching Logan awkwardly explain what everything was when asked. Despite being virtually strangers, there looked to be a genuine connection forming already. Kin recognising kin on that instinctual level only Wolverines can experience. Wade took the time to tell Al and Laura all about the epic battle in the streets and how they saved the world with the power of hand holding as they waited for their food to arrive.

“You know Peter will have told everyone by now that you’re back with company,” Al remarked, petting Mary Puppins who had situated herself on the elderly woman’s lap. “They’ll be over tomorrow, I just know it.”

Wade felt Logan go rigid beside him, was he worried about Negasonic and the other X-men in his makeshift family? Oh, that was going to be a weird meeting wasn’t it. Not because they’d be seeing a ghost of their Wolverine, no. Their Wolverine was still alive and kicking, after all it’s twenty-twenty-four at the moment not twenty-nine which was when his timeline’s Logan was scheduled to die. See, Wade had used that TVA device to jump forward in time and exhume his remains because for the TVA all timeline events are happening simultaneously. So these X-men would be seeing a stranger who looked like their Logan, and Logan would be seeing the faces of those he had already lost in his world knowing he was going to lose them here too. Wade made a silent vow to keep Negasonic, Yukio and Colossus away from Westchester when the time comes. He liked those ones.

…Wait. All that timey-whimey stuff meant that Paradox, the dickhead, was going to set off the Time Ripper five years before this timeline’s OG Logan was meant to die. Was he really so impatient to ‘prune’ the timeline that he wasn’t willing to waiting for the self-sacrificing fuck to actually do the thing?

“Everyone except Weasel – his actor has multiple sexual assault allegations against him and that’s not a good look for us,” Wade interjected in a most likely misguided attempt to lighten the mood. All it got him, however, was Laura and Logan staring at him. “Hey, I don’t keep people like that in my social circle. I’m a good boy. Consent is sexy and if someone doesn’t take no for an answer, stab ‘em. Solves everything.”

Laura nodded at the sagely advice then looked towards the door and stood up seconds before knocking resounded from the entry way. Wade handed her the tip money as she walked by to answer. Food secured, Wade stood up, washed up some cutlery that would be needed and handed them out as Logan helped Laura to sort out the food and Al turned on the TV – Golden Girls was already playing. They mostly ate in silence whilst Wade made comments about the episode that was met with “Shut up” from various people. It wasn’t long until Al was retiring for the night and taking Laura with her to sort some things to wear. The girl was briefly sent out with bedding, blankets and spare pillows for the sofa.

“We should probably get the bed set up, sounds like we’re in for a long day tomorrow,” Wade suggested while clearing away the take out containers.

“We should… but we still have those beers from the shawarma place. In the fridge, if y’d like to have them now,” Logan offered, collecting up the dirty cutlery to put in the already overflowing sink. He grunted at the sight of it.

Wade retrieved said beers and handed one to Logan who released a single claw and used it to pop the cap off. He then did the same to Wade’s, who found that all too attractive, he had to think of puppies being kicked to stop himself from popping a boner then and there.

“Cheers. To saving the world!” Wade toasted, clinking his bottle against Logan’s.

“To saving y’world,” Logan grumbled, immediately taking a deep swig.

“Any particular reason you wanted to share a drink with me, Peanut?” Wade asked, sitting back down on the cushion he had previously occupied, eyes following Logan as he sat on the opposite side of the sofa with legs spread. Slut.

“Deserve it after the shit we’ve been through. Not everyday people like us nearly die.” Logan answered, gesturing between them.

“Thank you, by the way, for not letting me face death alone in the end. Despite the noble sacrifice, I wasn’t lying when I said I was scared,” Wade said, shifting in his seat to bring both his feet up. It just never felt right to have them on the floor.

Logan growled, “Couldn’t exactly let y’. As I said, I had nothing left to live for. Would have left me stranded here with no fucking clue who anyone was if y’had succeeded. Asshole move on y’part.”

Wade nursed his beer as Logan spoke. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his rushed plan to save everyone. He placed his drink on the coffee table and tried looking anywhere but at the man casually spread across his sofa. Candid moments came as naturally as bottoming to him. Not at all.

“In that moment, when you offered yourself up and held that picture, I thought I needed to save those I cared about. Apparently, in the three fucking days we’ve known each other for, you became the tenth person in my world. Saving everyone meant saving you too – despite the stabbing each other.”

The silence that came afterwards made him uncomfortable, had him reaching for his beer to keep his mouth busy. He could hear Logan gulping down his before hollow glass clinking on MDF resounded through the room with an accompanying sigh. Wade finally looked at the other man, who just seemed tired. Ready to call it a night.

“What’s done is done, Bub. Just glad we both survived to see another day.” Logan pointed to the mostly full bottle in Wade’s hands, “Y’gonna finish that?”

“Oh, uh yeah. Hang on.” In a similar display to what Logan had done in that dive-bar he dragged him out of, Wade necked the bottle of beer, some of the liquid dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He impressed himself with how he managed to chug it down without needing to breathe – he thought those binge drinking muscle memories had long since faded. Once empty, Wade lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze drifted over to Logan whose eyes, which were darker than usual (but that may have been down to the lighting), were locked on Wade’s throat.

“You good there, Honey Badger?”

Logan blinked a couple of times and shook his head, “Yeah just… just lost in thought. Let’s get the bed set already.”

Wade nodded and picked up their bottles, depositing them in a plastic bag that contained other used glass items. He then manoeuvred the coffee table out of the way so Logan could pull the bedframe and mattress out. It all felt rather domestic; pulling the bottom sheet into place, setting up the blankets and pillows together. The lights were turned off and the two men got under the covers. Wade really did try to go to sleep but for all his effort he was left tossing and turning.

“Will y’quit it? Is your ADHD so severe you can’t stay still even in your sleep?” Logan groaned, arm slung over his face.

“I wasn’t lying about needing bedtime cuddles, Logi Bear,” Wade hissed back.

Logan huffed and threw the arm closest to Wade over the younger man, “Fine. Y’can cuddle this arm. But just the arm.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered, eagerly rolling onto his side and wrapping his limbs around the offered arm like it was a tree to be climbed. “Goodnight, Wolvie.”

“G’night, Bubba.”

Did he just fucking call me Bubba?!

Wade was out like a light, the physical contact anchoring his racing thoughts enough to drift off peacefully.

That’s where you’re gonna leave it? I thought we were going to Pound Town?! THIS IS RATED E DAMMIT!

This was getting too long for a oneshot Wade. You’ll still get your trip to Fuckville don’t worry. It’s not tagged slowburn. Now go the fuck to sleep and I’ll see you next chapter.

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK ELEVEN: UNDERSTAND

It's grueling work. The first video was easy but this director has an extravagant and almost larger than life. It's not common for you to star opposite a famous guy who now, on top of that, will play a greek god.

Dick makes it easy. He shows up on set and jokes around with you. And he always eats with you on lunch break, he tries to pay each time but you try to make it even.

Still you can't help but to feel saddened that your friendship is basically over. Along with end of your friendship and the possibility of it being more than that is less than zero. There was no way Dick would have time for you after this video is done. He's too important and busy. And too not over his ex, possibly.

You try your best to smile while on set today.

-

Dick is freaking out. Like actually nervous and almost throwing up, that type of freaking out. The song he wrote-the one about you but doesn't actually call you out by name, but are about the moments he shared with you-it comes out tonight.

He can't pull the plug on it, he hasn't tried but he knows it won't go over well. His manager talked this single up so well to the studio heads that they wanna renegotiate his contract for one more year.

He doesn't wanna creep you out. But he also can't keep going on like this. It feels like a viscous circle of torture. He's close to telling you and relieving himself of this heavy secret. But then he thinks about how you might not feel the same, and how his confession might chase you out of his life completely. He doesn't want that.

He tries his best to not fall in love with you today.

-

"Okay and that looks great guys I think we've got it for today. We'll send word if we need to do reshoots." the director says.

Someone is pulling a robe over your body. You're not really paying attention because you're watching Dick walk away from set. You had just finished the dance sequence and you were out of breath and sweating.

But all that was on your mind was Dick. It was crazy.

You can't let this go on for forever. You know that. But you honestly don't know what to do that won't hurt your feelings in the process.

With a sigh you head back to your trailer. When you get in you see a fruit basket on top of the couch. You walk over to it, there's a bright blue note sticking out the top. You take the note out.

Your fingers rip the envelope open.

'Thanks for everything. I wanted to get your opinion on this.-Dick" the note reads.

You look at the bottom of the note to see a QR code. You take your phone out from the safe in your trailer and scan it. The link takes you to a blank site with only a media player on it. The time stamp is two minutes fifty seconds.

You hit play, intrigued. When you put your volume up you can barely hear what is playing but it sounds like a song, it sounds like Dick's voice. You hit pause and look around your trailer for your headphones. You find them in your back.

Quickly you connect them to the bluetooth on your phone and hit play again. The intro plays and your brain gets this fuzzy feeling, like you've heard these sounds before. You rewind once, twice trying to understand why its so familiar.

But you decide to leave it alone as you want to hear the rest of the song. The melody plays out and honestly Dick's voice puts you in a bit of a trance. You don't really notice the words he's saying at first but when he gets to the chorus your focus is brought in.

Maybe we could try if you let me

Take you by the hand

You're the only one who understands

It hits you then. Where you heard the beginning from. It's from the first music video shoot. When you and Dick were throwing jokes at each other. It was your laugh. Dick put your laugh in a song?

You can't believe it. Well, you-not you really cannot. But why did he leave this for you to listen to if...

Was this a confession? You hit pause on the song. Then your feet are moving before you can even fully think out the repercussions of your actions. You walk right out of your trailer and onto the lot, all the way over to Dick's trailer which is on the other side.

When you get to the door that's when you feel how hard your heart is pumping. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself. Maybe it wasn't a confession but just him letting you know he's using a personal moment between the two of you in his new music.

Just as you're about to walk up the steps to knock on his door, the door opens. Out comes the stunning and beautiful Zantana. You can feel it in real time how your confidence deflates like a balloon. You try to keep your smile on though.

Her lips start moving but you can't hear her, that's when you realize you still have your headphone on. You pull them off your ears.

"Sorry. What did you just say?" you ask.

She smiles, "Oh, I just said that he's not in here. He might've slipped out a while ago."

"Oh." you say.

"I'm Zantana by the way." she says, holding out her hand.

You take it into your own and shake hands, introducing yourself to her as politely as you can. Your brain is working on overdrive. He's not here? How would she know that if she wasn't here with him?

"I can let him know that you were looking for him." she says.

You shake your head wildly, "No it was nothing. I can just text him."

"Okay. See you around maybe? Are you coming to the party?" she asks.

You feel horrible. You feel like absolute shit. Like here she is being so sweet yo you meanwhile you don't know if these two are a thing or not and you've maybe been harboring feeling for her significant other.

"Party?" you ask now.

Zantana nods, "Yeah the release party for his new single."

Your eyes widen. The song you were listening to a few seconds ago? That song? He was planning on releasing it into the world? What? Your mind is jumping through multiple hoops at the same time.

"I didn't know anything about that." you say, lying.

"Hey, I can put you down as my plus one and get you in. Don't worry about it." she offers.

"I'm just not sure if I can make it." you try to wiggle your way out of going.

"It's a really good song! I know your support would mean a lot to him." she explains.

You think to yourself, maybe she thinks the song is about her. or maybe it is about her and you've gone delusional and the laugh at the beginning isn't yours, because maybe some laughs sound the same. Maybe.

You can't decline an invitation like this. If you want to end this on a good note, if you want to end this at all you have to go.

"Okay, I'll be there." you say.

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Be Prepared - thoughts and commentary

Gonna try to just talk about vocals and arrangement stuff here, because I will be doing a VoicePlay Visuals post for this too, but we'll see. I do know the original song very well though - in fact I rewatched the OG like the other day or something after I saw that picture of Layne and Cyndi that hinted at what Voiceplay was up to. Anyway let's go!

(Put below the cut because this is a lot of just me rambling)

OKAY SO SLEEPING IN THE COLD BELOW HAS BEEN KNOCKED OFF ITS PERCH FOR FAVOURITE VP SONG OF 2024

The opening percussion fill thingy from Layne honestly reminds me a lot of the start of the Moana medley, and apparently I wasn't the only one to think that! A few other Patrons mentioned it, and there was even a very brief throwaway joke about it in the BTS! I have since compared the start of the Moana Medley to the start of this, and they're not identical, but there are still definitely similarities, and it's not actually all that common for VP songs to start off with that sort of drum-like percussion anyway.

Trying very hard to not talk about the on-screen stuff here, because I'll be leaving that for Voiceplay Visuals, but I just have to put it out there that Geoff looks amazing here, and the ACTING OH MY GOD. This is like Oogie Boogie 2.0 in terms of how much Geoff is moving around and embodying the character! Alright now back to vocals/arrangement

Okay so next thing that must be mentioned - the rap! According to a snippet from Layne in the Patreon post description, there was some uncertainty as to whether the dialogue should be kept in or not, which was an issue that VP also faced for their cover of Hellfire last year. When Layne asked Patrons what they thought, it was basically a 50/50 split, so not very helpful, rip. So he thought "What if we keep the dialogue but do it in a way that it feels like it's part of the song -> a 'rap'?" So yeah basically Layne wrote that rap section to be a stand-in for the original dialogue, and honestly it works so well!

This song features Mykal Kilgore, who is one of the OG members of "VoicePlay", way before it was called VoicePlay! I'll say a bit more about him in my Voiceplay Visuals post, but basically he was "one of the screaming high tenors" (Patreon post's words, not mine!), and yeah it shows! That high note on "long live the king!" was hella impressive!

(And if you're thinking "man I kinda wish I could hear more of what Mykal sounds like", first of all, he actually did some covers with Postmodern Jukebox like 7 or 8 years ago (and I apparently have seen one of them before? Watched it by total coincedence at some point? A cover he did of Since You Been Gone). And also, a treat for any of you who've read this far - you might be hearing him with Voiceplay again sooner or later...)

This is actually the third time that Geoff has sung Be Prepared with VoicePlay - the second time was of course the 2019 Aca Top 10 Disney Villains video, but the first time was for VoicePlay's "Once Upon An Ever After" album all the way back in 2012. It was part of a Lion King medley track (just audio, they didn't make a video for it), and so it wasn't the full song (honestly the shift is a little weird, because it jumps from "the lights are not all on upstairs" to "the point that I must emphasise is", like there's no rhyme connection!). Furthermore, the lead was shared between Geoff and Earl, similar to how it was for the Aca Top 10 part. Geoff took the opening verse, Earl took the chorus, and they each got a final line at the end.

And MAN has Geoff come a long way in his vocal abilities since 2012, like yeah duh obviously but STILL.

According to one of the Patrons, the lowest Geoff gets in this one is E1 (via subharmonics of course), and honestly the fact that that's basically child's play for him at this point is crazy. Like I literally had a moment of "oh only down to an E1?" because I know he can go lower, and then was like "wait what do I mean 'only' an E1, that's still objectively low!"

Geoff's voice... what the hell do I say about Geoff's voice? Like the timbre when he's in his upper chest range here, the resonance on the low notes, the GROWLS, like yeah okay obviously I adore his visual performance in the video (and visual everything about him), but that all would be nothing if it didn't come with some of the most amazing vocals you've ever heard in your life!

I love how Geoff goes down on the word "upstairs", and the way he does so with the little growl at the end, oooh it gives me happy shivers!

Low-key funny how there's a sudden low drop on "even you can't be caught unawares", because it does, in fact, catch you unawares (or it did with me anyway!)

Also you'd think I'd fully be used to Geoff's low notes by now, but to steal the phrasing of another reactor I recently started watching, the low drops here are potent! Like literally went down to my stomach (and then some) and even made my heart skip a beat the first couple of watches (and obviously the visuals really help give it a bigger impact).

Oh my god that slow slide down on his last "be prepared" line??? Literally that last syllable alone is stretched out for just a fraction under 10 seconds (I timed it with my phone's stopwatch), INSANE.

I cannot WAIT for reaction videos to this - Kaz, DJ, and Mortius are all gonna lose their goddamn minds!! (Also how many reactions/reaction video titles are gonna include "I was not prepared", lol, low-hanging fruit joke but it's so real)

Alright, I'm off to go watch the video for a third time - this is practically my new Hellfire (said with much love for both - I still love their Hellfire cover a whole lot), and we're not even in October yet!!! (though because of the release delay, we're quite close!)

(As of the public release, I've actually watched this at least half a dozen times, listened to the MP3 track, the karaoke track, and watched the BTS video for this twice. I. Am. Obssessed.)

I'll leave you with a comment and reply from the Patreon post that amused me when I saw it: 😄

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

Assigning Every Fall Out Boy Song to The Life Series

because i'm a normal person with normal person feelings about fall out boy's discography and the life series. trust me.

“every” is a strong word here because fall out boy's discography is Literally Like 150+ Songs so i’m only doing the songs off their main 8 albums in this post. if enough people ask (which i seriously doubt will happen), i’ll do the eps+remixes as well.

sorry if there is an overabundance of certain characters/a lack of certain characters. i tried to include people are frequently as possible but a: i am inherently biased (though some of my faves are pretty underrepresented), b: not everyone has the same amount of content to draw from because they haven't all been in every season and c: some of these guys are simply not fall out boy characters to me. it's just how it is.

so, under the cut will be, in release order, every fall out boy song assigned to a life series character/event+the lyric that i think best represents why i assigned it.

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today: DL!Pearl

To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar (to my favorite scar!)/I could have died with you/I hope you choke on those words that kiss that bottle/Confess (so bury me in memory)

Dead on Arrival: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

This is side one, flip me over/I know I'm not your favorite record/The songs you grow to like never stick at first/So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse/No, it's not the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you/This conversation's still dead on arrival/And there's no way to talk to you/When you're dead on

Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy: DL!Etho (JUST TRUST ME. AND ALSO GO WATCH THE BIT WHERE FINDS OUT BDUBS+IMPULSE ARE SOULMATES)

When I wake up/I'm willing to take my chances on/The hope I'd forget that you hate him more than you notice/I wrote this for you (for you, so…)/You need him, I could be him/I could be an accident, but I'm still trying/And that's more than I can say for him/Where is your boy tonight?/I hope he is a gentleman

Saturday: SL!Gem

Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision/And mess of youthful innocence/And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived/More than an hour (More than an hour)/When I say/Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah/I can't sleep, in the wake of Saturday

Homesick at Space Camp: Post 3L!Skizz

Tonight is all about "We miss you" now/These friends are, new friends are golden

Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here): Post DL!Joel

Every friend we ever had in common/I will sever the tie, sever the tie with you/You can thank your lucky stars/Everything I wish for will never come true/When you go, I will forget everything about you

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: LimL!Martyn

You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath/Until your breathing stops forever, forever/The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips/I hope they taste of me forever

The Pros and Cons of Breathing: DL!Pearl

Woah, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself/You know that I could crush you with my voice/Stood on my roof and tried to see you/Forgetting about me/Hide the details/I don't want to know a thing

Grenade Jumper: The Heart Foundation

They'll say it's not worth it, so we'll leave this town in ruin/Living like life's going out of style, and you came to watch us play/Like a "big shot talent", but at the end of the day you know/Woah, those busted lips we take back home

Calm Before The Storm: DL!Ren

You said/Between your smiles and regrets/"Don't say it's over"/Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over: DL!Jimmy and Tango

I can't wake up to these reminders of who I am/A failure at everything, 18 going on extinct/I know my place, it's nowhere you should roam

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes: SL!Jimmy

I'm all ears and I'm all scars/To hear you tell me, "Boys like you, you try too hard/To look not quite as desperate," I'm hanging on/But I still know the way to make your makeup run/So, and when it all goes to Hell, will you be able to tell/Me "sorry" with a straight face?

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE

Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued: 3L!Impulse

We're only liars but we're the best (We're the best)/We're only good for the latest trends/We're only good 'cause you can have almost famous friends/Besides, we've got such good fashion sense

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World: 3L!Ren and Martyn

You only hold me up like this/'Cause you don't know who I really am/Sometimes I just want to know what it's like to be you

Dance, Dance: DL!Bigb and Ren (Ren perspective, also this is specifically applicable most antagonistic moments of their relationship we get, to be clear. This is not the usual approach I take to them.)

You always fold just before you're found out/Drink up it's last call/Last resort, but only the first mistake, and I/I'm two quarters and a heart down/And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds/These words are all I have so I'll write them/So you need them just to get by/Why don't you show me a little bit of spine/You've been saving for his mattress, love

Sugar, We’re Goin Down: Martyn

We're going down, down in an earlier round (Take aim at myself)/And sugar, we're going down swingin' (Take back what you said)/I'll be your number one with a bullet (Take aim at myself)/A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner: LL!Cleo

I keep my jealousy close/'Cause it's all mine/And if you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one/Lyin'

I’ve Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Songs): Joel

Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"/We're the kids who feel like dead ends/And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses/I took a shot and didn't even come close

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen): LimL!Grian

Sitting out dances on the wall/Trying to forget everything that isn't you/I'm not going home alone/'Cause I don't do too well on my own

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year: SL!Skizz

We're the therapists pumping through your speakers/Delivering just what you need/We're well-read and poised/We're the best boys/We're the chemists who've found the formula/To make your heart swell and burst/No matter what they say/Don't believe a word

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends: DL!Joel and Etho

Strike us like matches, 'cause everyone deserves the flames/We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame/At least everyone is trying, everyone is shining/Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame, such a shame

I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me: Scott

I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends/And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again/And I've got arrogance down to a science/Oh, and I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends, now

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More “Touch Me”: LL!BigB

I confess, I messed up/Dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around/And I know you dressed up/"Hey, kid, you'll never live this down"/And you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with/And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances/I'm sleepin' on your folks' porch again, dreamin'/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows): DL!Grian and Scar (Scar POV)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)/Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one/And it's mind over you don't, don't matter

XO: LL!Mumbo (Look, this is a stretch, I'll be real, but this song was giving me so much fucking trouble. Let me live.)

To the "love," I left my conscience/Pressed between the pages of/The Bible in the drawer, "What did it ever do for me"/I say/It never calls me when I'm down/Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway/Put your ear to the speaker and choose love or sympathy/But never both, love never wanted me

Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers: SL!Tango

Here's a picture with a note, "No, don't turn out like me"/It's only for your own good/No-oh, oh, oh/And haven't you heard, the word on the street is/"I lost it, called it quits," get out into the sun

The Music Or The Misery: LL!Bdubs and Etho (Etho perspective)

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back/It's true, romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head/And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your friend/Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break

INFINITY ON HIGH

Thriller: SL!Scar

Last summer, we took threes across the board/But by fall, we were a cover story, "Now in stores"/Make us poster boys for your scene/But we are not making an acceptance speech

“The Take Over, The Breaks Over”: LimL!Cleo

Wouldn't you rather be a widow than a divorcee?/Style your wake for fashion magazines, oh-oh-oh/Widow or a divorcee?/Don't pretend, d-d-d-don't pretend/We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces/We're trapped and well concealed in secret places/We don't fight fair

This Ain’t A Scene. It’s An Arms Race: SL!Scar

I am an arms dealer/Fitting you with weapons in the form of words/And don't really care which side wins/Long as the room keeps singing/That's just the business I'm in

I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You): SL!Jimmy and Martyn

We're the new face of failure/Prettier and younger, but not any better off/Bulletproof loneliness/At best, at best

Hum Hallelujah: LL!Cleo

I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light/A teenage vow in a parking lot/'Til tonight do us part/I sing the blues and you swallow them too/My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

Golden: Joel (LimL especially, but also just in general)

How cruel is the golden rule/When the lives we lived are only golden-plated?/And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me/Though I carried carats for everyone to see/And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies/And all the lovers with no time for me/And all of the mothers raise their babies/To stay away from me

Thnks fr th Mmrs: LimL!BigB and Pearl

Been looking forward to the future/But my eyesight is going bad/And this crystal ball…/It's always cloudy except for (Except for…)/When you look into the past (Look into the past…)/One night stand…/One night stand off!

Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?: LimL!Skizz

They say quitters never win/But we walk the plank on a sinking ship/There's a world outside of my front door/That gets off on being down/Oh-oh, oh-oh/I could learn to pity fools as I'm the worst of all/And I can't stop feeling sorry for myself, whoa-oh

The (After) Life Of The Party: Scar, again. I don't know what to tell you, this is a very Scar album.

I'm a stitch away from making it/And a scar away from falling apart, apart/Blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate/And the full moon pills got me out on the street at night

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love: LL!Mumbo and Jimmy

Tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns/We're the has-beens of husbands/Sharpening the knives of young wives/Take two years and call me when you're better

Bang The Doldrums: DL+LimL!Jimmy and Tango

The tombstones were waiting, they were half-engraved/They knew it was over, they just didn't know the date…/And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me/The same way I think of you/This is a love song in my own way/Happily ever after below the waist/Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end/Better off as lovers

Fame > Infamy: LL!Joel

I am God's gift, but why would he bless me with/Such wit without a conscience equipped/I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you, whoa/There's too much green to feel blue

You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave: This is far from the only FOB song about a sensitive topic but it's one of the like... two that I don't feel comfortable assigning to something.

I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers: DL!BigB

You're a canary, I'm a coal mine/'Cause sorrow is just all the rage/Take one for the team/You all know what I mean/And I'm so sorry but not really/Tell the boys where to find my body

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: DL!Impulse and Bdubs

Trade baby blues for wide eyed browns/I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes/You know, it's strange/It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you/I'm supposed to love you/I've already given up on myself twice/Third time is the charm, third time is the charm/Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a/Lousy arm

It’s Hard To Say “I Do”, When I Don’t: Am I allowed to say this is a Watchers song? I don't care I'm saying it.

I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself, no/So listen carefully to every word I say/I'm the only one who's gonna get away/With making excuses today/You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have

FOLIE A DEUX

Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes: Impulse

Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine/What a match, I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet/So boycott love, detox just to retox/And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

I Don’t Care: LL!Fairy Fort

Let the leaves fall off in the summer/And let December glow in flames (In flames; oh)/Erase myself and let go/Start it over again in Mexico/These friends, they don't love you/They just love the hotel suites now

She’s My Winona: SL!Martyn

We didn't come to compete, this is a demonstration/Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you've changed

America’s Suitehearts: SL!Gem

Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess/I'm in love with my own sins/You can bow and pretend that/You don't, don't know you're a legend, oh/Time, time, time hasn't told anyone else yet

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet: LimL+SL!Cleo, Bdubs, and Etho

Does your husband know the way that/The sunshine gleams from your wedding band?/Does he know the way, does he know the way/Of the crickets that would convince me to call it a night?/But I will never end up like him/Behind my back, I already am

The (Shipped) Gold Standard: LimL!Bdubs

All the yes-men said "No comment"/My mouth got going/The wrong way, and all the calls started snowing/The time my dad caught me a horseshoe crab/And I asked him if throwing it back into the sea would bring our luck back/I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs/But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me

(Coffee’s For Closers): LL!BigB

Though change will come, oh, change will come/I will never believe in anything again/We will never believe again/Kick drum beating in my chest again/No, we will never believe again/Preach electric to a microphone stand, oh

What A Catch, Donnie: This song is a compilation of different vocalists from bands associated with the band, a compilation of previous songs of theirs, and one of the only FOB ballads. I can't pull a specific lyric, but this one could be solidly used for a compilation/retrospective of every season so far.

27: This is the other one I don't feel comfortable assigning to anything. Moving on.

Tiffany Blews: SL!Lizzie

I'm not a crybaby/I'm the crybaby/A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart/I'm cocktail party doin' alright, hate me baby/Maybe I'm a piece of art/Oh, my friends all lie and say/They only want the best wishes for me

w. a. m. s.: LL!Mumbo

I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts/Of an old one's head/When all the others were just stirrin' awake/I'm tryin' to trick myself to fall asleep again, whoa

20 Dollar Nose Bleed: Dogwarts

When I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king/Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said, "We won, oh, we won"/Permanent jet lag, please take me back (Please take me back)/Please take me back, (ooh, ooh)/I'm a stray dog sick, please let me in

West Coast Smoker: SL!Joel

Wishes bounce me weightless/The infrared scope on pointlessness/The bulls are sedated/And this fight's fixed

Pavlove: SL!Tango

Something make my chest stir/Something make my head blur/Oh, oh, I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no/Oh, oh, I'm just such a happy mess, whoa

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL

The Phoenix: Team TIES

Bring home the boys in scraps, scrap metal the tanks/Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks/Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/"You broke our spirit," says the note we pass

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up): LL!Cleo

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see/That you're the antidote to everything except for me/Through a constellation of tears on your lashes/Burn everything you love then burn the ashes

Alone Together: The Roomies (Cleo, Etho, and Grian)

I don't know where you're going/But do you got room for one more troubled soul?/I don't know where I'm going/But I don't think I'm coming home/And I said, "I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead"/This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

Where Did The Party Go: LL!Tango

I'm here to collect your hearts/It's the only reason that I sing/I don't believe a word you say/But I can't stop listening

Just One Yesterday: LL!Bdubs and Etho

If heaven's grief brings hell's rain/Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/(I know I'm bad news)/For just one yesterday/(I saved it all for you)

The Mighty Fall: DL!Divorce Quartet

Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme and I'm dizzy on dreams/(And I'm dizzy on dreams)/But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one/Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it/(Gutter where we found it)/'Cause you think, you think your only crime is that you got caught

Miss Missing You: Impulse and Bdubs (Impulse POV)

Baby, you were my picket fence, I miss missing you now and then/Chlorine kissed summer skin, I miss missing you now and then/Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger/The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger/Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and then

Death Valley: This is the soundtrack to the LL Battle Royale Finale

We're going to die, it's just a matter of time/Hard times come, good times go/I'm either gone in an instant/Or here 'til the bitter end, I never know

Young Volcanoes: The Heart Foundation

C'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered/Run it up the flag pole/We will teach you how to make boys next door/Out of assholes (Hahaha!)/Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds/It's all over now

Rat A Tat: LL!Grian and Mumbo (mostly Grian POV)

But I'll take your heart served up two ways/I sing a bitter song/I'm the lonelier version of you/I just don't know where it went wrong

Save Rock And Roll: DL!Pearl

I cried tears you'll never see/So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean, and leave me be/You are what you love, not who loves you/In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream/No, no (No, no)/Wherever I go, go (go, go)/Trouble seems to follow

AMERICAN BEAUTY/AMERICAN PSYCHO

Irresistible: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

Count me in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile/I just follow your scent/You can't just follow my smile/All of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine/Cutting me to the bone/Nothing left to leave behind/You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon/I didn't come for a fight but I will fight till the end/This might be your battle, might not turn out okay/You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so LA

American Beauty/American Psycho: LL!Scott

I think I fell in love again/Maybe I just took too much cough medicine/I'm the best worst thing that hasn't happened to you yet/The best worst thing/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/And you can kill me, kill me or let God sort ‘em out

Centuries: LimL!Martyn

And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name/Cause I was only born inside my dreams/Until you die for me, as long as there's a light, my shadow's over you/Cause I am the opposite of amnesia

The Kids Aren’t Alright: The Mounders

It twists my head just a bit to think/All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead/And in the end/I'd do it all again/I think you're my best friend

Uma Thurman: 3L!Cleo

You'll find your way/And may death find you alive/Take me down the line/In Gem City, we turn the tide

Jet Pack Blues: Impulse and Bdubs

Honey, don't you leave/Don't you remember how we used to split a drink?/It never mattered what it was, I think/Our heads were just that close/The sweetness never lasts, you know

Novocaine: Guess what, it's Joel again. I'm not even a Joel main why is this happening.

In the truly gruesome do we trust/I will always land on you like a sucker punch/Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare

Fourth Of July: LL!Lizzie and Cleo (Lizzie POV)

I said I'd never miss you/But I guess you never know/May the bridges I have burned/Light my way back home on the fourth of July/I wish I'd known how much you loved me/I wish I cared enough to know

Favorite Record: Post DL!Jimmy

You were the song stuck in my head/Every song that I've ever loved/Play it again and again and again/And you can get what you want but it's never enough

Immortals: 3L!Grian and Scar

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass (Glass)/(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)/Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can’t/'Cause we could be immortals/Immortals/Just not for long, for long/And live with me forever now/Mmm, pull the blackout curtains down/Just not for long, for long

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC): SL!Martyn and Jimmy

I just need enough of you to dull the pain/Just to get me through the night 'till we're twins again/'Til we're stripped down to our skeletons again/'Til we're saints just swimming in our sins again/And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on/Up above our heads droning on and on and on/Keep making trouble 'til you find what you love/I need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug that

MANIA

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: 3L!Ren

I'm 'bout to go Tonya Harding on the whole world's knee/And I'm stuck, night vision, so stuck, night vision/But I come to life, come to life/Some princes don't become kings/Even at the best of times, I'm out of my mind/You only get what you grieve

The Last Of The Real Ones: Bdubs

My head is stripped, just like a screw that's been tightened too many times/When I think of you, when I think of you/I will shield you from the waves if they find you/I will protect you, I will protect you/Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one/Even if it's not true, even if it's not true, yeah

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T: DL+LimL!Etho and Joel

I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you/Or be just your friend, I love you to death, but I just can't/I just can't pretend, we weren't lovers first/Confidants but never friends, were we ever friends?/But when your stitch comes loose, I wanna sleep on/Every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you/You, I took too many hits off this memory/I need to come down/An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by/So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't/Oh n-n-no, no, this isn't how our story ends

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): LL!Bdubs

There's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you (but you)/Than to be loved by everybody but you, (but you) but you/If I could get my shit together/I'm gonna run away and never see any of you again/Never see any of you again/I hope the roof flies off and we get blown out into space/I-I always make such expensive mistakes

Church: SL!Lizzie

I love the world/But I just don't love the way it makes me feel/Got a few more fake friends/And it's getting hard to know what's real/And if death is the last appointment/Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room (Mr. Stump?)/I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom

Heaven’s Gate: LimL!Skizz (right at the end)

I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true/So please come through, honey please, please come through/Oh, go out in the world, start over again and again/As many times as you can

Champion: SL!Pearl

I got rage every day, on the inside/The only thing I do is sit around and kill the time/I'm trying to blow out the pilot light/I'm trying to blow out the light/I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe/But young enough not to know what to believe in/Young enough not to know what to believe/If I can live through this, if I can live through this/If I can live through this, I can do anything

Sunshine Riptide: LL!Scott

The world tried to burn all the mercy outta me/But you know I wouldn't let it/It tried to teach me the hard way, I can't forget it

Young And Menace: LimL!Martyn

We've gone way too fast for way too long/And we were never supposed to make it half this far/And I lived so much life, lived so much life/I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Bishops Knife Trick: Bad Boys

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate/It doesn't wanna live in a cage, a feeling that I can't housebreak/And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll/Away, I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST

Love From The Other Side: SL!Etho

I'd never go, I just want to be invited, oh, got to give up/Get the feeling, get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it/Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse/And I just about snapped, don't look back/Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Heartbreak Feels So Good: 3L!Grian

Is there a word for bad miracle?/Nobody said the road was endless/Nobody said the climb was friendless/But could we please pretend this won't end?

Hold Me Like A Grudge: DL!Pearl

(You put the "fun" into dysfunction)/Hold me, hold me like a grudge/The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, woah/Faster and faster, can't do it on my own/Part-time soulmate, full-time problem, yeah/So hold me like a grudge

Fake Out: SL!Lizzie

But I didn't take the love when I had the chance/But I swear I'm not sad anymore/So make no plans and none can be broken/No plans and none can be broken/Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?/Or do I still need more therapy?

Heaven, Iowa: 3L!Scar

And they don't know how much they’ll miss/At least until you're gone like this/Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath/Half your life you've been hooked on death"

So Good Right Now: DL!Bdubs

And I know, I know I've made mistakes, yeah/And I know, I know, but at least they were mine to make/They were mine to make/And all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with a-you and me/So, let's drive until the engine just gives out

The Pink Seashell: Ok, I cannot pull a lyric for this because it is the world’s most specific monologue, but the general message of it (“Life is a lottery and bad shit happens all the time, so might as well find happiness in the good things, even the small things.”) feels like it could be Skizz. Just trust me. This one is so fucking difficult.

I Am My Own Muse: LimL!Jimmy

Here I am, not sure you should take a chance/I like playin' dumb, lettin' you figure me out/But I was faded, in my own defense/So, drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about

Flu Game: SL!Joel

Last night I dreamt I still knew you/You/I carved out a place in this world for two/But it's empty without you/I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/All this effort to make it look effortless

Baby Annihilation: Scott

The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath

The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years): LimL+ SL!Martyn (but mostly LimL)

Passed my old street, the house I grew up in/It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead/I felt you at the beginning, but needed you at the end/We're goin' low, low, low, low

What A Time To Be Alive: SL!Bigb

When, when, when I said, "Leave me alone", this isn't quite what I meant/I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left?/So, it seems the vulture's gettin' too full to fly, oh/What a time to be alive

So Much (For) Stardust: Ren

I'm in a winter mood, dreamin' of spring now/Burnin' myself down, burnin' myself down, burnin'/I feel like something that's been stretched out over and over again/Until I'm creased, and I'm about to break down the middle/Split me right down the middle, right, right down the middle, yeah

[honkycat-reviews]

Def Leppard- Pyromania

listened on CD from 1983

summary: picture this. a young punk rock lady has reached the end of her collegiate rope and all she seems to be enjoying is fun prog rock. as if from the cosmos, def leppard descended into her listening habits like a merciful angel. i love def leppard!! they are so so fun and talented?! call me basic but i absolutely adore this album. got hysteria and am on the cd hunt for high n' dry!

background: this album is a slight departure from the more heavy-metal attitude the band had with their earlier releases (high n' dry). this is when they introduced the absolute icon Phil Collen on the guitar!!! i think his noise is integral to the commercial pop-leaning success of this album, simply because his licks are so good that you sing the guitar part (which i've only experienced with eddie van halen, randy rhodes, and george harrison).

read below for tracklist & review!

tracklist

rock! rock! (till you drop): this is the most fun way to open this album. epic thirty second opening with a killer guitar lick and iconic vocals?! i'm a lesbian, so the rock and roll male obsession with "rocking" hot chicks isn't entirely lost on me, so i honestly have just chosen to find it funny. like sure. women are fabulous. mutual understanding. in my opinion a little bit of an underrated banger.

photograph: i feel so basic loving this track so much but there's a reason this song did so well commercially. i think it's because this song emphasizes the vocals the most out of any song on the album; other tracks on the album are aiming to showcase all the instruments on a more equal spectral field. this one is much more sing-along-with-joe which works because the lyrics are easy, memorable, and fun. i need joe's syncopated singing "I! NEED! ONLY! YOUR!" injected straight into my veins.

stagefright: this is my favorite song on the album!? this is so underrated?! if i love a song, i am able to get a pretty clear imaginative movie going whenever i listen to it; and this one is CRYSTAL CLEAR. HELL YEAH!!!!! do i have any clue what he's saying? barely. but i'm rocking right there with him.

too late for love: i can appreciate a good ballad and this one is that. a good. ballad. nothing crazy but i'm not going to hate on a ballad. musical diversity! the lyrics on the verses are unique and interesting.

die hard the hunter: this is the final boss music i didn't ask for, and don't really listen to often, but once i get into the groove of this longer piece i can really enjoy it.

foolin': i saw somewhere on here somebody hating on foolin' and it made me oddly protective over the song for a bit. i think i just really like how it's mixed and the background vocals work really well with the lead vocals. is the chorus the most life-changing thing on the planet? no, but those prechoruses are bangers.

rock of the ages: for a while listening to this album, i kinda wrote this song off since it's one of their more popular ones (my innate need to be quirky and different) but the more and more i listened to it and learned the lyrics, i am officially a convert. this is fun as hell!

comin' under fire: we're back on the power ballad train and i think this is the fastest tempo ballad so i'm more of a fan. when i put this cd in my player i want to be doing a quick little dance and making this most of my curly mullet. i wanna dance. so i usually go "this one is really good" and then skip it... (sorry...) guitar is epic!!

action! not words: yeah sure. they're saying "shock me". suuuuure. i've grown an appreciation for this one.

billy's got a gun: now THIS is the power ballad i've been WAITING FOR!!! never skipping this one. the bgv on "can you feel it in the air?" are reason to listen by themself. they clearly had fun constructing this song and all the different parts working together. major banger.

[riddlerosehearts]

my ranking of the twst blazing jewel songs

ranked purely based on how pleasing they are to my ears and my personal music taste--and starting from the bottom because i think that's more interesting! i should also say i honestly like all the songs so it was difficult to rank some of them!

7. la volonté (pomefiore) - oof i feel bad about this because i really think this is SUCH a pretty and elegant song with some great lyrics, and the instrumentals and the "la la la" at the end are gorgeous. it's just not really my style of music and i don't see myself listening to it as much as the others.

6. entanglement (octavinelle) - when i first wrote this list i had entanglement at 5 and then i changed my mind. i really do like this song a lot and think the jazz instrumentals are super fun so it feels weird to place it this low. i love everyone's voices--and as a fan of a3! act addict actors i was especially excited to hear azul sing (i know he sings a bit during make a wish, but he naturally gets more spotlight here)!

5. obedience (heartslabyul) - ...i originally had this one at #6 and i still feel like i'm betraying riddle, heartslabyul as a whole, and everything i should stand for in the twst fandom by not having it higher 😭 i'm sorry this just isn't really my style of music, but the drum beat and catchy chorus are enough to push it ahead. also riddle's voice is so cute ❤️

4. far-out (scarabia) - at first i wasn't actually expecting to like this one that much but once the full song came out i realized that it's insanely catchy!!! and also i absolutely loved jamil's voice ever since i heard his VDC audition in book 5 so i've been dying to hear him sing more, and he and kalim sound amazing together in this song.

3. arbitrary cataclysm (diasomnia) - i feel like this one has kind of a similar vibe to la volonté except i like the instrumentals of it a lot more, enough to push it all the way to the top 3. something about it makes me feel nostalgic for 2000s anime and it just rocks idk. also i really like the lyrics and MALLEUS'S VOICE god he's such a good singer.

2. unrivaled aeons (ignihyde) - THIS SONG IS SUUUUUUCH A FUCKING BOP my bias toward rock music and my bias toward the shroud brothers were really fighting for number one here. by now you can tell which one won out, but this song gets me so hyped! i love how the lyrics are mostly just them shittalking the listener LMAO but i also love all the references to the fates in the lyrics!!

1. DIADEM (savanaclaw) - god this song goes so incredibly hard. i am not normally a savanaclaw stan. but i do love rock music and anything with heavier instrumentals so this one was bound to be my favorite. if anyone reading this happens to be familiar with a3!, diadem sounds like an autumn troupe song and i love it for that. also i love how ruggie's voice contrasts with jack and leona's deeper voices.

[apureniallsource]

Niall Horan is ready to put on a Show.

The former One Direction member and current Voice coach's third studio album, The Show, was born in lockdown following the release of its predecessor, Heartbreak Weather, in March 2020. After getting the chance to "sit still for the first time in probably 10 years," Horan wrote the title track, which he says "kickstarted" the rest of the record.

"The chorus is basically saying we should be grateful for what we have," Horan tells EW. "I think during the pandemic, we lost a little bit of that control we like to have as humans — then that just provoked so many bigger thoughts in my head. It opened a stream of ideas."

None of which, fans might be surprised to learn, entail emotional agony. "There's no heartbreak on this one," Horan says. "If you're coming for a heartbreak love song, I don't think you'll get it here." This, he explains, is the major difference between his latest, "more mature" outing and his previous work.

EW caught up with Horan to find out what else we can expect from The Show and his upcoming tour.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: I read that track 6, "You Should Start a Cult," was inspired by you and your girlfriend watching true-crime shows. Was there a specific show that gave you the idea?

NIALL HORAN: That's all we watch — true crime — so I couldn't even tell you what the show was, but I just thought that would be a great title for a love song, and to flip it on its head. I just got to writing a love song that sounded so extravagant, and the lyrics were gonna be huge. It's quite a small song, but some of the statements are quite large. And I love the irony of having a title like that — it sounding very angry, but it's not. It's a love song, at the end of the day.

What makes The Show different from your previous albums, Flicker and Heartbreak Weather?

It's probably the progression over the last seven years — you know, from my first album through to the second one. I think they were all good albums for where I was at that time in my life, and I think this is perfect for [where I am now]. I would say this is probably the more mature-sounding album. There's no heartbreak on this one, which allows you to write different types of songs. That's probably the biggest difference.

Do you find it more fun to write love songs versus heartbreak songs? Or did you miss writing heartbreak songs on this album?

I think they're two completely different concepts. Writing is all about where you're at and "saying what you see," to use a cliché. It's very easy to write a heartbreak song when you're heartbroken, and easy to write a love song when you're in love.

Do you have a favorite song on the album?

I struggle with this. I made it a 10-track album on purpose — to make sure that, hopefully, when people get to 10 they want to go back to the top and listen to the first one again. You know, instead of having a 16-track album and hoping that it's nearly finished. I've got a few favorites. They've all got a different vibe and a different concept and a different musical element that makes 'em good. If I was to pick one now, I'd probably say "You Could Start a Cult." That or "The Show." Probably "The Show," actually.

Are there songs that didn't make the album that might see the light of day on something in the future?

I definitely had some tough decisions to make. I wanted to love every song. I don't know. I'll start writing again at some point, and if I can outdo what I have left over, then fair enough. There are a couple lying around that could be made into something, but as of now they're not going anywhere but my emails or my drafts.

It's been so long since you've been able to tour. What are you most looking forward to?

Just seeing the fans. I spent so much of my career seeing them every night. I'm ready to get back out and play the album I never got to play live, and play this new one, and just create a show — a really good one. I'm already trying to put plans together for how the set would look. I'm just excited to feel that buzz again. It's strange for me that I haven't been on a proper stage in, like, nearly five years. When you think about it like that, it's like, "Oh God, I need to get back on the road."

You mentioned you'll be playing some of Heartbreak Weather on the tour as well. Any chance you might bring some guests on stage?

Oh, yes, for sure. Any city I go to, if I'm friends with an artist from that city and they happen to be there, I'll always see if I can get them to come up and sing one of theirs or one of mine with me. I think about shows like in L.A., with my collaboration with Julia [Michaels]. It could make for a really good gig. Don't want to say too much, 'cause Julia might say no. So that could change, but that would be my ideal: maybe someone I know from Chicago, or someone I know from San Fran, or whatever...

Who would be your No. 1 pick to perform with?

Springsteen would be pretty sick. Imagine being up in Asbury Park and playing with Bruce Springsteen. I performed with Taylor [Swift] before at Wembley Stadium, and that was magic. Obviously, I would love to do it again. She's a busy lady at the moment.

I mean, she's been bringing people out on her Eras Tour, so you never know.

She knows where I am.

The Show is out June 9.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

I have not shared in a bit but I’ve finally got a lil’ something today. This is another snippet from something I was previously calling a secret project, but now that the prologue and first chapter of the series has been shared and my name is linked to the series, I can reveal that this is from my episode of Star Trek: Redemption, a birthday gift for the lovely @raenestee 🎉

Also going to take this opportunity to plug the intro @facewithoutheart has written. You do not have to be a Trek fan to read it, either. It’s an adventurous, fun and sweet ride, and the rest of the series promises to be amazing as well. Lots of wonderful people working on it and bringing some fantastic ideas to the plate.

Anywho! On to my excerpt. (With nothing redacted this time! )

“Traveling the universe isn’t as glamorous as the Starfleet pamphlets made it sound, is it?”

Baz exhales through his nose by way of an answer.

“No, it isn’t.”

“You know this trade agreement is important,” I say quietly.

He nods. He’s got his arms crossed tightly and he’s looking at his feet, his toes pushing pebbles along the path. He looks so young all of a sudden.

“I know.”

“And just because our first few encounters in this quadrant were disastrous, doesn’t automatically mean this one will be too.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yes, but don’t those other experiences mean we should be cautious?” He turns and looks at me finally. His look is defiant. Challenging. But I’m not here for a fight.

I keep my tone gentle and do my best to coax him with my words.

“Cautious, yes. And I think we are being so. But Baz, we can’t just close ourselves off from everyone just because there’s a possibility we may get hurt. We won’t survive that way.”

A small update on my progress, if you like reading about these things. I got a good bit done on this sucker in later April/Early May but ended up chopping a good 5k (nearly everything I wrote in the last 5 weeks) recently because it was a lot of slow moving and boring exposition that I’ve decided to just recap instead. This seems to be the story of my writing these days. :vibin:

But! This bit I am determined to save and rework somehow. Wish me luck!

Thank you to all the wonderful people tagging me lately. Tagging y’all back today and then some:

@fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @technetiumai @ebbpettier @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @rimeswithpurple @shrekgogurt @confused-bi-queer @forabeatofadrum @martsonmars @hushed-chorus @valeffelees @nightimedreamersworld @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @palimpsessed @theearlgreymage @nausikaaa @captain-aralias @larkral @thewholelemon @letraspal @mysterioussheep @whogaveyoupermission @sosoapi @johnwgrey And anyone else who sees this and wants to share 💛

[wifiwuxians]

20 questions writer meme.

tagged by @heyholmesletsgo THANK YOUUU

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

not counting things i'd rather remained anonymous, 21!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

513,621 lol

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mdzs, vaguely tgcf, hotline miami (though mostly past tense) and we'll see about the future

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wei Wuxian's Super Special Super Secret Book Club still reigns supreme with 1229 kudos, and will most likely be my legacy despite it being the second fic i ever wrote for the fandom (i think?)

If You're Reading This, It's Too Late with 513, one would think i'd still be messing around with this AU but i'm happy to leave it where it is and just keep messing around with the crackship

Dawn Chorus, my most precious baby, at 251 by some miracle despite being oc/canon. you guys spoiled me with the love for this one tbh. none of my other xue yang centric works got anywhere near this close and i'm at peace with that because he's bonking my oc in this one and they have a kid.

The Book Club Extras at 232, which is hilarious when compared to the original but at least new readers will see there's more and maybe in the year 2055 i will publish them for fun

Frozen Pond with 156 at the end of the list, written for my friend @petitjams and taking place in a silly AU we made together (wen chao stays winning on here which is very funny)

i'm attributing the popularity of the first two to mostly being centered around super popular characters, because my later stuff is naturally better yet struggling haha

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

always unless they're like just emoji, because i like conversation! though i may also reply with a little heart hehe

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i wouldn't call it angstiest ending, it's bittersweet, but the threads that bind us is my top pick. and it also needs more readers so go read it. your hands and mine has a bit of an 'angsty' ending but only for song lan. xue yang had it coming :p 💖

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

excluding the two above, so far they all have a happy ending, or at least neutral??? i'd say Book Club, though, because that's the massive 'everybody lives!!' silly fixit fic

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope. i hope i didn't just jinx it. i get hate on art and through anon though! woo! (not anymore on here tho thank god)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do and i feel like it sucks so i almost always end up fading to black LMAO my actual explicit stuff remains private... it's like too embarrassing for me. i got judged for it as an 18 year old and 10 years later haven't gotten over it. i like bondage and bdsm though and that seems to crop up in private 😏

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i do on occasion! i love roleplaying them, but the only one i have out there is The Way To His Heart Is Through His Stomach (Oh God Please Don't Eat Me), which mixes mdzs and tgcf characters in a unique setting :3

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge, but i've had art stolen plenty so i wouldn't even be surprised

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few have been translated into russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

NOT YET BUT IT'S IN THE CARDS

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

all time? jeez. somebody tell me why i always freeze up and go blank when asked these simple questions? it's like i forget who the fuck i am. i feel like i should also say songxiao? but they're relatively new so it doesn't seem correct. fuck it. my all time favorite ship is [DATA MISSING OR CORRUPTED-- PLEASE PROCEED TO NEXT QUESTION]

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

haha... (looks at my abandoned hlm fic with the seventh chapter halfway written) haha...

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'd definitely say dialog. it makes sense, since the stuff i'm most used to doing is drawing silly comics. i also like to ping-pong emotions around and feel like i'm pretty good at that too

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

using the same words over and over and feeling like i never write Enough, like everything is always light and never in depth. i don't like making scenes too heavy with padding but i also feel like i need to find a balance

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'll do it only if it's a language i speak!!! this doesn't apply to peppering words like gege and stuff just for funsies. i think the best way to go about it is to just tell the audience what language they're speaking in that moment

19. First fandom you wrote for?

we're gonna have to go back to when i was 10 years old here lol... i think it was tokyo mew mew in terms of stuff i put online (oh god)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

it's hard to pick favorites, but i once again must say the threads that bind us in terms of work i'm most proud of.

i tag whoever sees it, plus @sugarapplebaby because ily

[masonhawthorne]

What I read in April!

Many times this month I have thought "oh no! I've not posted April's reading list yet!" and then I continued to not post it.

But now is the time.

The Hungry Earth, Nicholas Kaufman ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Heiress of Duniyasar, Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Obsidian Island, Aiden Powell ⭐️⭐️

From the Depths Anthology, Ed. Mike Ashley ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Wheel of the Infinite, Martha Wells ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Community Minded (ss), Carmilla Voiez ⭐️

Conversion Therapy (ss), Carmilla Voiez ⭐️⭐️

Their Heart a Hive, Fox N. Locke ⭐️⭐️

City of Bones, Martha Wells ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Meeting Infinity, Ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Rosemary & Iron, Dorian Valentine ⭐️

Bridging Infinity, Ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Reach for Infinity, Ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Infinity's End, Ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️

The Beetle, Richard Marsh ⭐️⭐️

The Forty Hour Train Murder, Derek Des Anges ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Oedipus the King(sp), Sophocles trans. David Greene ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cold Fire, Dean R Koontz 😡

The Rise & Fall of the Third Reich(nf), William l Shirer ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

So this month felt pretty slow, but I actually did get through quite a few books. Where I really got bogged down was Cold Fire by Dean Koontz, but we will discuss that in a moment.

This was my first reading of Oedipus the King in any form, and I have to say that it was a fantastic experience. Even getting the book was a really nice experience. Not that there are many occasions where getting a book is a bad experience. Anyways. I had decided to stop by the local Collective Bookshop in town after work, because I had seen their posts on the facebook community groups about how they were raising funds for the next year of their operation, and I thought well, I could be part of the community and go buy a cup of coffee and maybe a book or two. So I did! It's a weird sort of space up some stairs from the main road, and I think it probably used to be an apartment or something because the layout is not very shop-like. Which is nice, the different rooms each have some seating space, and every wall is full of shelving which is full of books. Different genres in different rooms, artwork on the tiny bits of wall not obscured by books, and a decent space for small community events like book launches, art shows, and video game nights. I found a very nice copy of Oedipus the King, and my sole complaint is that it is a standalone play, and now I really want to read the other two Oedipus plays that Sophocles wrote. I also found a paperback of Goodbye to All That by Robert Graves, which I haven't gotten around to reading yet. But y'know. Soon.

Oedipus the King is one of those plays that as I was reading it, my latent theatre kid pathology started waking up. I could imagine how I would stage it, and the kind of casting that I would want to do, and how many fun ways you could use the chorus for dramatic effect. I even know which local theatre group I would trust to do the staging with enough flamboyant set dressing and costume design. I read it on the train to Sydney, now and then reading aloud some of the most killer lines for the friends I was travelling with. If you like reading plays, do give this one a go, the dramatic irony is delicious, and just about every character has some ripper smart arse lines.

And from there, we'll have to discuss something less fun. Cold Fire by Dean Koontz. Now, granted, the first three quarters of this book are very fun. It's an action-movie-like plot with some pretty cool set pieces, and characters that are fairly cardboard cut-out-y but in a way that works just fine for an action thriller. Unfortunately after all of that run-up, the book entirely fails to stick the landing in a way which retroactively makes the whole thing awful. The plot is essentially that there is a man travelling around the USA (and around the world), showing up in random places just in time to save random people from random events where they otherwise would have been killed. He then leaves without sharing his identity or sticking around to talk to reporters about his deeds, and so for a long while, this goes under the radar as a bunch of unrelated local interest stories. Until one day he happens to perform one of these rescues while a journalist is already on site, interviewing someone else, and witnesses the whole event.

The journalist corners the guy, gets his name, and they part ways. She then goes back to her unsatisfying job, writing about small town stuff, and she gets an idea. Maybe she should investigate the guy, and find out what he's really up to. So she finds a whole bunch of news reports that can be linked back to him, and starts putting together a timeline of the crazy rescues he's been doing. Meanwhile this guy is off rescuing some people as usual, and so on and so forth. Eventually the journalist decides to track him down at home, and finds his house, starts canvassing people who know him to find information, and then she shows up at his place and demands to be let in with the threat of writing a big story about what he's been doing. So he lets her in, and at this point the story falls apart.

Cold Fire sets us up with a few options for what might be happening, some of which are very cool, some of which are a bit goofy, and then it goes with the goofy option, with a side order of misused psychological terminology, and a baffling about-face from action packed set pieces, to a sedate tour of a small town, including a long slow interlude at a retirement home. Apparently, the main guy is a psychic, with DID (not that what is represented here resembles DID, but we'll get to that), and one of his alternate personalities is eeeeevil, and has been doing all of the horrible scary things that the protags have been stressing out about. Such horrible scary things as: feeding death threats and psychic torture directly into the journalist woman's mind, while they're supposedly falling deeply in love over the course of three days, and she sets out to 'cure' his DID with the Power of a Good Woman.

The thing is, the 'DID' in this story sure does read a lot more like maladaptive daydreaming. Apparently after the trauma of watching his parents be murdered as a kid, this guy got heavily invested in a sci-fi novel about a kid who speaks to an alien living in a space ship in the pond on his family farm. He then psychically then manifests his own 'alien presence' on his grandparent's farm, but adds the figure of an evil alien who wants to do bad and naughty things. The character 'gets messages' from the 'good alien' which are how he gets the information on how to perform his daring rescues, and he has nightmares about the 'evil alien', and is afraid that the 'evil alien' is going to show up and do...something bad. The alien 'personalities' aren't taking over so that the guy can get through a truamatic time, they're fantasies that he has the power to make visible because he's a psychic.

Anyway, the whole thing's a moot point because after a long, boring conversation at the retirement home, the journalist loves him hard enough to exorcise the mental illness out of him or whatever. It sucked, and at that point I was so annoyed at the experience of reading this book that I had to put it down and do some vigorous pacing around my office.

Did I mention that the 'evil alien' (the main dude) psychically tortures the journalist woman and threatens to kill her? Like a lot? In graphic detail? And she decides that she needs to marry this guy? Immediately?

Ugh.

A more interesting reading experience was The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, by William L Shirer. The author had been a journalist, posted in Germany for the duration of WW2, and after the war had access to files and documents that the US seized after the fall of the Reich. It is a very interesting book as an artifact of the time it was written in, and as a recount of first-person experiences of the author being a reporter in that time and place. The of-its-time of it has bizarre moments, though. For instance there's a vibrant homophobia which pops up at various points throughout the book. It was striking how often the author was able to rightly point to examples of Germans being 'duped' by what he thought of as obvious propaganda, and outright fabrications, but then that he turns around and does the same thing with his own prejudice. It's an interesting example of reportage which makes use of the writer's own experiences, but I probably wouldn't rely on it for strict factual accuracy for events outside of the author's personal experience.

I'll finish off here with an honorable mention for The Hungry Earth. It wasn't the greatest book I've ever read, but it was fun! It is what I would call a 'fungal horror', and it is actually a fairly shining example of its genre. Finally. I think fungus has such a great potential for horror writing, but it seems like every time I find one, it ends up being bad in weird and uncomfortable ways. Usually to do with gender. If you want to have fun, fungal body horror, check out The Hungry Earth.

And that's that for that.

[fiorimaya]

hiii since you seem to be doing a lot of electric mayhem stuff,, could u maybe do a floyd pepper x reader😳😳 only if you want to no pressure ofc

Sure thing!! :D Hope you enjoy!

Floyd had started his solo career, and it was off to a pretty good start. His name was known well from him being with the Electric Mayhem, so that helped a lot. The band had ultimately called it quits and remained in contact while they started doing their own thing.

And you were one of the biggest supporters of his new career. You had been his supporter for everything, actually; given that you and Floyd had grown up together. You lived on the same street and did basically everything together throughout your childhood and teen years. You always supported his passion and then supported the band in every way you could once he joined it.

It was just a couple months before, though, that you two had become something romantic. Not long after the band split up. You had liked him for quite some time but never made a move of any sort. It was actually him who initiated the relationship. Turns out he'd been feeling something for you as well, and finally got the courage to tell you.

It had been a great couple of months with him. You would go over to his apartment and help him write songs. You knew how to play guitar, thanks to him- he had taught you back in the day. It definitely came in handy now. The present day was another songwriting day for the two of you. Floyd had already released a handful of the songs you had written together, but he was working on an album and needed just one more song to make it ten. You were sitting at the end of his bed with your guitar, and he was against the headboard with his. The first verse and chorus were finished, and the second verse was close to finished.

You wrote down the next chord above the lyric that it went with, and when you looked up you noticed Floyd looked deep in thought. "Floyd?"

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?"

He smiled a bit and nodded before laying his guitar beside of him on the bed. He sat up straight and reached for your hand. Without putting your own guitar down, you held the neck of it slowly and used your free hand to take his hand.

He rubbed the back of your hand gently with his thumb. "I was just thinking."

"I could tell," you laughed a little. "What were you thinking about?"

"You... us..."

That made you a little nervous. What did he mean by that? Was he ending it with you already? You swallowed hard, and he had noticed you seemed a little uneasy. He was about to continue but you accidentally stopped him for a moment. "Are you gonna break up with me?"

He let out that raspy laugh that always made your heart do backflips and shook his head. "Nuh uh. Never." He planted a kiss on your hand with that.

You felt your cheeks get warm as you smiled. You looked down and giggled before sighing a breath of relief. Finally, you looked back up at him as your smile grew; and your smile always made everything right in his world.

"Then what about us?" You asked.

"I was just thinking how lucky I am. I'm lucky that I got to grow up with you, to know you so well... I was thinking about how you've always been my biggest support, along with my parents of course. You always believed in me, and made that especially known on the days I didn't believe in myself. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have given up even before the band got started. If I never thanked you for that before, I'm thanking you now."

You were a blushing mess at that point. "I've always believed in you, Floyd. I always knew you were going to do big things with your music."

Less than half an hour later, you two had finished the song. Floyd picked up the notebook that had the new song written in it and read through the lyrics. He nodded his head a little before setting it back down. "I think this is it. The last song for the album."

"Really?" You beamed.

"Yeah!" He leaned forward and gave you a soft kiss. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"Cuddle time?"

You giggled and put your guitar down beside of the bed. He did the same and moved the notebook as well before laying down and opening his arms to you. You crawled back onto the bed and then into his arms. He'd always hold you close to him, so securely. It always made you feel safe there, like that, in his arms. This "cuddle time" had become a habit every time you were at each other's apartment. You two always just laid there cuddling, talking about this, that, or whatever.

This time, the talking was cut a little short. Floyd could tell you had fallen asleep by the pattern of your breathing. He glanced down at you and couldn't help but think about how adorable you looked sleeping. He gently kissed your forehead and closed his eyes. "Sleep well, (adjective you prefer)." And before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep himself.

[ahungeringknife]

365: May 8

Venus' sky was a slick yellow-green. A soft rain slipped from the perpetual clouds that always seemed to cover the campus around the Ishtar Collective. It muddled Kaley's vision as she was laid on her back in the mud and grass. The rest of Glitterbomb was doing the same. All silent and still as corpses. A bird flew over them. A Venus Poppycock, that's what they were called. Technically a lizard with wings, since avians hadn't spawned from the Traveler's Light here on Venus, but everyone called it a bird. They weren't like the little flying dragonets. It was small. Only the size of a wren, or a chickadee.

"We should go, right?" Nef asked from a few feet away.

"I think I need to lay here a bit longer," Grey said.

Comms fell quiet again for a few more minutes. Behind them the massive unwinding gate was closed but hummed softly with Vex energy. The spire hung as a mocking lattice in the air off towards the cliffs, curling with potential energy.

"Anyone want to talk about it?" Archie asked.

"No," Kaley's voice said, joining everyone's chorus over comms.

There was quiet again.

"We should though," Archie said. She turned her head when he sat up. Like the rest of them he'd long since lost his regular armor amid the unbuilding of Vex construction and Reggie had had to remake it all a new out of Vex pieces. Kaley could feel every piece of her new coat and armor. She could feel the way the dead Vex reached out to connect to her Light. It didn't speak but the helmet shivered and shimmered around her head like a living thing. The Vex that Amelia had made all this from were long dead but if she listened too closely she could hear it still.

"I don't even know what to talk about," Grey said, still on the ground. "I don't even know what happened."

"Rigel, Kaley, you know anything about this?" Archie asked.

"The Vex are not my area of expertise," Rigel said, voice strangely droning, glitchy almost.

"Kaley?" Archie prodded when she wasn't forthcoming.

She looked over at Rigel laying next to her. His helmet was almost a mirror of her own, a Vex head cracked open around a glass void. His was the shape of a harpy, while her's was a goblin. He looked back at her in that unflinching facade. But she knew. He'd seen it too. They'd both seen it. Down amid the Gorgons. She'd almost gotten lost but a voice in the network had brought her back to the others. She'd just seen a Warlock against the darkness of the labyrinth, a Vex lattice around his head like a noose. She thought it had been Rigel. When she'd found the others Rigel had said she'd been followed by something the others couldn't quite see. A figure in the dark.

When little Kassy had first asked her to help her on Venus weeks ago now she'd read up on some papers about the place. Nothing by Osiris. Mostly because everyone just wrote around him and included him. There was nothing about the Vex or Venus that didn't have his thoughts trailing through and personally Kaley found Osiris' research dry, difficult, to read, and completely self important to the point it was boring. And she'd come across Pahanin and his rambling madness a Warlock had written down one time. Probably just to shut him up. But she remembered the names he'd said. Over and over like if he stopped he wouldn't remember them. That no one would remember them. Kabr, a Titan, and Praedyth the Warlock, who'd been lost in a Vault of Glass where time stretched to the ends of the cosmos in all directions, melting together into the Black Garden and the fabric of reality.

They had both seen a Warlock down in the labyrinth. And all she could think of were the ramblings of a mad man. She knew Rigel had read the same report. She knew because she'd sent it to him. They'd had a little giggle about it at the time. What foolish things Hunters could think.

He was not telling Archie.

"I study birds, Archibald. Not the Vex," she said as the silence started to stretch almost too long and turned back up to face the sky.

She was also not telling Archie.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

My youngest son came home today His friends marched with him all the way The flutes and drums beat out the time As in his box of polished pine Like dead meat on a butcher's tray My youngest son same home today

My youngest son was a fine young man With a wife, a daughter and a son A man he would have lived and died Till by a bullet sanctified Now he's a saint or so they say They brought their saint home today

Above the narrow Belfast streets An Irish sky looks down and weeps On children's blood in gutters spilled For dreams of freedom unfulfilled As part of freedom's price to pay My youngest son came home today

My youngest son came home today His friends marched with him all the way The flutes and drums beat out the time As in his box of polished pine Like dead meat on a butcher's tray My youngest son came home today And this time he's home to stay

+

[I was about to post this piece when I heard the news of Ben Zussman's death. So, posted that instead. Now, here's this. I hope this war ends soon, so I can get back to writing about other things. Working on my novel. But this is where I am. So this is what I write. Also, if you read it all and decide to share, please paste Abu Saif's essay into the first two comments on your post as I do below.]

I'm pasting in the first two comments an essay from the NYT by عاطف ابوسيف(Atef abu Saif). I’m violating the paywall because it's so important and you might not have a subscription. Sue me. If you manage to read the title and can continue, read all the way to the end. If I believe in the idea of sin, I believe it is a sin to look away. I began to write an introduction, but it turned into something longer. A lot longer. The longest post I’ve ever written. So, feel free to skip my meandering and oh so sentimental musings and read the essay. In any case, I urge you to read his essay. More than that. I dare you. Especially if you support this war.

This post will be difficult for some to read. It sure as hell was difficult to write. There’s complexity here if you recognize the horrors the IDF is perpetrating in Gaza. Even if you, unlike me, stand with those who think them necessary and justified. It’s not simple to write then. But if you make your way through it and then read the essay in the comment, maybe you’ll understand something better. Though perhaps not more sympathetically. Just maybe a bit better.

I’m between the hammer and the anvil with regard to the IDF. I’m in no way an apologist. I’ve been clear with my son that I would support him if he refused. There’s no chance of that. But I wanted him to know. I’ll write something else about that later. These are issues about which I will repeat myself.

But I also reject that people serving in the IDF are like Nazi stormtroopers, or the majority of those serving in it are the equivalent of Hamas, even though I have friends I deeply respect who have presented me with those opinions explicitly. I hope that they are able to read this. It’s again about my children, as Abu Saif’s is in large part. War, for me, is always about children. Always. And, as I wrote last week, maybe if we all recognized that, there wouldn’t be more war.

We should all listen to Eric Bogle’s song “My Youngest Son Came Home Today” more often. Especially the rendition here by the PS22 chorus.

My three children came to me for Shabbat dinner this past Friday. We're all still getting used to the divorce. One meal with me, one at home with their mother, a 20 minute walk from my place. Sometimes, it’s dinner with me and lunch with her. Sometimes vice versa. Once in a while, all five of us together. Their mother sees them more on Shabbat. It’s the nature of things. That’s their home. I see them for two hours. Precious hours. But I see them.

We generally have a very nice time. But even when not, I’d rather have a horrible time with them than a wonderful time with anyone else. They are never eager to walk those 20 minutes, as much, I think because of what that time and distance represents as the effort required to make the short trek. Sometimes one or more of them arrives grumpy. They are teenagers, after all, in the wake of a domestic disruption. But usually, even then, things loosen up. I make food they like. I make sure things are clean and orderly and calm. That things feel stable and safe.

Finally, in the past few weeks, I have prevailed on them to enter without knocking. “It's your father's home,” I tell them. “You don't need to knock to enter your father's home. You aren't guests. You have a place here. Always.” I don’t know if it makes a difference to them. But it does to me. I hate it when they knock. They’re my kids.

I only see my elder daughter on Shabbat. She was recently inducted into the education corps for her compulsory service. (The army aspires to be a source of knowledge for people who have been deprived.) She began her service just a few weeks before October 7th. A member of her course was from Kibbutz Beeri. He was home for Shabbat and caught up in the massacre. Even in the education corps, one may be connected to the dead.

But she’s nowhere near any danger. She says she’s a bit embarrassed when she’s in uniform on the street, or on a bus, and people bid her “watch over yourself”. Or “May the Name guard you.” I tell her she’s a member of a corporate body that puts itself in danger to keep them safe, even if that’s not her posting. They are wishing her well because they need to wish all of our soldiers well. Because, often, they can’t wish family members and friends and friends’ children well at that moment. They need to say it. For themselves. And she provides them with an occasion. A sort of gift she can give them. Also, I want everyone to bless my children. To wish them safety and protection. To want their wellbeing. Who wouldn’t?

Sometimes, the one who gives the blessing benefits more than the one who receives it. Every Shabbat when I see them, before we eat, like many Jewish parents, I move from one to the next, in order of their birth, place my hands upon their heads, and recite the tripartite priestly blessing from the Book of Numbers. Three blessings in one. An ancient bargain!

May The LORD bless you and guard you. May The LORD shine His face upon you and grant you favor. May The LORD raise His face to you and grant you peace.

My favorite moment of the week. Routine, a formula, but never formulaic. The regularity never diminishes its emotional charge. They are often distracted or bored or grumpy. Though when he was little, my son, who was born with a galaxy-sized heart – when he was two, one of his caregivers told us “he’s simply full of love” – would respond by putting one hand on my head and one on his mother’s. And we would grin and sometimes giggle a bit. And feel blessed. Even when I’m irritable or tired, blessing them always redirects me toward meaning, if only for a moment.

I remember the first time I did this. In a hospital recovery room. Their mother looked up at me, tired beyond tired, and said “should we give our daughter a b’rakhah?” A blessing. We’d been preparing for nine months. In some senses longer than that. Since we were engaged and hoping to give one another children. So, I’d been waiting for the right moment, and I was about to say something. Our daughter had been born on Friday morning. We’d lost track of time. The labor had been so long, and the delivery had not been easy. But Shabbat, commencing with sundown, pulled us back on schedule. We always measure time from Shabbat to Shabbat. From that moment on, I would measure it from blessing to blessing.

I had been about to say something about it being time. Our first time. But she preempted me. It was right for her to claim the prerogative to prompt us. Earned. Childbirth is never egalitarian. And despite the long anticipation of this moment I’d imagined, even dreamed, the substance of its performance, the special mix of gravity and joy, the glow of it felt surprising. We’d placed our fingertips on her small, warm, downy head. So delicate. So fragile. With barely any pressure. She was in a deep sleep. Being born is very hard work. Especially when it takes so long. In a matter of weeks, if not days, we’d be longing for her to finally sleep. So, we could collapse or work or read or watch TV. Mostly collapse. But at that moment, I wanted her to be awake. I wanted her to hear us. I wanted her to watch us and feel our hands upon her, blessing her with a wish of peace. Shalom. A more expansive term than peace that also connotes health and fullness and well-being. A blessing that channels something beyond language, something language can only summon but not contain. I wanted her to feel it. I remember crying a little. I think I did. I hope I did.

I wonder how Atef Abu Saif blesses his children.

I don’t connect so much to the idea of a “personal God.” Sometimes I wish I did. I wish I had an almighty and benevolent addressee who would hear me. “Nigh is The LORD to all who call upon Him,” as the psalmist says. But I’ve never really felt it. That presence. I’ve studied some theology. A body of knowledge I admire. I wrote my Bachelor thesis on Maimonides’ reading of Job in his Guide of the Perplexed. A dazzling text that I never found as cold as some find its rationalism. Rather, it’s literary and bold and charged with a kind of passion, with humanity, even as the author, that monumental Sage and philosopher strives to distinguish God absolutely from anything human. A deity so far beyond humanity that ascriptions of physicality to him in scripture must be read strictly and scrupulously as metaphors. Yet his text sings with humanity. I’ve studied mystical theologies as well. They have moved me in similar fashion. Though a different flavor.

But despite all the humanity in theology, I’ve never felt that immediacy of touch or attention or found the arguments compelling enough to engender belief in God’s objective existence (and now the RaMBaM, the acronym by which we refer to Maimonides, is shouting in my head that God is not an object, and the idea of His objective existence is idolatrous). Yet if God is so elusive for me personally, I still find the conceit powerful. Imputing a name and a face to the Cosmos, with apologies again to the RaMBaM, whether or not it’s an intentional power, is very alluring. So, in that hospital room, my fingers timid on that little head, the regularity of my hours-old daughter’s breathing so miraculous, we pronounced the ancient formula. Please God, let her be well. Let her be whole. Let her have peace. And then we had a son. And then another daughter. Each a blessing. And every week I bless them.

So, once again, this past Friday night I blessed them. Let them have peace. Shalom. Wellbeing. Let everything be well with them. I know it won’t always be. There will be struggles and illnesses and disappointments. Maybe heartbreak. Certainly heartbreak of some sort. I’ve had more than my fair share. Not only recently. Atef Abu Saif, whom I hope you will read below, has had more. Much more. Hard to imagine any Gazan who hasn’t. There are so many kinds of heartbreak. It’s endemic to humanity. To life. Only a babe who dies very shortly after birth never knows heartbreak. Not to know heartbreak seems inhuman. “Nigh is The LORD to the brokenhearted,” says he psalmist. But nonetheless. Please spare them that. Please. When I bless them, I want to feel power flowing through me, pouring out of my hands onto them. Enveloping them in radiance. I want to be a conduit for divine favor. Let God’s face recognize them, let them be seen by the Cosmos, and be received in kindness, and receive kindness. As I said, giving a blessing can be more for the one blessing than for the blessed.

This Friday night, they barely broke their chatter when I went around to bless them. As usual. I did it quickly. I usually do. But it never undercuts the profundity of it. And like many parents, I kissed the tops of their heads as I removed my hands. My son, who recently surpassed me in height by a few centimeters, now bends his head down so I can do this.

These days, that final word in the mystic formula, shalom, feels particularly powerful, particularly heavy. Even more than usual. Despite its range of abstract meanings, it always feels so specific and concrete as their heads round into my palms. And I stand in a posture of power. The ultimate patriarchal pose (though, of course, many women, like their mother, do it as well). But perversely, it makes my powerlessness palpable. I won’t be able to preserve them from suffering and deprivation and disappointment. I have, myself, presented them with such experiences already. It has been a difficult few years. And as my yearning for power underscores my powerlessness, the blessing becomes a plea. Please. Bless them with peace. Please. Please. Please. Always. But especially now. Shalom.

My daughter had told me earlier that day that because of “the situation”, they are going to start sending members of her unit home with rifles when they set out for their near weekly Shabbat furloughs. I think it's ridiculous. She’s in the education corps. It seems both thematically incongruous and useless in a practical sense for her to travel with a semi-automatic assault rifle. A machine gun. I tell her she’ll never use it. And she shouldn’t. The only place she might do so would be if “something happens” on the way. But fifty more visits to the shooting range wouldn’t equip her for that situation. Excellent field soldiers sometimes fail to pass anti-terror training, teaching people how to use a weapon in the middle of an attack in a civilian area. Though we send armed soldiers into civilian areas right now. We always have and we always do. But those aren’t ‘our’ civilians. Aren’t we supposed to hold every human life as equally sacred? We claim to. We don’t. Obviously. No army does. Laws and ethics of warfare don’t. But that doesn’t make it ok.

She mentions the attack that happened the previous day. Two Palestinians from East Jerusalem opened fire on a bus stop at the entrance to West Jerusalem. And two soldiers and one civilian shot them dead. Three civilians died. Four, actually. I’ll get to that in a moment. Several are in the hospital. I admitted that maybe then. If she had a clear shot. But that’s crap. The presence of mind to operate a weapon under pressure without extensive training? I imagine her quickly swinging her rifle around to the front of her body, quickly inserting a magazine, cocking it, bracing the butt against her shoulder, aiming, finding a clear sight line, and pulling the trigger. All while under fire herself. Yeah. That’s not happening. She should get herself behind a very solid object or lie flat on the ground with her hands over her head.

Then my son mentions that one of the people who was killed, the fourth, had jumped from his car and it was he who shot the terrorists. A 38-year-old lawyer named Yuval Kestleman who served in a reserve combat unit and carried a licensed handgun. I saw the security footage. As the two off-duty soldiers had turned and trained their weapons on him, he'd dropped his gun, sunk to his knees, ripped open his jacket so they could see he wasn’t wearing an explosive belt, all the while calling out to them in Hebrew, identifying himself as a Jew and an Israeli. And one of the soldiers, a member of the radical right-wing settler “hilltop youth” who was on his way back to Gaza, shot him dead.

There’s a controversy over whether the soldier who shot him can be excused. Part of a broader controversy about what constitutes a “neutralized” suspect or perpetrator and the ruled of engagement. Some, like the awful Chief Rabbi of Safed, explicitly support summary executions. Even if they are lying unconscious. Just shoot them. The ideological community this soldier affiliates with holds this position. And if you get it wrong, well, as our Prime Minister initially said about this incident, “that’s life”. Really.

I don’t know the soldier. Just his ethos. And he expressed glee at having killed someone, at least before he found out whom he killed. “Everyone wants an ‘x’.” A kill. A lie. Many if not most hope they never have to. But he did. It’s hard for me to believe he couldn’t see Yuval Kestleman drop his weapon, fall to his knees, and raise his hands over his head, hear him calling out in Hebrew.

I’ve already argued about it with one total stranger, a security guard at a building I was entering, holding forth with another security guard about the case. I couldn’t help myself. “You don’t fire at someone if they are on their knees with their hands above their head.” He responded with “and what if it had been a terrorist?” I repeated that you don’t shoot someone on their knees with their hands over their head. And the footage is quite clear. My daughter would never do that, even if she could get in position to do it. My son wouldn’t. None of their friends would. I can’t imagine any of he people I served with doing that. Though it’s been a long time. Maybe some would. Certainly not those I trained and commanded. But we send lots of people like this soldier and this security guard to Gaza. And sometimes people like Atef Abu Saif and his son and his mother face soldiers like these.

My son is 16, a year old than Atef Abu Saif's son, about whom you will read below, if you have the courage to witness. You should try. The act of witnessing is a sacred act. And sometimes, it’s all we can do. I know that telling people what they should do is both strategically and morally a sketchy thing. Lots of things these days are strategically and morally sketchy. I suppose it will be much easier for those who don’t live here, haven’t served, don’t have children serving in Gaza, or know children of friends serving in Gaza, or have neighbors serving in Gaza, or. . .well basically almost everyone who lives here. Barring ultra-Orthodox and Arab communities. He’s an elite athlete, a student at an academy for dedicated and ambitious and highly disciplined basketball players located 40 minutes from Gaza, much closer than his older sister’s army base.

My youngest is 13, the only one who lives with their mother full time. I see her once in the middle of the week as well. She comes for dinner. Or we go out. We always have fun. Last week, I made a pasta she loves, and we watched The Godfather. She shares much more with me now than she did when I lived with her. And I feel guilty that her mother shoulders most of the hard parenting bits, though we both try to share those as well. Some things are overdetermined by the physics of space and time. And sometimes a distance of 20 minutes might as well be 500 kilometers.

At some point, as was inevitable, the conversation shifted to “the situation”. My son says he believes this war is necessary. That it will make us safer. That the civilians dying in Gaza, with whom he says he sympathizes, are all Hamas' fault. ‘Look what they made us do!’ He says his opinions have changed since October 7th. I think that's Hamas' fault. His older sister says she trusts the army that they are doing everything they can and know what they are doing and she thinks we must all have faith in its commanders. She’s very firm about this. Too firm? Does she really think this? Or does she need to believe it? They have friends serving in Gaza. They know people who were murdered on October 7th. They know someone who is being held hostage.

My youngest offers that for every Hamas member we kill, we make three more. A common saying among war skeptics and opposers. Maybe she heard it somewhere. Maybe the formulation is obvious. Maybe she uses the number three because our minds so commonly divide things into threes. Lots of theories about that. Aristotle, in his Poetics, says all stories must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. We invoke the names of three patriarchs in our liturgy. It takes Abraham and Isaac three days to reach Moriah, where the former, a father, binds the latter, his son, on an altar and raises a knife over him. Three blessings make up the blessing I bestow upon them every Shabbat as a plea for their shalom, their wellbeing. Three bears. Three pigs. Three caskets in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Some say you surface three times before you drown. Like Emily Dickinson.

Three times, 'tis said, a sinking man Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever To that abhorred abode.

Kill one and make three, she says. I say I agree with her. I tell them that I don't believe that the situation you will read about, if you dare, in Abu Saif’s essay below makes us safer. It's at best a strategically and morally sketchy endeavor. A sketchy calculus. And suddenly I realize how calamitously insufficient the word sketchy is here.

I don't say much more to my elder daughter and son. It won't help to argue and correct them. And they already know my politics. It’s one of the reasons they are unloading on me. Sometimes they are uncomfortable with how far outside the mainstream I am. Sometimes they are confused by my orientation and commitments. It's not easy to have a parent so far outside consensus. A member of a dissenting minority. Who sometimes even dissents from the dissenters. They want to belong. They want to feel at home in their social world, their society, their culture, their history, their people. I used to want that. Sometimes I still do. I have friends with activist children. Mine are not. I don't know why they aren't. Maybe it’s a parenting failure. I haven't always been as stable and present a parent as I intended and always wanted to be. I had serious struggles. I’m better now. Much better. And there’s no deficit of love between us. But I obviously failed to present them with a compelling model for engagement the way I would have liked.

So I let them unload their fear and anger. Posing a question here and there. Offering a brief comment that I strain to phrase in a way that isn't argumentative. I'm not good at that, so I stay mostly quiet. They know what I think. And they are speaking with that knowledge. Fighting with them won't help. They are in the middle of a crisis. Their trauma is unfolding. Though not like Abu Saif’s son’s trauma. Nowhere near that.

I noted that my son was now standing on his feet. I was distressed at the turn it had taken. For selfish reasons. These hours are indescribably precious to me. I want them to be pleasant. But this, too, is part of parenting. A part I don’t want to miss. There were stories and laughter. Sometimes, even my stories and their laughter. With no accompanying eyerolls. I have some talent for telling stories. But when they began to unload, I reminded myself: say less, listen more, as their mother would often urge me with extreme exasperation. If I had been able to do that, would they be coming with me to rallies and demonstrations? Or, the deeper question, would they be splitting their Shabbat meals between me and their mother now?

We moved onto the blessings after the meal. As always, we prefaced them by singing Psalm 126. ‘He goes forth weeping, the planter bearing his store of seeds; come, he will surely come back in joyous song bearing sheaves.’ Tell that to the loved ones of the victims on October 7th. What about all the kids whose lives were cut short like sheaves, before they could plant their own seeds? Still, I sang with them. Then, this morning, I read Atef Abu Saif’s essay. Tell that to him. I dare you.

+

https://www.nytimes.com/.../gaza-family-palestinian...

And listen to "My Youngest Son Came Home Today"

+

‘I Want to Be Awake When I Die’

Dec. 2, 2023

[Atef Abu Saif was visiting family members in Gaza with his 15-year-old son, Yasser, before Oct. 7 and has kept a diary of the war since it began. Here is his entry for Nov. 21, the day he decided to leave the Jabaliya neighborhood in the north of the territory for southern Gaza, en route to the Rafah crossing into Egypt.]

We cannot stay here any longer. We have decided.

The shells over the last two nights have been so close to the apartment we are staying in that I didn’t just see the light and hear the thunder of their explosions. I saw them pass right by my window. The Israelis are getting closer every minute. Most of the outer regions of the camp are under full occupation now. Overnight, troops advanced a couple of streets closer from the north. Our street came under continuous shelling from the tanks.

I never closed my eyes. “I want to be awake when I die,” I told my brother Mohammed, who has been with us for most of the war. “I want to see it happening.” Before going to sleep, my son Yasser said he felt more afraid than ever. For the last 45 days, he has shown great strength in the face of everything, but we all have our limits. “Let’s see,” I told him. “In the morning we’ll decide.”

This was two nights ago. So, yesterday morning, I went to see my dad to ask if he’d consider moving with us. It was a hard “no.”

“But most people have left already,” I said. He’s staying put, he insisted, come what may. Then, as I was leaving he shouted back to me: “Get that boy to safety.”

That helped convince me. As I lay on my mattress last night, I realized it was not fair that my 15-year-old son should pay for my decision to come to Gaza and stay so long in the north. He might have survived 45 days, but would he survive the next 45? The chances of escaping death are growing narrower and narrower. I do not have the right to decide for him. In her last call to me from our home in Ramallah, on the West Bank, my wife, Hanna, said simply: “I want my boy. You took him to Gaza. You bring him back.”

Talk of a truce fills the news, and this might be a good time to head south to Rafah and be near the border with Egypt in case it opens. I have a job in the ministry in Ramallah to get back to, after all.

The sight of the shells flying past my window the night before also made it clear that it was time to leave: sometimes it is better to be wise than correct, if that makes sense. The wise thing is to give everyone a chance to live, even if the correct thing is to not let the Israelis get away with a second Nakba — yet another expulsion from our land.

When this morning finally comes, the driver we have hired for the first leg of our journey arrives. My father-in-law Mostafa and his wife Widdad, who uses a wheelchair, are traveling with us. My in-laws want to stay with their granddaughter Wissam, 23, at the European Gaza Hospital in Khan Younis, in the south. Wissam is recovering from triple amputation surgery, after surviving a bombing in the first week that killed her parents and most of her siblings. Wissam’s surviving sister, also named Widdad, can take care of her grandmother as well as Wissam.

I carry my mother-in-law into the car. As the car sets off, we all try to prepare ourselves mentally for the long journey ahead. We get out at the Kuwait traffic junction and negotiate the hire of two donkey carts to carry us all to a gathering area along Salah al-Din Street, the main north-south route already called “New Nakba Road” by some.

[mekatrio]

Have you watched this?

https://youtu.be/AF8KGdV92ag?si=ccE042UR1LbURuZV

no i have not... but i did just for you anon. usually i avoid will stetson vids cuz his translyrics often piss me off LOL. im aware the translyrics from this vid are written by breadbox rather than him, but his remind blue vid w translyrics by breadbox also pissed me off so....

also u didnt ask for my opinions but i love to blabber so im putting down my opinions 😋 it also ended up long af woops so sticking it under a read more

first off, wow will stetson has rly improved his vocals. ive listened to a few of his recent covers and hes way better nowadays than in this one. the high notes are kinda kicking his ass here, but thats fair. LTM is not an easy song to sing.

that aside this concept is very interesting.. since the lyrics are by breadbox, its very illuminating to see how he interprets the manga and ayano's character in general. which is important to me bc i am aware that he's like the only? kagepro youtuber out there i think.. or at least the most popular. meaning his content and interpretations have shaped recent english-speaking public opinion of kgpr's narrative whether for better or worse. and i care abt that kind of shit

OK ENOUGH NITPICKING THE CREATORS LOL um my thoughts on this entire video: most of it is very standard bread and butter ayano interpretation (sacrificing herself for her everyone etc etc), but its pretty interesting to me that they chose to expand on route m konoha's and ayano's relationship, which was something that was very, very barely touched on in the manga. like konoha gets fucking possessed and ayano doesnt say a word abt that like LOL this manga is.... yeah. its interesting that they wrote their relationship as konoha worrying about ayano, but ayano feeling like he is unable to relate to her. i dont necessarily agree or disagree with that interpretation cuz its something i hvnt really thought about, but i find that to be an interesting interpretive choice.

also the second verse + chorus is pretty confusing bc the verse references konoha and ayano, but then the chorus jumps back to ayano from two years ago cuz the chorus is "Girl, 16" (ayano is 18 in the present day of route m). tho i guess the manga never really specifies how long konoha and ayano had known each other??? so maybe they met when ayano was 16??? god this vid is making me very confused abt the manga LOLLL

i will say tho that the last chorus was very confusing to me. bc it showed LTM ayano, i was under the impression that it was about a route 1 ayano? but i was confused, cuz the lyrics were "Girl, 18", and no route 1 ayano ever makes it to 18 (also when i say route 1 ayano i just mean any ayano whose part of the yuukei quartet + jumps off the roof etc etc). but after a few rewatchs, im pretty sure the last chorus is about yakitsu. i really wish they didnt use a pic of LTM ayano then, theres plenty of good pics of yakitsu from the last chapter of the manga they couldve used instead.

i get why they would believe that LTM ayano is yakitsu tho. thats cuz this is something that still isnt fully agreed on among fans, cuz even after 10 fucking years no one actually understands what LTM's mv is about LMAO. personally i think white dress ayano = yakitsu. and i think the ayano in LTM is just.... ayano from that route, not from route m. why she disappears tho.. um... hm......

but yeah interesting video, gave me much to think about... a bit too much to think about. cuz now im thinking about LTM and how that like.... makes no sense....... kinda..

[boysplanetrecaps]

Hello, I hope you don’t mind me sharing my opinions on the songs with you.

Switch. When I heard the song for the first time I thought “oh my gosh baby what a mess”, but it was so much better live! I loved the pixel art aesthetic and costumes were not bad. I liked Kamden, Jongwoo and Shuaibo the most, the others kind of gotten lost for me. Everyone did great (on average better than supercharger) so I really enjoyed it.

Supercharger. I hated the song from the moment I first heard it and my opinions have not changed. The chorus gets stuck in your head and it makes me hate it even more. The only part that I like is the ending “that’s right”. Haruto was a star. Takuto looked like a fifth grader hanging out with high schoolers. Everyone else did good/ok.

Over me. The song was made to win, so it’s really good. I enjoyed KuanJui’s and Jay’s performance the most, they get the song. Everyone else had “I don’t know what I’m singing about” energy.

Say my name. Nothing new but very pleasant to listen to. I finally saw Yujin and he’s amazing! Before he kind of blended into the background. Matthew did fantastic (but I also thing he was amazing in KTL and love killa, he can totally transform to fit this type of concept), Jiwoong was dead inside….

En garde. Loved the demo of the song, but the full song felt underwhelming, it was missing a bit of a stronger baseline. Gunwook killed it as he should, Hui was THE highlight, Gyuvin didn’t deliver in my opinion, he was much better in Love killa. I’m still waiting for the moment I get Gyuvin, cause now he’s just “long legs” for me.

Thank you for doing these recaps!(and for reading my word vomit) I highly suggest you watch BP side content. You’ll see friendships between trainees, Haruto knowing a bit of Chinese (in addition to Japanese, Korean and English), Keita making everyone’s catchphrases, Wumuti being amazing, Ricky being a shy boy and more!

Hi! It's been four months so I thought I'd reply to your message finally, ha ha. I enjoyed reading it at the time and mostly agreed anyway so in my head I'd already replied if that makes sense?

With my four months to think about it, I have softened a tiny bit toward Supercharger. It was at least memorable, which is both a blessing and a curse. I still don't like it, but I think I'd rather listen to it than En Garde. I still think it's one of those cheap NCT-esque knock offs that is hard to really pull off. It kind of reminds me of "Attitude" by ATBO in that it feels calculated rather than a song that someone wrote because they wanted to write a song. But that particular criticism can probably be applied to all five songs.

And my liking for Switch has only increased. I think it's a really great song, actually -- the only one of the five (other than maybe Over Me) that I think I just straight up like. Is it because Phanbin and TaeRae were both in it? Maybe? It's so hard to un-bias your bias from your bias, you know? But I don't generally find myself hitting skip when it comes up on my shuffle.

I'll have to see how Gyuvin and co are all doing in ZB1. I haven't caught up with them yet -- life has been busy and the only newish kpop song I've heard since like April is Cream Soda (of course).

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 12th December

There are some songs that just wouldn't work today. Often when I say that I mean that social attitudes have changed, somehow, that a song once deemed fine has become somehow inappropriate. In this case, it's really not that deep - but seriously, what would the modern day version of this even be?

Return to Sender - Elvis Presley (peaked at Number 1)

There are two or three modes that Elvis seems to fall into, by default. One's this romantic, slightly grandiloquent balladeer. Think Can't Help Falling in Love, or, less flatteringly, It's Now or Never. then there's Elvis the blues fan. Think Heartbreak Hotel, or, in a deeper cut, I Feel So Bad. Both of these Elvises are properly iconic. But for my money, the Elvis who I would actually like hanging round with most is this one, the Elvis who's just a goofy cheeseball. Musically, I think it's his most hit-and-miss mode. But there's something very fun about it, when it works - and for what it's worth, I really think it does work here. Elvis has had a few hits, recently, where I've accused him, more or less, of phoning it in. But I've had a sneaky soft spot for this one for a while now - it's not wildly adventurous, but it's solid, fun and has a good, catchy hook.

The premise is simple but, like I suggested in the intro, somewhat dated. Basically, Elvis has had a fight with his girl, and written a letter to make things better, but when he sends it, he keeps getting the same result: Return to sender, / Address unknown, / No such person, no such zone. She's changed her address, it's implied, or perhaps herself has written that one and sent it back. Whatever's happened, Elvis has clearly fallen afoul of his lady. And yet, I kind of love Elvis' resolution at the end, as he decides, finally, that this time I'm gonna take it myself and put it right in her hand / And if it comes back the very next day, then I'll understand. Which honestly sounds quite reasonable. He's tenacious, but he's not going to pester her, you know? More songwriters could take notes from this!

It was apparently inspired by a real story, too - not a spiteful lover, but rather a completely different demo that was sent off, but with a wrong address. It came back to the songwriters with a stamp on it bearing the words that became this song's chorus - all it took was somebody to pick up on the poetic potential. And honestly, I do think there's a poetry just to the way the words come together. "Return to sender! No such person! No such zone!" There's a snappiness to it that this song picks up well, ramping straight into the chorus with a enthusiastic she wrote upon it from the backing singers that gives those exclamation marks all the oomph and energy that they need. It's good, memorable stuff.

Amusingly, as a piece of trivia, the song was apparently almost instantly out of date - it mentions postal zones, but these administrative entities were replaced not nine months later with the ZIP code system the US now has. This is wild to me, because I just assumed ZIP codes were older. Turns out the UK's alphanumeric postcodes are a bit older, having been introduced in larger cities as far back at the 1860s, but they were only consistently and universally rolled out in 1959 - and not all addresses were notified of what their postcode actually was until 1971!

The more I've thought about it, the more I'm starting to think that the modern equivalent would be somebody leaving you on read - or turning read receipts on specifically so you'd see they're leaving you on read. But still, there's something kind of unique about the letter. You have to take more time to write a letter, you know, and pay postage, and wait for it all to arrive. So I stand by what I said before, I do think this is a song that's effective because of the era it was written in. And, like I said, it's also one of Elvis' more endearingly goofy songs - he's not doing anything ground-breaking with it, but it's still sounds solidly good and catchy, even today. Good job, all!

Favourite song of the unfortunately undeliverable bunch: Return to Sender