#but there is the mystery of Andy leaving the band

[misskattylashes]

Miles, Johanna, Alexa, Arielle, Taylor and Louise.....for me Andy is the missing piece here who isn't talked about enough....

X

"What do you miss most about the early days of the band?"

...

Alex to Andy in a softest voice possible:

"I miss your old haircut"

...

[fobarchiveteam]

23 years ago today is when Fall Out Boy got their name. We all know the story from The Oral History of TTTYG that FOB’s second show where they famously got their name was at a “Southern Illinois university” while opening for The Killing Tree. For the longest time, it was unknown where this mysterious college was. We finally found our answer: Western Illinois University. Not only did we find the college where they played, but the date of the show- November 30th, 2001. We know this because of a guestbook submission from Patrick’s old band website, Patterson.

After finding this, we went through multiple websites. We eventually landed on an old record label that Arma Angelus was on before Eulogy Records, Happy Couples Never Last Records. On the page about Arma, there are shows listed. One of those shows said they were playing the Western with a few other bands.

Pete even mentions on Arma’s LiveJournal on 11/29/01 that “fallout boy” is playing at the Western the next day. We then thought about looking up the other bands that were on the line-up. After searching through a few sites, we found the website for the band Backup. Backup had past shows listed on their site that were thankfully saved by the Wayback Machine. We found the same show listed on their site (with a slight lineup change) and confirmed that the Western is Western Illinois University.

After looking through the school’s archives including student newspapers, we found an issue from November 2001. We found out there was a column called “The Edge”. This column was all about local music and was published every Friday. It had listings for shows that were up and coming. AND THAT’S HOW WE FOUND THIS:

This was super exciting to see, but it left us with more questions than answers…

FOB is listed as Falloutboy and not the alternate name they had before, which was Short Story; Unhappy Ending, even though Patrick claims they would be playing the show under that name. In the same paper, at the bottom of page 7, they describe the bands that would be playing that upcoming night, and they are referred to Short Story; Unhappy Ending.

In the exact same newspaper, the band is referred to with two different names, and the newspaper never acknowledges this. We also found a review of the show from December 7th, 2001. 

This makes it even more confusing! What could “previous name” possibly mean? We know that the first show at DePaul was played under Forget Me Not according to Mani Mostofi in Where Are Your Boys Tonight? by Chris Payne.

Here’s some facts that we know:

Fall Out Boy was a name proposed by Ben Rose

It was one of many names being considered in those first few shows

Someone in the crowd shouted “Fuck that, no, you’re Fall Out Boy” in response to Pete saying a “very long band name” according to Patrick, which we can reasonably assume is Short Story. 

Tim McIlrath, who was the frontman for The Killing Tree, thanked FOB as Fall Out Boy after they played, which solidified that as their name

Also to note, Andy Hurley was at this show. He played with Project Rocket. Here is a photo of him that was shown in that same review.

We leave this with more questions (but also with answers). We figured out what the Western was and proof of the show happening. BUT the names are still a mystery. Was the listing published after the show? Why were they referred to Short Story; Unhappy Ending on one page then Falloutboy on the next one? Did the person in the crowd shout that because he saw the paper the morning of? Or was it someone who worked on the paper who shouted it?

Final thing to note: recalling the Patterson guestbook post from Patrick, we also theorize that Dressed to Thrill is another one of the rotating names. At first, we assumed that Dressed To Thrill was another pre-established band that Patrick was incorrectly assumed to be joining, but the phrasing leaves it open to either possibility. Plus, we couldn’t actually find anything about a band from the time called Dressed to Thrill.

[mediamixs]

Dawn of the Dead (2004) Review: a classic horror movie to watch again

Adapted by James Gunn (Scooby Doo) from the original 1978 George A. Romero screenplay, Dawn of the Dead opens by allowing us to get briefly acquainted with the movies central protagonist, a pretty young nurse named Ana (Sarah Polley). But her safe suburban lifestyle is short lived, and a mysterious epidemic ensures that Ana is fleeing from ravenous zombies before the movie even hits the ten minute mark. She soon meets Kenneth (Ving Rhames), a tough-as-nails cop, and moments later they come across Michael (Jake Weber), a soft-spoken but natural leader, Andre (Mekhi Phifer), a man with a questionable past, and Luda (Inna Korobkina), Andres pregnant girlfriend.

They take refuge in a sprawling shopping mall, but quickly run afoul of the less-than-hospitable security guards C.J. (Michael Kelly), Bart (Michael Barry), and Terry (Kevin Zegers). More characters are added later, notably Steve (Ty Burrell), a smart-ass yuppie, and Andy (Bruce Bohne), the owner of a nearby gun shop. As the horrible infection spreads across the globe, and the situation becomes increasingly desperate, the characters come to realize that no help is coming from the outside. If they are to survive, they must take matters into their own hands. Luckily for us, that involves chainsaws, armor-reinforced parking shuttles, and propane tanks rigged into makeshift bombs.

The action comes fast and furious throughout, and director Zack Snyder (helming his first feature film) does a nice job of pacing and getting us right into the thick of things. He does tend to overuse the slow-motion effect whenever theres an explosion or cartridge ejected from a gun, but this can be forgiven because (a) its his freshman effort, and (b) it doesnt really take away from this particular story. Were also treated to some solid camera work, editing which maintains a fast pace but doesnt confuse the viewer, and excellent special effects with plenty of brains and blood to go around.

The soundtrack also plays a pivotal part in the film, adding an extra dimension to several key scenes. From Johnny Cashs When the Man Comes Around during the opening credits sequence (which, by the way, is better than many full-length zombie movies), to People Who Died by The Jim Carroll Band and a lounge version of Down With the Sickness by Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine, its beyond me why the studio chose not to release this soundtrack.

The acting is very strong for a film of this genre, and Jake Weber and Sarah Polley are particularly impressive in the roles of Michael and Ana. They both manage to bring a quiet sincerity to their roles, something not easily accomplished in a movie dominated by flesh-hungry ghouls and belching shotguns. The cast is much larger than the original, but each character is given a few moments to shine and let the audience identify with them. True, nobody is fleshed out to the extent of, say, George C. Scotts Patton or Denzels Malcolm X, but what do you expect from a horror movie? This isnt Biography, folks.

Fans of the original Dawn will be happy to see cameos by Ken Foree, Scott Reiniger, and Sex Machine Tom Savini. There are several other nods to the original movie scattered throughout, and one gets the sense that the filmmakers had a great affection for their predecessor. But make no mistake, this movie stands on its own with a different cast of characters, different climax, and completely different ending. Comparisons between the two are inevitable, but ultimately unfair to both pictures. Its like comparing the original Atari to the Xbox. Both are a blast, but one is simply hopelessly outdated when held up to modern standards.

It should also be noted that the movie continues through the end credits, so dont run off as soon as the lights start to come up. If you do, youll probably leave the theater with a much different idea of what happened than those who stayed behind.

Dawn of the Dead updates a classic and improves upon it along the way. The action is faster, the zombies are faster, and the overall product just looks better. Its a zombie movie for the modern generation and well worth the price of admission.

[pen-of-roses]

Fuck it, in the dying final hour of a pretty good day, why don’t i offer some OC lore to celebrate:

Even after they leave, Oliver sends a gift to Evander every year on his birthday (from different untraceable locations of course)

When they were younger, they would gift him fine leather journals and writings after dragging him off to places unknown for a fun day of exploring

For theirs, Evander in turn would make a new little statue for their collection and try to find new places they’d never seen to impress them (or other mischief no one expected of him)

Oliver doesn’t celebrate their own now really, but Eldryn let it slip to the local children once, who since all band together to make something for them and throw a little party for their favorite local cryptid musician and storyteller

Conor….doesn’t know the actual date of his, instead marking it with the passing of the year if he even notices that, to celebrate another year of….well

Reine and Aleksis have quiet nights in together on theirs , drinking, sharing memories, etc

Din….ignores hers for reasons

Silver dimly recalls theirs as being around the end of fall and beginning of winter

Safirel’s would always be a major event full of fanfare and praise and celebration, and while he enjoyed it, he would still find time to slip away to spend a few peaceful moments with Rowyn

Andy doesn’t celebrate hers but does celebrate her cat’s and Gems

Gem is still trying to pry the date out of her

Gem has a party with friends and is probably the most normal about his birthday

The exception being the odd present that mysteriously shows up with no name

(They know who it’s from)

While Mal can’t always be there for Ilm’s, she still sends a thoughtful present every year

Mal’s own is spent in quiet contemplation of her arm and then reorganizing her shop to distract

Ilm…spends hers committing theft probably, as a gift to herself

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Article about Marshmallow Coast and interview with Andy Gonzales in Flagpole, 14 April 2004  

[source]

transcript:

The Reluctance of being earnest Marshmallow Coast's Andy Gonzales moves towards a sharper picture of himself Andy Gonzales is looking to define himself, and he's been doing it for a while. To be more specific, he's looking to have his Marshmallow Coast identity and music exist outside the realm of his more acclaimed association. In fact, when I call to ask him about the recording of his recent album Antistar, he brings up Of Montreal right off the bat and without any prompting. 

"We recorded [Antistar] with Jason NeSmith at Bel Air Studios," says Gonzales, "and it basically... well. I felt like I needed to record an album completely disassociated from Of Montreal. All the [Of Montreal] reviews would mention Kevin [Barnes, Of Montreal's primary songwriter and frontman] and not mention me.

That was pretty much my only thing to consider in the recording of this album, so I didn't want to include any of those people. That just got under my skin after a while—not that it created hard feelings, of course, but it was time to really be on my own."

Don't let Gonzales come across as bitter— he's not. But he does carry the air of someone frustrated with being overshadowed. Antistar, however, should aid in further separating Marshmallow Coast from Of Montreal's quirky pop preciousness. The album is Gonzales' fourth as Marshmallow Coast, a name he's used since his early teenage years in Denver. It's also his most distinct album to date. Marshmallow Coast's 1999 debut album Seniors and Juniors came across like an off-key and lo- fi love letter to Music Tapes' Julian Koster (also of Neutral Milk Hotel), and 2000's Marshmailow Coasting carried a strong Of Montreal sound— not surprising, since the majority of that band showed up to back Gonzales.

But with 2002's Ride the Lightning, which marked the jump from Kindercore Records to Misra Records, Gonzales started to gain his own foothold. Of the label switch, Gonzales says: "Kindercore was totally changing, and I kinda had a weird inkling that I needed to leave, but it wasn't anything other than I needed to be on a different label than Of Montreal, because that was the height of the comparison."

Antistar finds Gonzales exploring his troubadour side, turning away the more psychedelic whimsy experiments of earlier albums, instead relying on tunes more in line with the steady output of standards coming from Burt Bacharach and Elvis Costello, albeit with a Sean Lennon voice and a Jonathan Richman sense of humor. Love songs—romantic love songs populate Antistar. Says Gonzales: "Everybody feels love, and I just... more than being lovey-dovey, I try to make my songs about weirdoes who find love mysteriously. I think it's more classy to write about love, and I definitely don't have anything political to say." The album was recorded primarily in the solo setting, and Marshmallow Coast's live performance reflects that; it's Gonzales and wife Sara Kirkpatrick, who married recently in Dekalb County, accompanied by a CD for all the backing tracks and drums.

"My songwriting process has kind of evolved," says Gonzales. "It used to be that I'd just wait for inspiration, but eventually I'd just work on little bits and pieces and see how they fit together over time. Now I'm at the point where I can get my brain into writing mode when I'm in the studio recording—I might go in with just six songs, and that's not enough for a full album, so I'll write some out of sheer necessity. Some of those songs have become some of my favorites, because I'm not super-prolific like some other people are. If I tell myself I've got something to accomplish and I'm not wasting somebody's time, I can get things done. But it can be difficult."

Again, Gonzales slips comfortably into self-doubt an apologetic tone for even existing in the first place. He seems uncomfortable with his own place in the creation of music. To wit:

Andy Gonzales: By this point I just [write songs] and we don't really feel like we'll change the world or anything. Flagpole: No? AG: Not really. Sometimes I don't know why I do it. I think about all the other hundreds of bands who recorded their CDs and spent all that money in the studio and... I dunno. I guess there is a reason. FP: What is that reason? AG: Because I like doing music, and there are some people who seem to like it I mean, I totally love making music, but I've given up the romantic notion I held as a teenager that we're gonna be big or something. But there's somebody willing to put the record out, so I'll definitely have the songs ready, I guess... I mean, I would love for us to get recognition as a unique or different band, but I am happy with the recognition we've got so far.

But again, it seems to be the constant scrutiny and comparison to his musical elders that's led to Gonzales' reticence and his reluctance to take a strong stand on his own music. "The weird thing is," he says, "I've had the luxury to turn into something while people were able to watch and scrutinize. Most people might not put out their first album until they're my age now, until they've really developed as an artist and are ready to be out there. I've kind of been developing in the public eye."

Is that ever an uncomfortable situation? "I think it was in the beginning," says Gonzales, "because I'm not a very good singer, but now I think... I don't know how much consideration I give it anymore. I just want to make something really, um, pretty? Y'know, just music that's nice. I feel that if I evolve in any other way I'll try to get somebody else to sing because that's where I run into the most criticism." 

But does Gonzales like his own voice? "Yeah. Sometimes? I don't know." It seems that Gonzales' strength, then, is to let the songs speak for themselves as well as for him. Despite his self-questioning, Antistar takes a strong stand towards romance and pushes Gonzales further towards definition.

Chris Hassiotis

[myz-wykkyd]

I hope you don't mind if i send a few ask game questions for Rosalie! I can't express how much i love her like - the outfit? the backstory? she is everything

3. Which city state would they most like to visit, and why? 4. Who are they closest with in Sandrock? What’s their relationship with that person? 8. Are they interested in the old world? 11. What’s their opinion on Logan? Did they know him before he left Sandrock? 14. What’s their favourite game at the Golden Goose? 18. What’s their favourite holiday?

I don't mind at all! thank you so much for sending in the asks- your interest in Rosalie means a lot to me! <333

3. Which city state would they most like to visit, and why?

Due to her upbringing, Rosalie has visited most of the Free Cities alongside her stepfather- who was happy to take her with him on business trips. She enjoyed traveling and of the places she’s been, Walnut Groove and Tallsky were her favorites. But at the end of the day, the only place she ever really wanted to go was back to Sandrock. 

4. Who are they closest with in Sandrock? What’s their relationship with that person?

During her childhood in Sandrock, Owen was something of an older brother figure to Rosalie. He kept an eye on her while their parents worked in the Blue Moon Saloon and played with her on occasion!  Unfortunately, she lost touch with him after her family moved to Atara. But the time they spent apart, growing as people, allowed them to become genuinely close friends upon her return. After finishing her own work, she loves nothing more than going to the saloon to listen to his stories, play music for him with Cooper and Hugo, and dance with him on occasion. There’s definitely ALOTA romantic tension between them- but Rosalie hasn’t acted on them yet because she also has complicated feelings for a certain bandit that I’ll get to in a second.

She’s bandmates with Cooper and Hugo (She plays the fiddle in ze band). Friends with Grace, Qi, Heidi, and Trudy. There’s a special place in her heart for Mort and Zeke. She also adopts Andy eventually.  

8. Are they interested in the old world?

Oh yes, for sure. As a builder, she views the old world and its mysteries as a potential treasure trove of discovery that could help the world. She collects old world artifacts, books, ect. 

11. What’s their opinion on Logan? Did they know him before he left Sandrock?

Once upon a time, Logan was Rosalie’s best friend. In the early years of their lives, they did nearly everything together- from playing, to mischief making, to following Howlett on adventures. And even back then she had quite the crush on him. But ofc, that all changed when her mother remarried and her family moved to Atara. Leaving him broke her heart, but she never forgot about him and part of her always hoped she’d see him again someday. (Infact, Logan is part of the reason she wanted to return to Sandrock so badly). 

He was off being a bandit by the time she finally managed to return. But she could never bring herself to believe the things people said about him were true. She remained a skeptic until certain events unfold-

14. What’s their favorite game at the Golden Goose?

Whack-a-mole 100% because of the endless joy she gets from smashing inanimate objects with a big hammer.

18. What’s their favorite holiday?

HAHAHA she wouldn’t ever be able to choose a favorite. She loves the Dance Off, the Tour de Rock,  Showdown at High Noon and Running of the Yakmel. Would look forward to them every year<3

[correctrvbquotes]

Cut to the Reds entering a structure via a bridge, in their vast underground lair, and coming across a viewscreen switching between shots of the Canyon

Sarge: Huh, what's all this business?

Simmons: It looks like a bunch of computer equipment, sir.

Sarge: Excellent analysis, Simmons.

Donut: And it's attached to some kinda T.V. thing.

Sarge: So it is. Astute deduction, Donut.

Grif: It shows all different parts of the canyon. Look, there's our base!

Sarge: Ah yes, another incredible observation from the stating-the-obvious department. Thanks for nothing, numbnuts.

Grif: Huhhhhhh.

Sarge: Simmons, Donut- you two stay here. Grif's gonna continue to help look for Andy.

Grif: Fine. (wandering off) Huhh, I hate my job.

Donut: Look, there's my room! And the locker room! And there's the showers! Mahan, so many good memories.

Simmons: I hope this thing isn't connected to the internet.

Sarge: Euh, the Blues must've set this up. Crafty devils. Spying on us all along. ...What's all that?

Simmons: That looks like Blue Base.

Sarge: Why would the Blues spy on themselves?

Simmons: Maybe the Blues didn't set this up. Someone else might've.

Sarge: Or maybe the Blues are so incredibly arrogant, they just wanna see themselves on T.V. Boy I bet they have those stupid liberal equal time laws. Commie Blue bastards.

Simmons: What if all this technology is just left over from an ancient civilization that was way more advanced than us?

Donut: Wait a minute, how could an ancient civilization be more advanced? If they were so advanced, where did they go?

Simmons: They could have mysteriously disappeared, only leaving behind a legacy of enigmatic technology.

Donut: ... ... That's gay.

Simmons: Oh, let's finish this fight later.

Sarge: Look, what's that?

Simmons: Hhh! That looks like Sister's armor.

Donut: Oh no, what happened to her?

Sarge: Clearly, she's been disintegrated.

Simmons: Why would they do that? Oh, we can't tell Grif. He's gonna be devastated.

Grif: Tell me what?

Sarge: Tell you that your sister's been vaporized by the Blues.

Grif: What!?

Simmons: Sarge!?

Sarge: Heh heh, it's just like rippin' off a band-aid. Quick and incredibly painful.

Simmons: We just talked about this, I thought we agreed not to tell him.

Grif: What?

Donut: You really need to start thinking about other people's feelings, Sarge.

Sarge: Son, the only thing I need to do is stay red and die.

Grif: What?

Simmons: I'm really sorry Grif. She's dead.

Grif: How could this have happened? Oh man, that was my little sister. I mean, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I still loved her.

Simmons: This has to be hard Grif. I don't know what to say.

Grif: I-I just, I had no idea the last time I saw her was gonna be the last time ever. I'd give anything to see her again and just to talk to her one last time, and I'm never gonna get that chance. It's the most empty feeling in the whole world.

Donut: Oh hey, look! She's not dead, she's just naked!

Grif: What! That little slut, I'm gonna kill her!

Simmons: Take a screenshot, take a screenshot!

[c-40]

A-T-3 278 Elite Records

Round up of singles from Andy Sojka's Elite and Challenge labels. All tracks were written and produced by Andy Sojka & Richard de Jongh with the exception of Strike One

Beverley Skeete - If The Feeling Is Right

Beverley Skeete had sang on the US version of Xtra Special by Atmosphere but I believe If The Feeling Is Right is her debut solo single for the label. It was reissued by Mr. Bongo last year with the incredible 1985 track Warm on the a-side https://mrbongo.bandcamp.com/album/warm-if-the-feeling-is-right

Strike One - Can't Touch Me Anymore

Written by studio stalwart Toby Baker and the mysterious S. Henry, with vocals by Sabiha Kara. Can't Touch Me Anymore was also released in the Netherlands in 1983 and rereleased remixed in 1985. Then a few years ago it was reissued in the Netherlands again with a second 12 of remixes https://bordelloaparigi.com/shop/vinyl/strike-one-cant-touch-me-anymore-12/. Boogie Back reissued it in the UK this year with a previously unreleased track Chicago Sunrise https://www.musicglue.com/boogiebackrecordsuk/

Strike One - Chicago Sunrise

There's also the dub/instrumental on the original Elite release, Can't Mix Me Anymore

Atmosphere - What We Do

Elite was originally created to press and distribute Atmosphere's music. Bassist Lester Batchelor left the band after their previous single Xtra Special and this triggered a complete change of line-up. The bassline and percussion is lifted from Lonnie Liston Smith's 1975 jazz-funk favourite Expansions, and the drums are reminiscent of Beat The Street by Sharon Redd which Sojka and de Jongh seemed to have been obsessed with at the time. Mancuso used to play it at the Loft

Contact-U was Andy Sojka & Richard de Jongh's electro off-shoot. Freestyle packaged all three Contact-U 12s with an unreleased track Inside You last year. Two of the three 12s were released in 1983

Ecuador

Dancing In Inner Space - a reference to Atmosphere's biggest hit Dancing In Outer Space. I've always found it a bit disappointing so I think I might leave it out. If you don't know it and you're curious it's piss easy to track down

[fataltotheflesh-com]

reasons to stay alive

-fall out boy (in general and new album)

-fyo

-andy

-switch

-mikey

-baby

-the academy is...

-being unabashedly inappropriate

-writing fic

-reading fic

-sending anon love

-finding something to believe in

-making playlists

-books you haven't read yet

-sending emails

-hearing your favourite songs on the radio

-roleplaying as a wizard online

-collecting pictures of bands

-seeing cool bugs

-making lists

-watching silly interviews and videos of bands

-looping songs on repeat

-giving gifts

-curling up by the vent and getting warm and cozy

-collecting cds

-hugs

-playing old web games

-jacking off

-when you can pick out constellations at night

-jumping in puddles

-fridge manuals

-researching super random obscure shit

-stomping on crunchy leaves

-sorting things

-sewing plushies for yourself

-strangers holding the door open

-freshly baked goods

-holding hands

-mystery at decaydance high

-happy trails

-going to the aquarium

-you're loved you're loved you're loved

-rainstorms

-comments on fics

-googly eyes

-cold water

-when the sky is pretty colours

-besan

-occupational health and safety

-infodumping

-getting infodumped to

-talking to your dad (trick)

-daily maneskin in my asks

-say anything

-the library

-happy tree friends

-doodling on whiteboards

-tumblr

-carrying pens and pencils in your pocket

-stickers

-telling people about cancon regulations

-ao3

-showing people release the bats + goodnight moon

-playing music

-betaing people's writing

-showing people proof of rpf stuff

-gritty

-making glittery gifs for every occasion

-milk

-reading shakespeare plays

-thrift stores

-watching dragula

-carabiners

-sunsets

-sunrises

-writing porn that makes people angry

-gel pens

-last fm

-shaved ice

-making fun kandi

-wings of fire

-someone caring about your wellbeing

-hairy legs

-cobra starship

-talking to people you love (about things you love)

-snuggles

-gym class heroes

-seeing queer people in public

-dressing emo as fuck

-html and css

-reading to kids

-hugging your plushies and telling them you love them

-my laptop

-making cool aus

-my chemical romance

-werewolf sex mechanics

-notifications from a rss feed for a new work for a ship you like

-taking super myspacey selfies

-reading health and safety guidelines

-getting vaccinated

-layering belts

-receiving art of my ocs

-pineapple juice

-sleeping in

-discord bots

-wajas

-"i saw this and thought of you"

-laying in the sunshine

-finding money on the ground

-coming up with a clever joke/pun that makes people groan

-singing off key with your friends

-have a dance party alone

-getting so excited you can't speak

-comfy sweaters

-songs you want to let wash over you and drown in

-fat snowflakes

-chipped black nail polish

-seeing a picture of a band guy that makes you squeal

-jingly bells

-cute underwear

-painting

-you're worth the effort

-listening to music so loud you can feel it in your chest

-reaallyy good cereal

-say anything

-cute nicknames

-someone using a pronoun for you that makes you feel euphoric

-gabe saporta being HAWT

-11:11 wishes coming true

-the used

-juicy pears

-engaging in your special interest(s)

-the smashing pumpkins

-being a HUGE geek

-literally every single decaydance band

-grace getting fake mad at you when you trick her into doing your work

-dramatic irony

-correct semicolon use

-patrick stump's tweets

-gerard way's tweets

-stim toys

-wacky food combinations

-a crossover of two fandoms you really like

-a heritage post on your dash

-cute clothes that fit perfectly

-hamlet

-medieval castle defenses

-deep sea hatchetfish

-butches

-backpacks and stuff,,, to carry a bunch of things around

-finding free sheet music

-when you open the starburst and they're both your favourite flavour

-your silly ocs!

follows from austinwehaveaproblem

if we're close please dni this is embarrassing as fuck 😭

[deep-sea-scholar]

Okay I need to rant about Glass Onion for several paragraphs

WARNING: SPOILERS!

Glass onion is phenomenal, and I personally enjoyed its themes more than the first Knives Out movie.

Now don’t get me wrong, Knives Out is arguably the better film, but its strengths lie in the complexity and brilliant execution of its core mystery.  It’s a fantastic self-contained story about a shitty rich family and the people they directly affect.  The members of the family range across the political spectrum and all express different ideologies, but the moment a migrant working-class woman has a legitimized shot at their inheritance they band together to prevent her from improving her life.  It's interesting commentary on how wealthy people can talk a big game about helping others and being good people, but ultimately fall morally short when such actions threaten what they feel they “rightfully deserve.” But that's arguably the limitation of the film as its focus is entirely on the interpersonal conflict between the Thrombey family and Marta.

Glass onion isn’t limited by that.

The entire thematic core of Glass Onion concerns the damage that the rich and powerful can do to the world if they aren’t supervised, criticized, or limited. 

Aside from our lovely detective Benoit Blanc, the murdered Andi Brand, and her twin sister Helen, all of the characters are shitty people that are damaging the world in a uniquely horrible way as a direct consequence of the unchecked power and wealth they wield.

To start we have Governor Claire Dubella.  Her success in her political career has relied almost entirely on monetary support and influence from the films big bad and Elon Musk/Jeff Bezos analogue Miles Bron. Her platform has good objectives, and she’s passionate about hard topics like climate change, but her ability to act is entirely limited by the influence Miles has on her.  If Miles wants her to do something, she feels like she has no choice but to, which results in her greenlighting an experimental powerplant that Miles wants built to advocate for his new fuel source.  It’s untested technology, it’s volatile and dangerous as fuck, and Claire feels like she has no choice but to go along with it because if she doesn’t Miles will withdraw support from her career, or worse, support her opponents.  She likens it to selling her soul, and it really is.  She willingly undermined the health of her constituents for the sake of saving her career, and the shitty part is that Miles only controls her because she lets him.  She could deny the power plant, or leave Miles, at any time, but she doesn’t because she perceives the personal risk as to great.  She is a politician that won’t stand up for the people she represents, and no one calls her out on it.

Next, we have Duke Cody, the Alpha male men’s rights streamer who is just like, the absolute worst person in this film.  His views and opinions are incredibly toxic, his actions and beliefs directly hurt the people he influences through the hurtful products he promotes, and thanks to Mile's wealth and influence both he and his terrible, terrible, terrible opinions have official backing and some form of legitimacy.  He’s almost the direct inverse of Claire, being someone who really shouldn’t have support, but is getting it anyway because he’s Mile’s friend.  And because Miles doesn’t care and is giving Duke support and helping him dodge legal trouble, he enables Dukes terrible opinions and lets them influence and hurt people.  

Then we have Birdie, my personal favorite of the disruptors.  She is a fashion designer, media star, and breathtakingly, beautifully, stupid. She’s not actively malicious like some of the other characters, but she is just so fundamentally incapable of thinking things through. When paired with her wealth and influence, this results in horrifying real-world consequences.  She has her iconic fashion line of sweatpants made at the most infamous sweatshop in Bangladesh not because she doesn’t care, but because she thought a sweatshop is just a shop where you make sweatpants.  She’s just very stupid, but at the very least has the decency to be aware of it.  She even decides to own up to her Bangladesh mistake of her own volition, independent of the plot.  The problem is that no one corrected for her, or guided her, or worked to influence her decisions.  Miles just cared about what her brands could do for him and was perfectly willing to throw her under the bus to preserve his image.

Last of the four Disruptors is Lionel Toussaint.  Not much to say about him actually, he’s fairly straightforward.  He works directly under Miles as a scientist and is a parallel for the people that want to have confidence in tech ‘pioneers’ like Elon Musk.  After all they’ve been successful, and things have worked out in the past, surely, we can give them leeway with new technology development.  But there’s a reason why technology is prototyped and tested, and that’s because things always go wrong, and you need to take time and care to figure out how to ensure new technology is safe.

Which leads us to this asshole.

Miles goddamn Mona Lisa Burning Bron.

The absolute, motherfucking, shithead moron directly responsible for everything bad that happens in this film.

I lied about Duke Cody because this absolute buffoon is the actually the worst person in this film.

He manipulates politicians into endangering their constituents for his own gain, he enables the absolute worst and most toxic people by giving them legitimate platforms, he promotes influencers without caring for what their unchecked actions result in, and he deludes the people that work for him and want to believe in him with self-assured delusion.  This man is arrogant, an indiscribable moron (worse than Birdie because at least she acknowledges her failings), dangerously delusional, obsessed with control, and most damning of all, unchecked.

Miles Bron is a direct look at how too much unchecked power, wealth, and influence results in unmitigated disasters.  He doesn’t care about helping people, because he doesn’t take the time to make sure untested technology is safe for the public, handwaving legitimate concerns with denial and false assurance.  He doesn’t care about his friends, because he murders two of them the instant, they become a threat to his control.  He’s not smart, because all of his genius is the result of other people, he’s just skilled at advertising it as his own to get the credit.  All he cares about is doing what he wants and being in control, because his opinion and self-worth and legacy is more precious to him than any other thing in the world.  The man is a lie so absolute, so convoluted, and so stupidly straightforward that the slightest piece of truth will bring the facade of his existence crumbling down.  And it’s hard to acknowledge something like that in the real world because someone that successful being that malicious and dumb sounds incredibly stupid.  It’s an easy lie to buy because it’s more believable than how stupid the truth is.

Anyway, ultimately my conclusion is that we see a strikingly accurate portrayal of Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk in this film, and it was very cathartic seeing their hopes, ambitions, and house burn down around them.  Because billionaires like them are shithead morons that lie to and manipulate everyone, and their arrogant and harmful self-delusions compound through the people they manage to influence.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[fobarchiveteam]

The Second FOB show

We made a MAJOR break in the case for the second FOB show. We all know the story from the oral history of TTTYG that their second show was at a southern Illinois university and opened for The Killing Tree. For the longest time, it was unknown where this mysterious college was. BUT we finally found our answer, Western Illinois University. Not only the college they played it, BUT we found the date of the show, November 30th, 2001. We know this because of a guestbook signing from Patrick’s old band website, Patterson. 

After finding this, We went through multiple websites. We then landed on an old record label that Arma Angelus was on before being on Eulogy Records, Happy Couples Never Last Records. On the page about arma, there are shows listed on the page and one of those shows said they were playing the Western. 

We then thought about looking up the other bands that were on the line-up as well. After searching through a few sites, we found the website for the band Backup. And Backup has past shows listed on their site that were thankfully saved on wayback. And we found the same show listed on their site and confirmed that the Western is Western Illinois University. 

We then wondered, okay let’s see if there is anything listed in the student newspaper on the university archive website. Usually with university archives, they usually have student newspapers archive from over the years. Thankfully, we found the newspaper from November 2001. We found out there was a column of the newspaper called “The Edge”. This Column had a listing for shows that were up and coming. AND THAT'S HOW WE FOUND THIS: 

This was super exciting to see this show listed, BUT what made us very, VERY confused is that they are listed as falloutboy and not the alternate name they had before falloutboy, which was Short Story; Unhappy Ending. In the same paper, on page 7, at the bottom they are describing the bands that will be playing tonight, and they are referred to Short Story; Unhappy Ending. 

Which doesn’t help with the listing that is show in page 2 where all the shows are listed, and it's falloutboy and not Short Story; Unhappy Ending. We also found a review from December 7th, 2001

Also to note, Andy was at this show he played with project rocket. Here is a photo that was shown in that same review.

We leave this with more questions (but also with answers), We figured out what the western was, we found proof of the show happening. BUT the names are making us confused. Was the listing published after the show? Why were they referred to Short Story; Unhappy Ending on one page, then Falloutboy on the next one?

[gotnofucks]

A Man’s World

Pairing: soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Dub-con (at the beginning), smut, language, implied age gap, poor knowledge of law and legal system, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my late entry to Berry’s Sugary 4k Challenge (everyone go and send some love to @donutloverxo​ for being so awesome. I am also dedicating this fic to Lexi ( @bluemusickid​ ) who’s had a difficult few weeks recently. I hope you feel better my love.

Sweat was building under your top hat, the urge to itch making you frustrated with the delay. The officer before you was young, probably your age and fumbled with the papers you had handed to him. You tried to relax, almost as nervous as the man in front of you and tried to console yourself with the fact that he was far too jittery to look at you long.

No one will find out, you’re safe.

“Sir?”                                                                                  

You chewed your chip, feet tapping irregularly on the ground in agitation.

“Sir?” The officer said again, peering at you worriedly. You quickly pulled down the rim of your hat, still not used to being called ‘sir’.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” You said, clearing your throat and trying for a deeper voice. The officer handed you your papers back, all signed and stamped. “Thank you.”

He nodded slightly and motioned for you to wait while your client was brought out. This was the first time you’d been out in the open alone, the fear of discovery clashing with the freedom that ran in your veins.

“Did you bail me out?” A rough voice asked. You looked up at Mr. Lane, a huge mountain of a man who towered over you. You nodded and offered him your hand to shake, wincing as his rough palms scratched against your soft ones. He looked doubtfully at you and you could understand why. You barely looked like a person who belonged in the police station, no matter as a man or woman.

“I am Mr. Barber’s assistant. He was busy with a hearing and sent me to bail you out. If you’d follow me to his office, he’d like a word before we proceed to your trial next week.” You explained, a little more confident. You knew the work, you knew the ways. You only needed to sell your lies to make your truth valid.

Mr. Lane nodded, following and entering the coach outside the station after you. He sat across from you, eyes narrowing as he ran over your soft features, the clip clop of the horses the only sound within.

“You old enough to be an assistant, boy?” Mr. Lane asked, and you scowled. Oh, how you’d like to tell him you were old enough and good enough to be not just an assistant but also a lawyer. You could be the one representing him in court and making him a free man. You should be that one. But, alas, this world doesn’t see women doing much rather than peeling potatoes and popping out a child every second year.

“I am.” You replied in a gruff tone that made it clear you weren’t about to entertain more questions. Your companion nodded, looking out the window and into the streets where peddlers screamed about discounted watches and handkerchiefs and buttons. Not many people had cushioned coaches like this, but Mr. Barber insisted one for your travels.

The journey to the office was quick and silent and you gestured Mr. Lane to follow you up to the top floor where your boss sat in his office. Some people nodded at you, now getting used to seeing you here though they didn’t stop to talk. You had never spoken much to anyone here outside of the receptionist who was deaf in one ear and considered every man under the age of 40 was a boy.  

“Wait here, I’ll let you in in a moment.” You said and had Mr. Lane take a seat on the benches outside. Then, you knocked softly and entered, shutting the door after you. Andy was sat behind his desk, frowning at some paper, and beckoned you closer without looking up from them. You walked over to him, licking you lips softly.

“Sit.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you into his lap. You positioned yourself on his thigh, squirming a little. He scribbled something in the corner of his paper before pushing it away with a sigh, turning his face to you. His eyes, bluer than the ocean at the docks, glittered at you and a small smile curled on his lips. With a practiced move, he removed your top hat and released the band that held your long locks tied together at the top.

Running his fingers through your hair, he leaned closer to press a kiss on your lips. You instinctively kissed back, holding onto his shoulder and moulding your lips to fit his.

“How did it go?” He asked, caressing your cheek softly. You fingered his collar, not looking in his eyes.

“I was worried someone will see through me.” You softly murmured. “There were so many men out there.”

Andy chuckled, pressing another kiss on your lips as his hand sneaked around your waist to bring you closer.

“There are always going to be men around. But you must remember you’re better than them. Better than any other son of a dick out there pretending he is the boss.”

You looked at him at that, taking in his beautiful face that had you smiling and crying in equal parts. You could tell exactly how that well-groomed beard felt between your legs, how those lips could make you utter the filthiest of sounds and curses and how those large hands touched you in the dark of the night.

“Better than even you?” You tentatively asked and Andy smiled, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth.

“You’ve always been better than me.” He said. You blinked and looked away, his gaze far too intimate to hold. Try as you might, you could not figure this man out. Months you’d spent with him, living, and working and being his any way he asked, and yet he was as much a mystery as he’d been the first time you met.

“Uh, Mr. Lane is waiting outside. Should I call him in?” You asked and he nodded, squeezing your side before releasing you. You put your hair up again and wore your hat, hiding your face under its shadows and calling the client in.

When a girl turns a certain age, she is expected to find the most eligible bachelor and flutter her eyelashes in a bid to secure a match. Your mother threw grand balls for your sisters and was planning an even grander one for your introduction to the society. But you had had enough of dancing with lecherous bastards with as wandering hands as their eyes. You couldn’t stomach the thought of being bound to one of them, so you took your chance and ran.

Leaving behind your quaint town, you entered the bustling city with an assortment of clothes and a heart full of hope. It took you a week to understand that this was no place for you, no place for a lady who dreamt of being her own person. No one wished to employ you, a young girl who had no business demanding pay and rights.

However, in this bustling city of strangers, you found a man who wished to own you. Andy Barber told you in no uncertain terms that he would not hire you as long as you dressed like a woman, but he also promised that he could train you to be better than any other man. Provided, you give yourself to him. You weren’t naïve enough to pretend to not know what he was asking for, but you were desperate enough to say yes. This was better than a marriage anyway. There too, a man would have parched his thirst over your naked chest, but at least here you could learn and get paid for it without being bound to him.

Andy was not unkind. As a mentor, he was strict and meticulous. He worked you hard, taught you well, gave bitter feedback but praised you just the same. As a lover, he was exacting, exploring your chaste body with touches rough and soft, demanding response and reverence. The first night you laid with him, he spent hours worshiping you. His lips, lined by his bushy mustache, traced your face and neck, roving over each contour of your body until his mouth had tasted all.

The modesty you had guarded forever was bare to his gaze, but he didn’t lust like a man who cornered women in dark alleys. He had knelt before your open legs like men of cloth did at the lord’s altar, kissing the dewy folds of your sex with so much passion and delicacy that you had indeed felt like a goddess. Never had you imagined a man to put his mouth there, not when your mother had told you it was unclean. Andy, on the other hand, tasted it like he tasted absolution in your nectar.

He taught you more than simply law. The pleasures of flesh, of learning to please yourself and your companion were lessons that took place in the dark of night. He whispered things that Satan preached in your ear, seducing you into sin that you soon came to crave.

“Touch yourself”, a command he gave often. Nothing pleased him more than seeing you bring yourself to completion with your eyes trained on him, thoughts full only of him and how his body rocked yours.

You had done a great many things with him, things that had you flustered for days on end whenever your thoughts would turn to him, but what you were doing now was nothing short of scandal. It was blasphemous, something that would ruin you way more than if people found you falsely parading as a man in the city.

“Andy!” You hissed, pushing against him to no avail. He had dragged you into the men’s room inside the courthouse, cornering you against the wall and pressing his body flush to yours. He was wearing his best clothes today, about to represent an important man in a case that had made the front page for two weeks straight. Time together had been more work than pleasure, and it seemed Andy had reached his breaking point right before the trial started.

He started working on the buttons of your waistcoat, a frenzy in his eyes. “I need to take you now. This might as well be the most important case of my career, and I’ll begin it by being inside you, and end it just the same!”

You moaned, letting your hands roam his body as he finally undid your waistcoat and shirt, frantically ripping away at the bandages that bound your breasts. As he took one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, you palmed his pulsing hardness from over his pants, shivering at the thought of feeling it inside you again.

He scared you like this, for someone could walk in and see the illustrated Andrew Barber making a beast with two backs in the male room with someone who greatly resembled a man. He will be ruined. You would be ruined. And as of now, the very thought of that caused wetness to pool in your underpants.

“Get on your knees and taste me.” He urged, pulling out his cock and pumping it. “As you sit beside me today, I want you to have my taste in your mouth. One day, I’ll sit beside you too.”

You were a gently bred lady of impeccable reputation, but you sunk to your knees with the practiced move of a street woman to take him eagerly in your mouth. Oh, if your proper mother could see you, sucking a man like a whore in the damp men’s room, her teachings of propriety and modesty all but forgotten. But nothing made you feel more than a woman that receiving Andy like this. His desire, his need for you burned in his eyes and you lapped on those flames to quench the thirst in your heart.

His hand moved behind your head, easing you into taking him deeper. “Look at me” He whispered, and your eyes met his, shining with unshed tears. He did this to you, reduced you to who you loathed to be and yet loved. Swirling your tongue over his soft skin, you bobbed over his length, the squelching sounds filling the small room.

Just like always, you tasted his power and his yearning. The milky drops of precum coated your tongue, your nose taking in the smell of his musk as he groaned above you. He reduced you, but then why did you feel raised?

“Touch yourself, let me taste you too.” He ordered, and you complied. Your hand slipped inside your pants, finding your moist core. Generously lubing your fingers in your slick, you rose on shaky knees and presented your wet fingers to Andy who sucked them eagerly in his mouth. Warm, wet, his tongue took in your taste with relish.

You couldn’t stop but stare into his blue eyes, eyes that should have haunted your nightmares, but you only saw them in sweet dreams. “Kiss me” You begged, and he did. He kissed you like a man starved, like a man who could suck out your soul and draw it in himself. He kissed you like dew kissed the morning grass, like the colours of rainbow that scattered in the sky to paint it pretty.

“Tell me where you want me, how you want me.” He said, surrendering control. You stilled, hands resting on his chest. How were you to lead him when he was infinitely more experienced about the art of making love?

“I – I want you inside me.” You softly said, eyes fluttering as you shy looked away. Why was saying what you do so many times so difficult.

“Inside where?” Andy asked, tilting your chin up again. You gulped, your face and chest flushed.

“In my – in my” You stuttered, fearing to speak the word he spoke often. “In my pussy.”

You would have thought he would ravish you as soon as you said the words, instead he brought you closer and nudged your nose with his. His breath came out in erratic spurts, his need evident in his gaze. “You will put me inside you, however you want. It’s time I let you take some lead.”

Holding his gaze, you pumped his length gently before turning around and presenting him your ass. You struggled to position him, trying to place his tip at your opening. He didn’t move an inch to help you, only chuckling slightly when you huffed in frustration. Finally, you felt him at your slit, and you slid him between your folds carefully, trying to coat him in your wetness like you’d seen him do.

“What if someone walks in?” You asked, hesitating for just one moment.

“They’ll have to wait while we finish. You’re not walking out of here unsullied, so how about we hurry up?”

You pushed back into him, taking him inside your pulsing sleeve with ease. The stretch of his cock had always felt good, a pain that had a lasting effect and reminded you of him. As you moved back and forth, urging him to meet you halfway, you wondered why the self loathing never came. Andy had a way of making you feel like a queen when others may suspect you of nothing more than a whore.

“Andy” You brokenly said as he thrust inside you faster, “I want more. Please.”

He gave you more. He took over, holding onto your waist and sliding home inside you in deep, powerful strokes. You whined under his assault, jerking when his fingers found your nub and mashed it. Praises, curses, words of love and lust that had the power to destroy hearts and armies flowed freely from his mouth, as if the only thing tethering him to this earth was your body.

Your hands went to play with your breasts, a strangled moan caught in your chest. Suddenly, even when he moved inside you with such passion, you craved more intimacy than his cock could offer. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your mouth that he took in a sensual kiss. You were so close that you couldn’t decide what limb was yours and which was his anymore. In the age old dance of sensual love, you became one.

“What do you want?” He asked, and your eyes met his. He asked you this every time, and you had always answered the same thing. But today, this felt different. You were in the courthouse, a lawyer’s battleground and also the place of worship. He was more than your mentor and boss, he was also the man who you had grown to care for so deeply it could only be called one feeling.

“Inside me. I want you to finish inside me today.” You answered and his hands clutched you tighter. You’d never allowed that before, never allowed him to call you his so completely. But you felt compelled by his heat today, by the desperation he never bothered hiding from you. Once, this may have felt like a chore. Today, it was your blessing. “Andy, make me yours.”

He groaned, pumping in you with abandon and bringing you over the edge with his fingers that were running circles around your clit. You moaned loud, blubbering in pleasure that spilled from you, uncaring if someone were to walk in. His thrusts were getting irregular, hips jerking until you felt him twitch and release inside you in hot spurts. Warmth bloomed in your core, your essence mixing with his.

He hugged your sweaty body to his, the wool of his coat scratchy against your flesh. “You were mine, even before. Now, more so than ever. And one day, when you’re ready, I’ll claim you in front of the world as fully as my heart has done in private.”

You felt him run his thumb over your ring finger and licked your lips. He wasn’t asking, and you weren’t answering. But one day, maybe you will. Until then, you were happy to be his beautiful secret, posing as his assistant and learning from him.

“Don’t,” He whispered hotly in your ear, turning you around swiftly. “Don’t think too much. We’ve got a case to win.”

He helped you dress again, buttoning your shirt and waistcoat with nimble fingers. He was getting back to being your boss, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him at this moment. One day it will be you in his spot, you knew it.

“Just one question.” You said, fixing his tie and smoothening the wrinkles on his clothes. He raised an eyebrow at you, softly smiling at the mischievous look in his eyes. “What will happen once I am a lawyer too?”

Andy chuckled, pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. “Whoever wins more cases gets to be on top of course.”

You exited the men’s room with him, head high as any other man’s. As you entered the courtroom, you licked your lips and smiled as you tasted him on your tongue.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Part Two

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡/𝐄𝐦𝐨! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)/ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥/𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝐨𝐛 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩*𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐘/𝐍 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭��𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝐊+

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @hanatiny @vocalyunho @galaxteez (payback you little bitch)

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Awoken from her daydream, Y/N grumbled when her best friend shoved his notebook in her face.

"Earth to Y/N!" He shouted as he ruffled her hair with the object in his hand.

"Mingi! What the hell?" She complained as she pushed the notebook away.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the past 3 minutes. Are you even listening to me?" He questioned her.

"I am!" She interjected.

Giving her a quizzical look, he crossed his arms.

"Really? Then can you tell me what the answer is?"

Ripping the notebook from his hands, she looked over the equation that filling half the page, squinting at it every now and then before ultimately admitting defeat as she slowly handed it back to the genius sitting next to her on the bench.

Rolling his eyes, Mingi let out a small sigh as he began packing up his belongings, deeming it useless to continue his semi-tutoring session.

"Don't give me that look Min, not everyone is a cute nerd like you that can solve an advanced calculus problem in mere seconds."

"Ok! Although that may be true.." He held up a finger as he paused to fully zip up his bag.

"You're pretty smart too Y/N."

She gave him a small thankful smile at his comment.

"You're problem isn't that you're dumb. Your problem is currently standing right over there."

She hesitantly tilted her head to where his head gestured at, knowing fully well what she'd see. But as soon as she caught a glimpse of the black combat boots, her eyes stayed fixated on the figure reclining against the lamppost. Her eyes trailed up his ripped black skinny jeans, up his torso which was covered by a striped black and dark red turtleneck, its sleeves peeking out of the black studded leather jacket layered on top, until they landed on his nonchalant gaze. His eyes were looking down at his phone, the input connected to the headphones that were currently resting on top of his dark ash grey head. That was how one would mostly find Kim Hongjoong: lost in his own little world, blocking out the rest of his environment with a click of his music playlist, no doubt filled with bands like Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin and MCR. Y/N wasn't going to lie, more than once she often thought about playing a G note near him just to see if he'd react or not. Thinking about him actually reacting to anything made her giggle on the inside.

"And there you go again!" Mingi's voice yelled in her ear.

She was so startled by his piercing scream, she actually fell over and hit the pavement kinda hard. She winced as she felt a pain on her derriere.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." She groaned as she began lifting herself up.

Out of nowhere, a pair of arms scooped her up and helped her stand upright.

"You all right?" The person asked.

"I think so. Thank you for-"

Her words got caught on her throat as a pair of dark brown eyes looked at her, black eyeliner smoked out to accentuate the shape of his eyes and make them look more intense than they already were.

He smirked at her before looking over at Mingi and nodding at him.

"Yunho sent you the invite right?"

Although he was quite familiar and somewhat friendly with Hongjoong, Mingi still had a hard time talking to him, so he merely tilted his head down in a half nod.

"So you're coming or are you going to stay home again and study for any surprise quiz Professor Nam might try to give us?"

Mingi poked his bottom lip out, somewhat offended at being called out like that. The dark male let out a soft snort.

"Seriously Mingi, going out once in a while won't hurt you. You don't even have to get fucked up if you don't want. Just come hang out."

Turning his attention back at the girl silently admiring him, he flashed her a wink.

"Bring a friend if you want too."

Bringing the headphones up to cover his overly pierced ears, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away in that usual way of his that made several people think he was on his way to commit a felony or crime.

Y/N watched him leave until he was completely out of sight, and even then, she still stayed staring at the corner he turned. Leaning in, Mingi stared at her with widened eyes.

"Your middle school phase of liking Andy Biersack copycats is really showing Y/N."

She scoffed and pushed his face away from hers.

"Shut up, you act like you didn't have your own infatuation with Hayley Williams."

Mingi stiffened, his ears turning slightly red at the memories.

"I got over it didn't I?"

"I don't know? Did you?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him teasingly.

"Some friend you are. And here I was actually thinking of taking you with me to the weekend bash Yunho and his friends invited me to."

Y/N looked at him in disbelief.

"First off, why would they even invite you? You're not even a part of their clique. Second, even if they had invited you, you wouldn't go. You're too uptight." She accused him.

Squinting his eyes at her, Mingi cleared his throat.

"For your information, I got paired up with Yunho, Hongjoong and Jongho once for a group project and we actually keep in touch since then."

Y/N dropped her hands to the side, a loud slapping noise made against her thighs.

"When was this?"

"Around the time you went to that trip with your parents back home." He answered.

Her mouth dropped open.

"And you never told me this because.....?"

Mingi rolled his eyes.

"Because you would have teased me or would have said something about a nerd, a jock, a teacher's pet and an emo goth, whatever hell spawn demon he is, in a room together and actually getting along."

"I mean, I get them getting along, not so sure about a boring old prick like you though." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Mingi held his fingers up, threatening to flick her forehead if she continued, but Y/N flinched away.

"You ass. And here I was actually thinking of going and taking you so you can hit on your dream boy." He expressed as he began his walk back home, already deeming it late to stay behind on campus grounds.

Following suit and placing herself on his left, Y/N uttered out.

"He's not my dream boy..."

"Really? Then why do you keep drooling over him and looking at him with googly eyes about to pop out of their sockets?" He inquired.

"He's just.....he's just a complex character. Full of mystery and shrouded in this dark aura that I want to get past and see what's behind it...."

She hesitated even though she was supposed to be answering a question. She felt kinda stupid for thinking like that, making Hongjoong seem like some type of enigma when in reality, he could just be a normal person like all the other people that walked past her on the streets. Her friend didn't judge her though, owing some of her curiosity to her psychology major and passion. Slumping an arm around her, he playfully nuzzled his nose against her cheek, making her emit a half-whine half snort hybrid sound at his antics, trying to release herself from his grasp.

"You're so cute. Now come on. I have to take you shopping."

Not even bothering to ask if she had plans or needed to be somewhere else, Mingi linked hands with her and pulled her with him as he speedily walked in the direction of the nearest mall available.

"Explain to me why that is necessary Einstein? You always hated going shopping with me." She nearly tripped trying to keep up with his long strides.

"Because if you want to win emo boy's heart, you at least gotta start looking like his type." He called back at her.

"And what exactly would his type be?"

"Just trust me and leave it all to me."

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Y/N wasn't sure about trusting Mingi anymore as they made their way through a dense, misty and dark forest, the only illumination available being the moonlight that casted a blue tinted beam at their surroundings. Her head whipped with every strange noise that came from bushes or behind a tree. It was kinda chilly and the light breeze that whooshed past them had her legs shivering, making her regret wearing the distressed black shorts and fishnet tights under an oversized Scorpions tshirt that covered most of the shorts, making it look like a no pants look.

"Mingi? Are you sure about this?" She was only thankful of her purchase of some Dr. Martens 1460 black boots which helped her not fall or trip easily on the dirt road.

Mingi, who was an even more scared baby than she was, was fumbled with the sleeves of his pullover hoodie.

"Yeah, Yunho sent me directions and it should be around here somewhere..." He tussled his hair back, trying to hear or distinguish any sound.

"Are you sure he didn't send you to his murder site?" She asked, looking around for any suspicious thing.

Right at that moment, a figure jumped out in front of them, causing both of them to start screaming in terror. Mingi in particular, pushed Y/N to the side and began running in the opposite direction.

"Well dang, he didn't even let me yell boo or something."

Y/N recognized the buff male in front of her as Choi Jongho, the running back of the football team. Giving her an apologetic look, he helped her up after Mingi accidentally pushed her onto the dirt. As she dusted the dirt off, Jongho looked at her band tee.

"Scorpions?" He pointed at it.

He uttered a small 'cool' before signaling her to follow him. Turns out, they were actually not far off from the location, which was actually an old abandoned 2 story summer house that resembled more a barn to her than an actual living space. Cars were all parked out around the area and music was blasting from speakers connected to who knows where. People who hung outside were either vaping their Juuls and chugging back bottles of Smirnoff or Mike's Hard beers, some already halfway to being wasted while others simply held it in their hands, hardly taking a sip as they scanned around trying to find someone to go back home with.

"Don't worry about Mingi. I'll go get him......eventually."

Hearing him snicker, Y/N was actually more worried about herself than Mingi. She only agreed to come because, as surprising as it was, he encouraged her to and knowing he'd be there by her side, being the only person she could stick to cause she did not know anyone else, gave her a little bit of courage. But not anymore after he just totally ditched her and left her alone in God knows where.

Seeing her shift around uncomfortably as they passed through a crowd of wild jumping people, Jongho laced his fingers in hers and brought her over to a more quiet side of the place, where 3 other people were standing around, chatting amongst themselves. Once the two huddled up close to each other saw Jongho and a mystery girl they'd never seen before, they began nudging and whispering among themselves, one of them chuckling under his breath. Hongjoong could already guess what his friend's conversations was about, but he simply rolled his eyes at their behavior and lustful gazes.

Until he turned his head and saw who it was next to Jongho. Then took out the red vape in from his lips and made it a point to exhale the fumes onto the younger member's faces.

"Yah! Hyung! What the hell?" His friend with cat like eyes remarked as he coughed and fanned away the cancerous smoke.

"Just cause you don't care about contracting lung's disease at an early age, doesn't mean San or I want any part of it." The other said.

"Wow. I'm impressed you actually know what contracting means Wooyoung." He smiled amusingly at his younger friend, who was not very pleased with his little joke.

"Hey guys! While trying to retrieve Mingi, I made a new friend." Jongho greeted them like a happy bunny as he held up his hand which was still holding Y/N's.

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed down at where they connected, an eyebrow raised at their physical contact as the hand that held his vape pen began fidgeting it rapidly between his fingers. Jongho of course was oblivious to the anger burning through Hongjoong's stare while Wooyoung and San caught on pretty quick and began debating whether to laugh or step in before bottles were thrown.

"Ok, so where is Mingi now?" San asked him.

"He ran off." Jongho shrugged.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Wooyoung pushed himself in between them both, effectively separating them as he pulled Jongho away.

"Great! Now we gotta go find him before he gets lost."

Looking back at Y/N, he waved.

"Hi! I'm Wooyoung, I'm bi and goodbye! You seem nice. Hopefully there's a next time."

Y/N blinked at the flamboyant boy's introduction and exit, wondering if it was planned or-

"No he didn't actually mean to rhyme. He's cute but too dumb to make up a poem on the spot." San answered the question on her mind.

Looking back at Hongjoong, he smiled mischievously.

"Hongjoong definitely can. He's into dark poetry and that Edward Pie guy. Have him recite something to you."

Hongjoong fumed at San who merely patted his shoulder and placed his cup in Hongjoong's hand before sauntering off with the other two.

"Edgar Allen Poe you fucking moron!" Hongjoong yelled as he lifted the cup up, tempted to throw it at him.

Y/N held her hand to her lips for a brief instant, trying to suppress the smile threatening to form across her lips. Hongjoong sighed as he stared down at the contents in the cup, swirling it around casually before holding it out to Y/N.

"Want some?" He offered.

"Umm....sure?"

She didn't even know why she accepted it. She'd never drank before in her life and for all she knew, it could have been laced with something. But not wanting to look like a little priss, she took a deep breath before trying to gulp down whatever alcohol was inside. It burned down her throat and she spat some of it back in the cup, unable to hide the cringing expression at the strong liquor.

"What. Is. That?" She questioned as she wiped the liquid that was on her chin and lips.

Hongjoong snorted as he responded that it was straight vodka, making Y/N feel embarrassed to have let him see such a spectacle from her.

"You're not much of a drinker are you? Or hardly one right?"

Her sheepish look was a dead giveaway which had Hongjoong laughing slightly, his lips parting slightly. Y/N was not only surprised to hear him laugh for the first time, but was intrigued when she saw something metallic on his tongue, making her wonder if he was chewing on something. Noticing her curious gaze, Hongjoong's lip curled up at one corner.

"Oh. That's just a piercing."

He had no qualms and simply stuck his tongue out to let her see the silver bar that was plunged through his tongue, each end having a round ball.

"Wow.....that's impressive." She couldn't deny it was extremely attractive.

Hongjoong himself was just attractive in general. Standing there wearing his usual leather jacket, a black tshirt with red letters, and a red turtleneck peeking out from the top, covering his neck. His usual preference for ripped black jeans was not missing, only this time, he added a little flare by having a piece of red plaid fabric chained around his waist, making it look like a half-skirt look. It seriously made him more hotter than he already was.

"Yeah I know. It's even more impressive when I put it to work."

Pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, he stepped closer to Y/N, one arm propping against the wall in front of her as he looked at her with hunger and desire in his eyes, those eyes that were once again covered with smoked out eyeliner, only this time he added a hint of red that really made them stand out more and seemed to lure you in and see deep in his soul.

"Wanna experience it first hand?"

She was so lost in his eyes, she almost didn't hear him, until she realized what he meant.

"Here?" She mouthed and gestured around them.

Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed.

"Obviously not here. I'm not like those people outside who are probably already getting to 2nd base in front of everyone."

"Oh....." Now she really felt her cheeks flush red.

Hongjoong patiently tapped his black colored fingernails on the concrete wall, waiting for her answer. She seemed to be debating withing herself so much, until her eyes fell on the patch of skin that was showing when his jacket sleeve rose up, letting her catch a glimpse of black ink that probably went up his arm.

"Listen, if you don't want to that's fine. I know when no means no-" He began to assure her.

"Ok." She quickly responded, interrupting his speech.

"Wait- you're serious?" He slumped his arm off the wall, quite shocked she'd agree.

She nodded. "Yeah."

When it was now Hongjoong who was standing quiet, Y/N giggled and leaned in.

"I mean...if you don't want to-"

She had no time to finish the sentence and his hands gripped her waist and pressed her against him, his breath fanning over hers, the strawberry scent of the vape pen still lingering in his mouth.

"Trust me, I've wanted to for a long time."

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As soon as the door to Hongjoong's room in the dorm clicked shut, the tension in the room seemed to thicken. Y/N gulped slightly as she realized this is really happening. Not that she didn't want it to, but to actually have Hongjoong standing in front of her, his eyes already undressing and fucking her, while his bottom lip was caught in his front teeth, was definitely not a reality her brain was fully convincing. It wasn't until Hongjoong's thumb grazed her bottom lip, making her exhale a tiny gasp, that it fully dawned on her what was going to happen.

"Don't worry babydoll. I promise you'll get breathless after I'm done with you."

Wrapping his hand on the back of her neck to tilt it slightly upwards, his lips came down and covered her own, pressing against them before slightly parting and covering them once more. He started out slow before turning it more intense, nipping down roughly at her top lip in an effort to get her to open her mouth for him. When she did, his hands cupped the sides of her jaw, thumbs pressed against her cheeks to keep her face from moving as his tongue poked out and slipped inside her mouth. A muffled moan protruded from her throat when Hongjoong rolled his tongue over hers, his tongue piercing grazing the roof of her mouth. He then began swirling his wet muscle around her own, letting her feel the cold metallic jewelry that was sending shocks down her body. When his hands released their hold on her face, they only did so to glide down her torso before snaking down underneath her shirt to cup the back of her shorts, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks, nails lightly raking across the exposed skin under the ripped hem.

Feeling like things weren't going fast enough for how needy she was growing, Y/N ran her hands across Hongjoong's chest, going up to his shoulders and sliding his leather jacket off them. Getting the hint, Hongjoong let it fall to the floor and soon his graphic tshirt followed suit, leaving him in his tight fitted red turtleneck that practically clung to his skin, his pectoral muscles that were well above average for someone his size perfectly outlined. As eye catching as it was, that wasn't what caught her attention. What kept her eyes trained on his chest was some weird thing poking out suspiciously.

He chuckled as he knew what she was curious about.

"Oh. That my dear doll, are another pair of piercings I got."

Y/N nearly drooled as he lifted his shirt off, not only revealing the hidden 11 abs he owned, but the arm sleeve tattoo that went from his wrist to a little bit above his right upper arm. On his left side, there was no tattoo on his arm, but instead on his ribcage. But the thing that made her squeeze her thighs together were the black colored metal pieces that were lined across his nipples. Unable to help herself, her hands reached out to touch them, but Hongjoong quickly stopped her.

"Ok doll, before you get ahead of yourself, at least one article of clothing has to come off your body." He smiled cheekily at her.

No hesitation, Y/N soon discarded her own shirt, tossing it somewhere on the room, leaving her torso covered with only her black lace bra that didn't exactly cover much.

"Fuck babygirl, where you hiding that all this- Oh, oh my!"

Hongjoong nearly fell back on his bed when Y/N pressed her face against his chest, her tongue darting out to lick around his pierced nipples. He swallowed as he collected himself, trying not to get too turned on as her tongue played around with the piercings, sometimes nipping at them. Hongjoong arched his back slightly, letting her take as much of him in her mouth as she pleased. The nipple that wasn't being made out with her mouth, was being pleasured by her hand, pinching and gently tugging at it.

"You can go as hard as you want."

Giggling darkly, he took her free hand and placed it on the erection poking out in his pants.

"I'll have you know I enjoy a little pain."

Making her squeeze down on it, Y/N could feel something odd, which prompted her to poke and grope him more fiercely. Wanting to satisfy her curiosity, Hongjoong unzipped his pants and pulled them down mid thigh to let her admire the last set of piercings he owned:

A Jacob's ladder running up the base of his dick and an ampallang pierced through the head.

"Holy shit...." Whether she said it out loud or not, Y/N didn't care. It was the most erotic image she had ever seen and she could not believe that in mere minutes, it would be inside her, no doubt destroying and tearing her walls apart.

Leaning in, Hongjoong sloppily kissed and sucked her jaw and down her upper neck.

"You're free to play with it as you wish doll. I got them for more than one reason. And that's one of them."

Not needing to be told twice, her hand wrapped around the base of his erect cock, her thumb running across his slit. Hongjoong hissed slightly when her hand began pumping him slowly, purposefully applying pressure to the silver metal adorning his length. Taking advantage of the his hazy state, Y/N returned to her previous task of playing with his nipple piercings. Hongjoong threw his head back at immense pleasure he was feeling, loving when Y/N would squeeze him a little to harsh or bite roughly at his nipples. He felt more intoxicated and high being painfully pleasured by her hand and mouth than with any THC chemical he'd ever introduce inside his system.

Without realizing it, he instinctively began bucking his hips up, wanting to chase the release that was building up inside him. Knowing what he wanted, Y/N lifted her head up and sucked on his neck, speeding up her hand movements.

"You gonna cum for me Joongie? Gonna cum all over my hand? Make a mess and soak my fingers with your dirty cum?" She taunted at him.

Unable to hold back especially after her dirty teasing, with a mutter of curses, he spilled himself all over her hand, some of it splattering onto her fishnets. Once he regained his senses, he looked down to find her looking at him with a shit eating grin.

"Heh......don't think you're in charge here doll. This is still my territory."

Swooping her up, she let out a little yelp when he tossed her onto his bed, immediately crawling in between her legs. After getting rid of his pants and briefs, his hands gripped on her belt loops to pull her shorts down. His eyes scanned her body, trying to decide on something. He hummed softly as his hand pressed down onto her clothed heat.

"I'm not going deny it, those fishnets do look remarkably sexy on you....."

With mock pity, he sighed. "Oh well."

Y/N gasped in horror as he tore a hole right in the crotch area, leaving the rest untouched. Opening his desk drawer, she widened her eyes when he took out a pocket knife and flashed it across her face.

"Relax doll. I like pain, but knife play isn't really my thing. On me or my partner."

After ordering her to stay still, she watched as he carefully cut on the sides of her lace panties, just enough to carefully slip them off her body without having to take off her tights. Although in any other situation she would have instantly closed her legs, she didn't feel like doing it this time. It turned her on and made her feel sexier to instead pry her legs open, letting Hongjoong peer down at her glistening folds that he caused, her hands running themselves down her chest as she bit down at her lip.

"Fuck! You're practically drenched already Y/N." Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow at her.

She only giggled before reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, slowly pulling the straps down before flinging it behind Hongjoong, letting it join the other pile of clothes scattered about. Hongjoong instantly became hard again, but as much as he wanted to bury his pierced cock inside her and fuck her senseless, there was still one thing he really wanted to do.

Positioning herself in between her legs, his hands gripped the back of her thighs. Looking back at her, he sent a wink her way before attaching his mouth to her soaking heat, causing her to jolt up at the sudden sensation. Knowing exactly how to get her head spinning, Hongjoong slid his tongue up her slit, making sure to drag the metal piece across her folds. It was unlike anything she felt before. Hongjoong already was demonstrating his powerful tongue skills, but the piercing just added a whole new sensation that had her shivering. She couldn't contain the moans spilling out her mouth when his tongue slipped inside her hole, her noises only turning louder when he flicked his tongue in a particular way that made the round metal tip thump against her clit. Hongjoong especially loved doing that little maneuver of hitting her clit with it.

When she felt herself about to burst, Y/N's hands clutched the sheets underneath her.

"Hong-Hongjoong I'm gonna- Aaah!"

The fire pooling in her lower abdomen broke free and rushed down, sending burning sparks up her body as her body trembled at the sensation. Pressing a hand down to hold her still, Hongjoong lapped up her her juices, moaning on her clit, the vibrations only serving to make her more sensitive to any move he made on her body.

When he felt she was ready, he swiftly sat up and positioned his pierced member at her entrance. Making sure to prep her, he got out a bottle of lube out of his drawer and poured some onto the tip of his fingers, spreading it around before inserting two fingers inside her. It had a slight cooling effect that made Y/N hum in pleasure, her mouth going slightly agape when he inserted a third finger, scissoring her out and overall making sure she was stretched out enough.

"Patience doll. I don't want to cause any unnecessary pain....."

She let out a whimper when he withdrew his hand and slapped her clit.

"That much." He finished.

Propping herself on her elbows, she kept her gaze in between their legs. She let out a cry when Hongjoong's head slipped inside her, the round tips of the ampallang piercing stretching her hole in a delicious burn. Next came the metal ridges that scraped against her lower walls, it was an absolutely exhilarating experience. Hongjoong himself let out a groan when he fit himself inside her tight and warm cavern.

"Jesus babydoll. When was the last time you had a good fuck?" He gripped her hips, trying to keep himself from moving just yet.

"Too f-fucking long." She disclosed, her head falling back against the pillow in a disappointed look.

"Well don't worry babe. I'll make sure to fuck any name out of that brain of yours, you won't even remember your own."

Snapping his hips up, he began a rather hard and fast pace, making sure to angle himself so he hit her g-spot. Y/N's hands held onto his arms, choked breaths and screams coming out of her mouth as she began drowning in the immense pleasure he was giving her. The way the metallic piercings raked against her walls every time Hongjoong thrusted in and out of her was indescribable. At first it felt strange and slightly painful, but soon it became addicting, almost to the point of being overwhelming.

Hongjoong took notice of the way her lips parted whenever the ladder piercing grazed at a particular spot.

"You're enjoying this my angel? Like being fucked by my pierced dick?"

Licking his hand, he dropped it down to spank her throbbing and swollen clit, grinning almost sadistically when she shrieked out at his pleasurable torture.

"Do you just enjoy being used like a dirty little hole? Isn't that what you are in the end? Just a filthy hole for me to fuck as I like?"

The corners of her eyes began spilling out tiny droplets of tears as his hand continued his assault on her clit, slapping it until it turned a bright shade of pink. Feeling the intensity build up yet again in the pit of her stomach.

"Hongjoong! I'm gonna cum!" She warned him.

Snaking his hand to grip her neck, Hongjoong sped up his thrusts, fucking her in a frenzy, sending her into a mental state of pure euphoria as he cut off part of her breathing. Y/N shut her eyes as a violent orgasm ripped through her body, her body thrashing and quivering under Hongjoong's. With clenched teeth and furrowed eyes, Hongjoong completely shattered on top of her, spilling himself inside her clenched walls that were milking him past his breaking point. Releasing his grip on her neck, he collapsed on top of her body, his hands spread out to keep himself from dropping all his weight on her.

"Oh my god!" He panted harshly as he tried to collect his breath and thoughts.

She was in no better state than he was, hair all disheveled, pussy still throbbing and her chest heaving up and down as her mind went blank. She only came to her senses when she felt Hongjoong get up and go out of his room, leaving her confused.

Did he regret it? Did he not enjoy it? Was he going to ask her to leave?

It turns out it was none of the above since he came back with a packet of wet tissues.

"You ok?" He asked, looking at her with concern.

After being reassured that she was fine, he plucked out some of the tissues and began wiping between her legs and thighs.

"Ok, these gotta go."

Hongjoong ripped more of the already destroyed fishnet tights and got them off her body, letting it hit the floor.

"Not like I would have used them again." Y/N agreed.

After cleaning both her and himself up, they both stayed quiet. Clearing her throat, Y/N made way to get up.

"Guess it's my cue to leave.."

"Wait don't go!"

Grasping her wrist, he pulled her back onto the bed, making her slightly straddle his lap. Looking up at her with such tender eyes, he offered:

"Stay the night. I don't want you to go just yet."

He said it with such a pleading tone that Y/N didn't have the heart to refuse his request. She just allowed him to place her beside him on the bed, his chest pressed against her back as one of his arms wrapped around her. She closed her eyes and slowly began drifting off to sleep. She was halfway gone when she felt Hongjoong wrapped something cold around her neck. Opening her eyes, she reached up and felt leather on her skin.

"What's this?" She questioned as her finger toyed with whatever was dangling from the device.

Hongjoong smiled fondly at the black choker strapped around her neck.

"Don't worry about it. Just wear it for me..."

His hand traced the red heart pendant dangling from the choker, the letters 'KHJ' engraved on the center of it.

"So everyone can see that you're all mine now."

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[fieldsofbone]

someone in the tags was asking for an explanation of the storyline(s) behind the phantom tomorrow music videos, and i assume folks who follow me already know BUT in the event that it’s helpful to have it delineated like this, i thought i’d share what i’d written in response to them!:

hi! i’m not sure how coherent or helpful this will be, but from what andy’s said, the video for ‘scarlet cross’ is intended to introduce the viewer to the world of the phantom tomorrow, which is a rebel group/faction that arose out of this sort of dystopian world they live in. it’s supposed to look super clean, almost not lived in, but you can see the echoes of this oppressive force in the individuals who go after scarlet (the woman the video follows), who is a member of the phantom tomorrow. the end of the video introduces blackbird, who’s this mysterious, batman-like “hero” (or presumed to be), who saves scarlet from these goons.

‘fields of bone’ picks up where ‘scarlet cross’ leaves off, and andy has said that the implication is that scarlet gets away with the help of blackbird and has now retreated to the underground world in which the phantom tomorrow lives and finds refuge. it’s supposed to look grittier, darker, dirtier. blackbird has come down to this world to essentially assess what’s going on, who the phantom tomorrow is, etc., when he encounters nine (the guy in the mask and white shirt), who’s intended to be a joker-like foil to blackbird’s batman. nine kills scarlet, and a confrontation ensues between blackbird and nine. it initially appears that nine has bested/killed blackbird, but we see toward the last minute that blackbird survives. the next video, crimson skies, depicts the “showdown” between nine and blackbird, where it appears that blackbird is killed.

from there comes ‘torch’, which follows the funeral procession for blackbird. the video shows a reverend-type figure aiding in the procession, and it’s later revealed to be nine in disguise. i believe after the band members all leave the church there is supposed to be a reveal that blackbird is alive, but at the last minute, nine presses a detonator on his phone that causes the church to explode, presumably killing blackbird once and for all.

the video for ‘born again’ was initially less clear to me; i felt like it was more a standard music video with theatrical aesthetic elements that match the world, but andy explained in an instagram post on friday that it was intended to show the “9th circle”, which refers to a location in the phantom tomorrow world that is “a plane of existence outside reality, a more esoteric version of a fire and brimstone afterlife but one that is directly attacking your daily life”.

[sleepiingchaos]

❀ *ﾟ andy biersack. cis man. he/him. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that syd whitechapel ( nickname: azathoth )? i think that the twenty-eight year old from norfolk, nebraska works as drummer for vain rogues and the ghost orchestra and bartender at the twisted sisters pub & member of the bastards, but outside of that people describe them as the rush of adrenaline when doing something dangerous, leather jacket rested on broad shoulders, and knives sharp enough to leave deep cuts. i hear they are capricious & malicious, but they are also known to be observant & charming. consider giving them a visit at their home in the kingpin trailer park and get to know why they’re called the blood knight. 

Full name: Syd Whitechapel

Nicknames: Sydious, Azathoth (Bastards), The Prince of Chaos

Birthday: December 21st

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: Bartender at the twisted sisters pub & drummer for vain rogues and the ghost orchestra

Neighborhood: Kingpin trailer park

Languages: English and Ukrainian

Traits: Moody, obsessive, violent, selfish, possessive, jealous, arrogant, intelligent, charming, dauntless, observant, adventurous, curious

- Syd’s a bit more defective and backward than the rest of his kind. There are gaps in his memories that make the timeline of events in them quite blurry but he remembers the original ones nonetheless. It is for this reason that Syd has mistaken them for his own childhood due to them being equally as violent as his true childhood.

- He’s from the small town of Norfolk, Nebraska. He, meaning his original copy, was born one of six children but they all mysteriously disappeared over the years, making Syd an only child from the age of 14. His father was sent to prison for some serious crimes so he was adopted by his aunt who lived in Anchorage when he was finally found after being missing for several years. Syd remained in Anchorage for awhile until his father died in prison, deciding to take his chances on the road when he grew sick of living in Alaska. He spent four years in a cycle of traveling from city to city and living in motel rooms or his car before he returned to Anchorage. In truth, he was decommissioned at a young age due to his disinterest in following rules, his uncontrollable violent behavior, and being far too independent to condition, and was forced to fend for himself until he was adopted.

- Syd’s a narcissistic sociopath but is unaware of it as his diagnosis has never been revealed to him. Being raised in an abusive and neglectful household only exacerbated this and turned Syd into someone who is not only reckless and destructive but manipulative too with no empathy for others. He's also got a knack for causing chaos and messing with people for fun or simply out of boredom. To make things worse, Syd knows he's good-looking and uses that as well as his charm to get what he wants from people. However, he can hide all of this whenever he wants to if it’s required to fulfill his own selfish interests.

- He fell into the Bastards a couple of months into what has become an eight-month stay. He was already living a life of low-level crime while on the road and fit in completely with the gang as if he’d always been there. While true loyalty doesn’t exist to Syd, the money and the excitement that comes with being one are enough to keep him in line enough not to step on too many toes.

- Music has always been a big part of Syd’s life, specifically rock and punk rock. It’s been the soundtrack to his life on the road for the last several years, but his love of it started much earlier than that. He was encouraged by a social worker to channel his rage into something productive after ending up in juvey and took up drumming. A few years later, Syd joined a band as the drummer and remained with them until he left town to experience life outside of Anchorage. However, he’s never lost his love of playing and has returned to his place as their drummer since he came back home.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 7, Number 8

Big Thief

Our August collection of short reviews contains more big names than usual with singles from Big Thief and Dry Cleaning, a digital compilation from Thou, live music from Obits and a side project from members of the Bats and the Clean. Never fear, there are obscurities as well, including an improv guitar player even Bill Meyer had hardly heard of, a Norwegian emo artist in love with Texas and a death metal outfit verging into psychedelia. Our writers, this time including Tim Clarke, Bill Meyer, Jennifer Kelly, Ian Mathers, Chris Liberato and Jonathan Shaw, like what they like, big or small, hyped or unknown. We hope you’ll like some of it, too.   

Marc Barreca — The Sleeper Awakes (Scissor Tail)

The Sleeper Wakes by Marc Barreca

Odd connections abound here. One might not expect the usually acoustic-oriented Scissor Tail Recordings to make a vinyl reissue of an electronic ambient music cassette from 1986, any more than one would expect its maker to currently earn his crust as a bankruptcy judge. So, let’s just shed those expectations and get to listening. Unlike so many lower profile electronic recordings from the 1980s, which seemed targeted for a space next to the cash register of a new age bookstore, this album offers a profusion of mysteries that compound the closer you listen to them. It’s not at all obvious what sounds Barreca fed into his Akai sampler. Japanese folk music? Church chimes? A log drum jam? Tugboat engines? One hears hints of such sounds, but they’ve been warped and dredged in a thin coat of murk, so that the predominant experience is one of feeling like you’re dreaming, even if your eyes are wide open.

Bill Meyer

Big Thief — “Little Things” / “Sparrow” (4AD)

Little Things/Sparrow by Big Thief

Who knows how much more music Big Thief might have released in the last 18 months if the pandemic hadn’t tripped them up? Given the creative momentum generated by 2019’s UFOF and Two Hands, it’s fair to assume the band have plenty of music waiting in the wings. “Little Things” and “Sparrow” arrive with no sign of a new album on the horizon, so are probably being released to promote Big Thief’s upcoming US and European tour. Both songs clock in at around five minutes and handle musical repetition in different satisfying ways. Reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everything,” but hyped up on caffeine, “Little Things” feels like an exciting new direction for the band. It cycles through its whirlpooling, modulated acoustic guitar over and over, the frantic little sequence of chords never changing; the interest comes from the ways in which the rest of the instruments bob and weave in the ever-shifting, psychedelic mix. “Sparrow” is a more traditional Big Thief song, sparse and sad. Its melancholic sway is enlivened by some beautiful wavering vocal harmonies as Adrianne Lenker paints a picture of a Garden of Eden populated by sparrows, owls and eagles, culminating in Adam blaming Eve for humankind’s fall from grace.

Tim Clarke

Simão Costa — Beat Without Byte: (Un)Learning Machine (Cipsela)

Beat With Out Byte by Simão Costa

Piano preparation often makes use of modest resources — bolts and combs, strings or maybe just a raincoat tossed into the instrument’s innards. By contrast, Simão Costa’s set-up looks like took all of the entries in a robotics assembly competition and set them to work agitating a snarl of cables that met the pirated telecommunication requirements for an especially crowded favela. But whether it’s twitching motors or Costa’s own hands doing the work, the sounds that come out of his sound remarkably rich and cohesive. He stirs drifting hums, metallic sonorities, and stomping rhythms into a bracingly immediate sonic onslaught.

Bill Meyer

Cots — Disturbing Body (Boiled)

Disturbing Body by Cots

Disturbing Body is the low-key debut album by Montreal-based musician Steph Yates, who enlisted Sandro Perri to produce. Where the songs are pared back to mostly just vocals and peppy major-seventh chords on nylon-string guitar — such as “Bitter Part of the Fruit” and “Midnight at the Station” — comparisons with bossa-nova classics such as “The Girl From Ipanema” inevitably arise. Where the tempo is slower, the chord voicings are less sun-dappled, and Perri’s arrangements call upon a wider palette of instrumental colors, the songs venture into more interesting terrain, calling to mind a less haunted Broadcast. There’s an eerie sway to the opening title track, backed by rich piano chords and clattering cymbal textures. Fender Rhodes and the light clack of a rhythm track give “Inertia of a Dream” an uneasy momentum. And forlorn trumpet, percussion and piano situate “Last Sip” at closing time in a forgotten jazz club. There’s something evasive yet subtly intoxicating at work here, the album’s ten songs breezing past in half an hour, leaving plenty of unanswered questions in their wake.

Tim Clarke

Dry Cleaning — “Bug Eggs” / “Tony Speaks!” (4AD)

Bug Eggs/Tony Speaks! by Dry Cleaning

A few months on from the release of their excellent debut album, New Long Leg, Dry Cleaning have put out two more songs from the same sessions, which are featured as bonus tracks on the Japanese edition. For a band whose unique appeal is mostly attributed to Florence Shaw’s surreal lyrics and deadpan delivery, it’s heartening to hear further evidence that it’s the complete cocktail of musical ingredients — Shaw plus Tom Dowse’s inventive guitar, Lewis Maynard’s satisfyingly thick bass, and Nick Buxton’s driving drums — that alchemizes into their winning sound. The verse guitar chords of “Bug Eggs” are naggingly similar to New Long Leg’s “More Big Birds,” while the instrumental chorus has a yearning feel akin to album highlight “Her Hippo.” Maynard’s bass tone on “Tony Speaks!” is absolutely filthy, swallowing up most of the mix until Dowse’s guitar bares its teeth in a swarm of squalling wah-wah, while Shaw’s lyrics muse upon the decline of heavy industry, the environment, and crisps.

Tim Clarke

Flight Mode — TX, ’98 (Sound As Language)

TX, '98 by Flight Mode

In 1998, well before he started Little Hands of Asphalt, Sjur Lyseid spent a year in Texas at the height of the emo wave, skateboarding and going to house shows and listening to the Get Up Kids. TX, ’98 is the Norwegian’s tribute to that coming of age experience, the giddy euphorias of mid-teenage freedom filtered through bittersweet subsequent experience. “Sixteen” is the banger, all crunchy, twitchy exhilarating guitars and vulnerable pop tunefulness, its clangor breaking for wistful reminiscence, but “Fossil Fuel” waxes lyrical, its guitar riffs splintering into radiant shards, its lyrics capturing those youthful years when anything seems possible and also, somehow, the later recognition that perhaps it isn’t. It’s an interesting tension between the now-is-everything hedonism of adolescence and the rueful remembering of adulthood, encapsulate in a chorus that goes, “Well wait and see if there’s no more history/and just defend the present tense.”

Jennifer Kelly

Drew Gardner— S-T (Eiderdown Records)

S/T by Drew Gardner

Drew Gardner has been popping up all over lately, on Elkhorn’s snowed in acoustic jam Storm Sessions and the electrified follow-up Sun Cycle and as one of Jeffrey Alexander’s Heavy Lidders. Here, it’s just him and his guitar plus a like-minded rhythm section (that’s Ryan Jewell on drums and Garcia Peoples’ Andy Cush on bass), spinning off dreamy, folk-into-interstellar-journeys like “Calyx” and “Kelp Highway.” Gardner puts some muscle into some of his grooves, running close to Chris Forsyth’s wide-angle electric boogie in “Bird Food.” “The Road to Eastern Garden,” though, is pure limpid transcendence, Buddhist monastery bells jangling as Gardner’s warm, inquiring melodic line intersects with rubbery bends on bass. Give this one a little time to sit, but don’t miss it.

Jennifer Kelly

Hearth — Melt (Clean Feed)

Melt by Hearth

This pan-European quartet’s name suggests domesticity, but the fact that none of its members lives in the country of their birth probably says more about the breadth of their music. The closest geographic point of reference for the sounds that pianist Kaja Draksler, trumpeter Susana Santos Silva, and saxophonists Ada Rave and Mette Rasmussen’s make together would be Chicago’s south side. Their dynamic blend of angular structures, extended instrumental techniques, and obscurely theatrical enactments brings to mind the Art Ensemble of Chicago, even though the sounds on this concert-length recording rarely echo the AEC’s. But it is similarly charged with mystery and collective identity.

Bill Meyer

Klaus Lang / Konus Quartett — Drei Allmenden (Cubus)

Drei Allmenden (translation: Three Commons) treats the act of commission as an opportunity to create common cause. For composer and keyboardist Klaus Lang, this is a chance to push back against a long trend of separation and stratification, with musicians bound to realize the composer’s whim, no matter the cost. Invoking works from the 16th century, he penned something simple, flexible and open to embellishment. Then he pitched in with Konus Quartett, a Swiss saxophone ensemble, to get the job done. The three-part piece, which lasts 43 sublime minutes, amply rewards the submersion of ego. Lang’s slowly morphing harmonium drones and Konus’ long reed tones sound like one instrument, enriched by tendrils of sound that rise up and then sink back into the music’s body.

Bill Meyer

Lynch, Moore, Riley — Secant / Tangent (dx/dy)

Secant | Tangent by Sue Lynch, N.O. Moore, Crystabel Riley

Electric guitarist N.O. Moore is barely known in these parts. I’ve only heard him on one album with Eddie Prévost a couple years back, and the other two musicians, not at all. But on the strength of this robust performance, which was recorded at London’s Icklectick venue, it would be a loss to keep it that way. They combine acoustic sounds with electronics, courtesy of guitar effects and amplification, in an exceedingly natural fashion. Each musician also gets into the other’s business in ways that correspond to the one spicy suggestion made by one cook that elevates another’s dish to the next level. Susan Lynch’s clarinet and flute compliment Moore’s radiophonic/feedback sounds like two flashes of lightning illuminating the same dark cloud, and her vigorously pecking saxophone attack mixes with Crystabel’s cascading beats like idiosyncratically tuned drums. This is one of the first albums to be released on Moore’s dx/dy label; keep your eye out for more.

Bill Meyer

Maco Sica / Hamid Drake Tatsu Aoki & Thymme Jones—Ourania (Feeding Tube)

OURANIA by Mako Sica / Hamid Drake featuring Tatsu Aoki & Thymme Jones

Ourania is named for the muse associated with astronomy in Greek mythology, and the album has an aim for the stars quality. In 2020, Chicago’s Mako Sica lost not only the chance to play concerts, but one third of its number. Core members Brent Fuscaldo (electric bass, voice, harmonica, percussion) and Przemyslaw Krys Drazek (electric trumpet, electric guitar, mandolin) could have just hunkered down with their respective TV sets. Instead, they booked themselves three other musicians who make rising above circumstances a core practice. The duo convened at Electrical Audio with Hamid Drake (drums, percussion, Tatsu Aoki (upright bass, shamisen), and Thymme Jones (piano, organ, balloon, trumpet, voice, recorder, percussion), rolled tape for a couple hours, and walked out with this album. The 85 minute-long recording (edited to about half that length on vinyl, but the LP comes with a download card) exudes a vibe of calm, even beatitude, with twin trumpets and Fuscaldo’s echo-laden, nearly word-free vocals weaving though a sequence of patient grooves like migrational birds on the glide.

Bill Meyer

Mar Caribe — Hymn of the Mar Caribe (Mar Caribe)

Hymn of the Mar Caribe b/w Rondo for Unemployment by mar caribe

Some musicians burn to make something new; others generate attention-getting sounds designed to maximize the potential of their other earning activities; and others, well, they just want you to sway along with their version of the good sounds. Mar Caribe falls into that last category. This Chicago-based instrumental ensemble has spent most of the last decade maintaining a robust performance schedule, and it would seem that recording is pretty much an afterthought; a photo of the test pressing for this 7” was posted in May 2019, but the release show didn’t happen until August 2021. Sure, COVID can be blamed for part of the delay, but one suspects that mostly, these guys just want to play, and they didn’t bother to stuff the singles in the sleeves until they knew when they’d next be leaning over a merch table. The titular suspends anthemic brass and pedal steel over a swinging double bass cadence, and if there was a moment during the night when the band invited the audience to pledge allegiance to their favorite drink, this is what they’d be playing while they asked. Guitars lead on the flip side, whose busy twists and turns belie the implied laziness of the title, “Rondo For Unemployment.”

Bill Meyer

Mint Julep — In a Deep and Dreamless Sleep (Western Vinyl)

In A Deep And Dreamless Sleep by Mint Julep

These songs traverse a hazy, dreamlike space, diffusing dance beats, dream-y vocals and synth pulses into inchoate sensation that nonetheless retains enough rhythmic propulsion to keep your heart rate up. “A Rising Sun” filters jangly guitar and bass through a sizzle of static, letting tambourine thump gently somewhere off camera, as voices soothe and reassure. “Mirage” pounds a four-on-the-floor, but quietly, angelically, like a disco visited through astral projection or maybe a really rave-y iteration of heaven. There’s an ominous undercurrent to “Longshore Drift,” in its growly, sub-bass-y hum, but glittering bits of synth sprinkle over like fairy dust. This is indefinitely gorgeous stuff, ethereal but surprisingly energizing. Dance or drift, take your pick.

Jennifer Kelly

Monocot — Directions We Know (Feeding Tube)

Direction We Know by Monocot

Directions We Know is an LP of free-form freak-outs generated by an instrumental duo that includes one musician who you might expect to perpetuate such a ruckus, and one that you might not. The more likely character is drummer Jayson Gerycz, who may be known for keeping time with the Cloud Nothings, but has shown a willingness to wax colorizing in the company of Anthony Pasquarosa, Jen Powers and Matthew Rolin. The happy surprise is Rosali Middleman, whose singer-songwriter efforts have kept her guitar playing firmly in service of her songs. She doesn’t exactly abandon lyricism in Monocot, but the tunes serve as launching ramps for exuberant lunges into the realm of voltage-saturated sound. On “Ruby Throated,” the first of the record’s four extended jams, Middleman lofts rippling peals over a near-boil of  drums and churning loops. By the time you get to “Multidimensional Solutions,” the last and longest track, her wah-wah-dipped streams of sound have taken on a blackened quality, as though her overheating tubes have burned every note.

Bill Meyer

Obits — Die at the Zoo (Outer Battery)

Die At The Zoo by Obits

Few aughts rock bands held more promise than Obits. The four-piece headed by Hot Snakes’ Rick Froberg and Edsel’s Sohrab Habibion emerged in 2005 with a stinging, stripped-back, blues-touched sound. Froberg’s feral snarl rode a surfy, twitchy amplified onslaught, that was, by 2012 a finely tuned machine. I caught one of the live shows following Moody, Standard and Poor at small club in Northampton the same year this was recorded (so small that I was sitting on a couch next to Froberg, oblivious, for 20 minutes before the show), and what struck me was how well the band played together. The records sound chaotic, and that was certainly there in performance, but the cuts and stops were perfect, the surfy instrumental breaks (“New August”) absolutely in tune. At the time this set was recorded in the Brisbane punk landmark known as the Zoo, the band was near the peak of its considerable powers—and regrettably near the end of its run. Die at the Zoo is reasonably well recorded, rough enough to capture the band’s raucous energy, skilled enough so you can understand the words and hear all the parts. It hits all the highlights, blistering early cuts like “Widow of My Dreams,” and “Pine On,” the blues cover “Milk Cow Blues,” and later, slightly more melodic ragers like “Everything Looks Better in the Morning” and “You Gotta Lose.” The guitar work is particularly sharp throughout, its straight-on chug breaking into fiery blues licks and surfy whammy explosions. It’s a poignant reminder of a time when American rock bands played ferocious shows halfway across the world (or anywhere) as a matter of course and a fitting eulogy for Obits.

Jennifer Kelly

A Place To Bury Strangers — Hologram (Dedstrange)

Hologram EP by A Place To Bury Strangers

A Place To Bury Strangers returns with a new rhythm section and renewed focus on the elements that made its version of revivalism the loudest if not brashest of the New York aughties. Sarah and John Fedowitz on drums and bass join Oliver Ackerman on the five track EP Hologram which is the most concise and vital APTBS release for a while. For all the criticism of copyism thrown at the band since their early days, APTBS has always been as much about Ackerman’s production skills and feel for texture as musical originality and the songs on Hologram sound fantastic at volume. Beneath the sonic onslaught of fuzz and reverb, not a brick is misplaced in this intricately constructed sonic wall. True “I Might Have” is pure Jesus & Mary Chain and “In My Hive” a Wax Trax take on Spector but Hologram is an endorphin rush of guitar driven noise bound to make one forget the world, if only for a while.

Andrew Forell

Praises — EP4 (Hand Drawn Dracula)

Jesse Crowe’s work as Praises has been ongoing since 2014, but has shifted in tone, instrumentation and emphasis since then. While the first two EPs have more of a full, rock band feel, the third one and 2018’s full-length In This Year: Ten of Swords took things in a more electronic, sometimes industrial direction. It was an even better fit for the rest, probing creativity evident in Praises’ work, and 3/4s of the new EP4 are in a pleasingly similar vein. The echoing, ringing denunciations of “We Let Go” and “A World on Fire” are fine examples of Praises’ existing strengths, but the opening “Apples for My Love” is immediately captivating in a very different way. Gauzy and rapturous, it’s a reverie that keeps the satisfying textural detail of the other songs but turns them to different ends. It’s not something that was missing from Crowe’s work before — again, the other tracks here are also very good — but a reminder that what Praises has shown before is not the extent of what they can do.

Ian Mathers

The Sundae Painters — The First SP Single (Leather Jacket)

“This is a supergroup, is it not?” someone asked the Sundae Painters bassist Paul Kean on social media last year, to which he responded, “Some may choose that title. We prefer superglue.” Kaye Woodward, his wife and longtime bandmate in both The Bats and Minisnap, takes the lead vocal on “Thin Air,” one of the pair of A-sides found on their new band’s debut seven-inch. From the outset, Kean’s unmistakable bass playing and Hamish Kilgour’s (The Clean/Mad Scene) drumming lock into a psychedelic march, with the other instruments weaving like kites above, vying for position on the same breeze. “You fight your way down/You fight your way up/You wait for the dust to settle,” Woodward sings. A few gentle strums cut their way through the parade, and a guitar calls out gull-like from above, before everything trails off as if something potent has just kicked in. On the flip side, “Aversion” has an old friend-like familiarity to it, soundwise (if not lengthwise) sitting somewhere between VU’s “The Gift” and “Sister Ray.” Things begin a little stand-offish, though, like you’ve interrupted a guitar pontificating to a rapt audience — it turns its head to look you over, falling momentarily silent, before picking right back up where it left off. Kilgour’s spoken vocals join the conversation, as the song builds towards a groovy kind of fever pitch. “You look a little stoned,” he says, before responding to his own observation. “Well me I’m a little bit groggy/But it ain’t too foggy/I can see some way of getting out of here.” By this point, both guitars (played by Woodward and Tall Dwarfs’ Alec Bathgate) are full-on screeching and howling, and as the song sputters to a sudden finish, our man’s left waiting for someone to buy him “a ride out the gate.”

Chris Liberato    

Thou — Hightower (Self-released)

Hightower by Thou

Hightower is the latest in a string of digital compilations from Thou, most of which collect songs that have been previously released on small-batch splits, 7” records and other hyper-obscure media that briefly circulated through the metal underground. You might be tempted to pronounce that a cynical cash-grab, but Thou has posted Hightower (along with previous compilations, like Algiers, Oakland and Blessings of the Highest Order, a killer collection of Nirvana covers) on their official Bandcamp page as a name-yo’-price download. Thanks, band. Beyond convenience, Hightower has an additional, if a sort of inside-baseball, attraction. The band has re-recorded a few of its older songs with its latest, three-guitar line-up. Longtime listeners will recognize “Smoke Pigs” and “Fucking Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean,” which already sounded terrifyingly massive back in 2008 and 2007, respectively. The expanded instrumentation, new arrangements and better production give the songs even more power and depth, all the way down to the bottom of the effing ocean. Yikes. And there are a few additional touches, like K.C. Stafford’s clean vocals on “Fucking Chained…,” which provide an effective complement to Bryan Funck’s inimitably scabrous howl. Rarely has being pummeled and feeling bummed out been so vivifying.

Jonathan Shaw

Tropical Fuck Storm — Deep States (Joyful Noise)

Deep States by Tropical Fuck Storm

Fueled by exasperation as much as anger, the new album by Melbourne’s Tropical Fuck Storm rounds on the myriad ways in which the world has become a “Bumma Sanger” as leader Gareth Liddiard puts it on the eponymous song about COVID lockdown. A roiling meld of psychedelic garage garnished with elements of hip hop and electronic noise it’s close in method and mood if not sound to another Australian provocateur JG Thirwell whose Foetus project girded maximalist surfaces with rigid discipline. If the Tropical Fuck Storm sought to mirror current conditions, they succeed but lack of clarity in both production and intent makes Deep States a frustrating experience. Backing vocals from Fiona Kitschin (bass), Erica Dunn (keys and guitar) and Lauren Hammel (drums) leaven Liddiard’s blokey pronouncements and there are some good sounds and biting words but the band’s determination to overelaborate and underdevelop musical ideas makes this album seem like a lost opportunity.

Andrew Forell

Marta Warelis / Carlos “Zingaro” / Helena Espvall /Marcelo dos Reis — Turquoise Dream (JACC)

Turquoise Dream by Marta Warelis, Carlos "Zíngaro", Helena Espvall, Marcelo dos Reis

Turquoise Dream documents an example of an encounter that is a mainstay of avant-garde jazz festivals, in which out of towners mix it up locals that they may or may not know. This particular concert, which took place at the Jazz ao Centro Festival in 2019, is one such encounter that deserves to live past the night when it transpired. It featured three stringed instrument players who live in Portugal and a Polish pianist who is based in Holland. But they don’t sound like strangers at all. Violinist Zingaro, cellist Espvall, and guitarist dos Reis blend like flashes of sunlight reflecting off of waves, adding up to a sound that is bright and ever-changing. Warelis, who is equally resourceful with her head under the lid of her piano as she is at the keyboard, adding fleet but substantial responses to her hosts’ quicksilver interactions. The result is music that is resolutely abstract but closely engaged.

Bill Meyer

Wharflurch — Psychedelic Realms ov Hell (Gurgling Gore)

PSYCHEDELIC REALMS OV HELL by Wharflurch

Wharflurch is just plain fun to say — but there are at least two ways in which the name also makes sense for the band that has chosen it: it has a bilious, nauseous quality that matches the vibe of the pustulent death metal you’ll hear on Psychedelic Realms ov Hell; and if you separate the words, you can conjure a sodden, rotten wooden structure, swaying vertiginously over a marshy expanse of water, which is filled with alligators and decaying organic material. Imagine that sway, and that stink, and then imagine yourself collapsing into the viscous fluid, soon to be gator chow. Sounds like Florida, and that’s exactly from whence Wharflurch has emerged. Which also makes sense. Is Wharflurch’s music “psychedelic”? Depends on what you hear in that word. If you want to see hippies dancing ecstatically on a verdant, sun-drenched stretch of Golden Gate Park, then no. But if you have spent any time in the warped, dementedly distorted spaces that psychedelics can open (less happily perhaps, but very powerfully), then yes. Wharflurch likes to accent its meaty riffs and muscular thumps with weird flutters and electronic effects that frequently have a gastric, flatulent quality to them. The saturated and sickly pinks and greens on the album art do a pretty good job of capturing the music’s tones. So do the song titles: “Stoned Ape Apocalypse,” “Bog Body Boletus,” “Phantasmagorical Fumes.” Still game? I’m sorry. But I’ll also be standing right there next to you, on that wobbly, lurching wharf, watching the gators swim near.

Jonathan Shaw

Whisper Room — Lunokhod (Midira Records)

Lunokhod by Whisper Room

That the title of Whisper Room’s fifth album is taken from Soviet lunar rovers makes a certain sense, given how potentially frustrating it might have been for the trio to be working at such a distance. Generally their other records are recorded live, in one room, seeing Aidan Baker (guitar), Jakob Thiesen (drums) and Neil Wiernik (bass) exploring simultaneously, hitting whatever junctions of psychedelic/shoegazing/motorik sound come to them. With Baker in Berlin and travel understandably limiited, this time they recorded their parts separately, layering them together (and bringing in sound designer Scott Deathe to add the kind of pedal processing their sound engineer normally does live). The result certainly sounds as collaborative as ever, seven seamless tracks making up nearly an hour that makes the journey from the friendly, clattering percussion of “Lunokhod01” to the centrifugal ambience of “Lunokhod07” feel perfectly natural. Even though it explores just as much inner and outer space as Whisper Room ever have, there’s something very approachable about Lunokhod that makes it one of their best.

Ian Mathers