#especially layered over electric guitar.

[transmechanicus]

If i had thought projecting telepathy i would never use my voice and would instead mentally project it with a 1950's radio mic effect

[goblinontour]

Weekend Rockstars

alex finds himself in a new situation after a show on their first tour

warnings: smut, masturbation, glory hole, handjob, blowjob

word count: 2.8k

Berlin was cold. Cold, cold, cold. He’s been so fucking cold all day. The band had a show tonight, but they got there early to set up and everything. Alex felt bad for the few people that were lining up outside because he was still cold even inside the venue. He didn’t even want to think about going out. 

He didn’t know if it had to do with his nerves too or what, but he couldn’t stop shivering. It was so bad that their manager asked him if he was okay. Was he? Yeah…Yeah, he was. It was only their first gig ever in Germany. No big deal. 

Nope. Who was he kidding, he was freaking out. He always got nervous before shows but especially in different countries where he couldn’t even understand what people were saying. He did pick up a bit of German from his mum, but it proved to be completely useless. He still didn’t understand shit.

“Mate, you alright?” Matt asked, concern lacing his voice as he looked for his drumsticks. 

“Yeah, just freezing my arse off.” Alex replied, trying to laugh it off, but it came out shaky.

“He'll be fine once we get up there." Jamie chimed in, adjusting his guitar strap. "You know he always gets like this before a big show.”

Nick walked over, offering him a bottle of beer. “Drink this. It'll warm you up. And stop worrying, the crowd’s here to see us.” 

Alex took the drink, grateful for the gesture, but it did little to calm his nerves. He glanced out from the wings, the crowd already buzzing with anticipation. So many people. He still hadn’t gotten used to it.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The stage lights flickered on, casting an eerie glow over the instruments. The noise from the crowd grew louder, crashing against the walls of the venue.

“Showtime, boys.” their manager called, giving them a thumbs-up.

As Alex stepped on stage, the cold seemed to dissipate, replaced by a different kind of feeling. It was as if a switch had been turned on in his body, making him sweat and feel like he was burning. The roar of the crowd hit him and he felt like he was drowning. God, stop it Alex, you’re so dramatic, he thought to himself. 

He grabbed the mic, looking out at the sea of faces. “Hello, Berlin!” he shouted, his voice surprisingly steady despite all his nervousness. The crowd erupted. 

The first chords of the song rang out, and the energy was electric. Alex could feel the connection between him and the audience, a pulsing thread between them. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand their language anymore. 

As they launched into the next song, Alex caught sight of a girl in the front row. She mouthed the words along with him. But this girl wasn’t just any fan. He’d seen her before, many times. She wasn’t even close to just a stranger in the crowd. She'd been following them around on tour for a few weeks now, appearing in the front row at almost every show. She seemed to like him, always making sure to catch his eye during the performances, and he liked her too. Maybe it was the allure of him being in a band for her, but he didn’t mind that as long as he knew he had someone he could have a little fun with after the shows. And fun she was.

Their ‘thing’ had started innocently enough, a few stolen glances during the first show she attended, a brief chat afterward. But it escalated. They’d hook up in the bathrooms of random bars they went to, or just backstage, anywhere really. He didn’t care. He was a rockstar! After tonight's show, he knew they’d find each other again. It was becoming a routine. The anticipation of the encounters they’d have added a new layer of excitement to each performance. 

Between songs, Alex found himself speaking to the crowd more than usual. He even made a few awkward attempts at German, which the audience thankfully seemed to appreciate. Each time he stumbled over a word, the crowd laughed and cheered, so he didn’t get that embarrassed about it. By the time they reached the encore, Alex was drenched in sweat, his earlier chill a distant memory. Long forgotten. 

As the cheers echoed in his ears, they took their bows, and Alex stepped off the stage, his heart still pounding. The rest of the band clapped him on the back, their smiles wide and genuine. 

“Told you it’d be alright.” Jamie said, grinning.

Alex laughed, a genuine, relieved laugh. “Yeah, you did.”

But the moment he was out of the spotlight, his thoughts shifted to her. Would she be waiting by the backstage door like she always did? Fuck, I need to fuck something. 

The answer came quickly. As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway backstage, he saw her, leaning casually against the wall, a sly smile on her lips. 

“Great show.” she said, her voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

“Thanks.” he replied, taking her hand and pulling her closer to smack his lips onto hers. 

They didn’t waste time. They could easily escape from the rest of the crew since they were all busy on that post-gig high. They found a secluded spot, a small storage room that offered just enough privacy. It was frantic. Urgent. Seizing every opportunity without a second thought.

Their mouths collided, tongues tangling as Alex’s hands roamed over her body. He grabbed her boobs, squeezing them through her shirt, his touch rough and impatient. Messy was the best way to describe it. He had a lot of energy and he liked to put it to good use. He didn’t need much time, he didn’t need it to last, he just wanted her. Now. 

He pressed her against the wall, his breath hot against her neck as he moved his lips down to her collarbone, nipping and sucking. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her hips as he ground against her, the friction so delicious. 

In one quick motion, he unbuttoned his jeans, the fabric sliding down just enough. He grabbed her hand, guiding it to his erection over his boxers, making her palm him. She squeezed gently, her touch making him groan with need.

“Fuck.” he muttered. 

But of course, one of the guys had to shout at him from outside, breaking the moment. “Alex, we gotta go!”

He swore under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. “Fuck.” he whispered, looking at her with frustration in his eyes. “You coming with us?”

She shook her head, a regretful smile playing on her lips. “I can’t tonight.”

“Oh come onnn.” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, hoping to change her mind.

She laughed softly, cupping his face in her hands. “I really can’t.”

“Fine.” he sighed, fixing his pants back up, the urgency of the moment dissipating. He leaned in for one last kiss, his lips lingering on hers. “Next time, then. You’re coming to the next show, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. “Won’t miss it.”

With a final kiss, because he couldn’t get enough, he stepped out of the storage room, irritation still bubbling inside him. Only to see the culprit who had interrupted him by the door. Matt. Tapping his drumsticks against his thigh impatiently. Alex gave him a death stare, his frustration evident.

“Sorry, mate, but we really do have to go.” Matt said, looking somewhat apologetic but mostly amused.

Alex zipped up his jacket and adjusted it the best he could to cover up his hard-on, trying to make it at least a bit less obvious. He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down as he followed Matt towards the exit.

The rest of the band was already gathered, the post-show rush of activity swirling around them. Alex joined them, trying to focus on the conversation they were having and not on the lingering heat left in his body. 

The venue was closing, and despite the decent crowd they’d gathered, they still had to follow the rules. They packed up their gear and made their way to a nearby bar, the cold Berlin night pushing them inside where the warmth and drinks awaited.

Inside, they ordered rounds, and Alex drank until the edges of his mind blurred and the chill in his bones was replaced by a comfortable fuzziness. 

Jamie returned from his trip to the bathrooms, a mischievous glint in his eye. He nudged Alex out of nowhere, causing him to nearly spill his drink.

“Al, you have to go in there.” he said, quite insistently. 

“Why?” Alex asked, confused and still a bit irritated.

“Just go, please.”

Alex was drunk enough to not think about it more. He shrugged, set down his drink, and made his way to the bathrooms, unaware of Jamie’s barely concealed laughter behind him  as he rejoined the others.

Inside, he decided he might as well pee since he was there. He stumbled into a stall, fumbling with the latch. As he relieved himself, he realised he was still a bit hard from earlier, the alcohol breaking all his inhibitions.

Without much thought, he started touching himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his dick and gliding it up and down. The sensations were heightened by his inebriation, and he found himself getting lost in the moment. He didn’t even realise he was making noise, his low groans echoing off the tile walls, unsuspected. 

Then, out of nowhere, he saw a hand pop out from a hole in the side of the stall. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“What the fuck?” he thought out loud, panic rising in his chest.

“Do you need any help?” a voice asked. Her voice sounded nice, but it only made him freak out more. What. The. Fuck.

He tucked himself back into his jeans hastily, his heart pounding as he practically ran out of the stall. He burst out of the bathroom and made his way back to the guys, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual arousal.

“Why the fuck did you send me in there?!” he demanded, glaring at Jamie.

Jamie laughed, exchanging amused looks with the others. “So you could get your fix since we ruined your moment with that girl you keep bringing around. Go back in there, punk.”

“I’m not going in there.” Alex said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Nick chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s weird!” Alex tried to defend himself, but his voice wavered, the memory of the hand and the voice still fresh in his mind. She really had a nice voice. 

“Well, we’re not gonna help you.” Jamie said, smirking.

“Yeah, Al, just go.” Matt added, grinning.

And then the others started chanting “Go. Go. Go.” in unison, their voices growing louder and more insistent.

“Shut up.” Alex said, but they wouldn’t. They continued, their voices echoing in his head, the alcohol making it harder to ignore.

Finally, with a frustrated growl, he took himself out of the situation and stormed back to the bathroom. Whatever. He was too drunk to care anymore.

As he entered the bathroom, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He glanced at the stall where the hand had appeared, a mix of curiosity and nervousness filling him. With a resigned sigh, he approached it, his heart beating faster with each step.

Alex knocked on the side of the thin wall of the stall. His voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “You still there?”

He hesitated, afraid to look over and see. He’d heard about this stuff before, but he never thought he’d find himself doing it. Was he supposed to even talk, or...?

The silence stretched out, making his heart pound even louder in his ears. He didn’t get an answer, not a spoken one anyway. But then he saw that same hand peek through to his side of the stall.

Alex swallowed hard, his mind racing. He could feel the alcohol buzzing in his system, clouding his judgement and amplifying his curiosity. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the hand, his fingers brushing against the stranger’s skin. It felt surreal, like he was caught in a dream he couldn’t wake from. The hand didn’t pull away, but instead, her fingers curled slightly, as if inviting him to take hold.

He hesitated for a moment longer before gripping the hand gently. It squeezed back, and he felt a strange excitement wash over him. This was happening. Whatever this was.

With his other hand, he fumbled with his jeans, the fabric rustling in the quiet of the bathroom. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but the need for release, amplified by the alcohol and the earlier interruption, was too strong to ignore.

The hand on the other side moved, fingers tracing a path along his wrist, guiding him with an unspoken understanding. His breath hitched as he followed the lead, his body reacting instinctively.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out everything but the sensation. The hand moved rhythmically over his length. He could hear his own breathing, ragged and uneven, mingling with the soft sounds of the person’s movements on the other side. 

He didn’t think anymore. He positioned himself properly and guided his dick through the hole, immediately feeling the stranger’s hand wrap back around him, getting a better grip now. 

“Oh fuck.” He bit his lip to stop himself from making any more noise.

And then he felt the familiar wetness and that warm feeling. She took him in her mouth. And he almost crumbled. He didn’t even know why the fuck he felt so affected, but the whole situation fucked with his head. Not knowing who was on the other side. And not even caring. Just feeling the pleasure. Feeling everything he could want right now.

He pressed himself as close to the stall wall as possible, the rough surface rubbing against his skin as he moved his hips, unable to keep himself still. His belt buckle clanged against the partition with each thrust, the sound echoing in the small space. He was losing himself in the sensation, the pressure building rapidly inside him.

He stretched his arms above his head, his fingers barely reaching the top of the partition, but he just needed to hold onto something, anything. His hands gripped the edge tightly, knuckles turning white as he gave himself over to her rhythm. 

His hips bucked uncontrollably. He was completely at the mercy of the stranger on the other side, her mouth working him with a skill that left him breathless. This was probably the best blowjob he’d ever got. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps, his entire world narrowing down to the sensations, to the intoxicating heat enveloping him.

The orgasm hit him hard and fast, his body tensing as he let out a strangled groan. He felt himself release and how she was swallowing around him. It left him weak and trembling, slumped against the wall.

For a moment, he just stood there, trying to catch his breath. The reality of the situation started to sink in. He withdrew himself, quickly tucking his spent cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling a sudden confusion envelop him. 

He could hear her moving on the other side of the stall, the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of footsteps on the tiled floor. Then the sink ran for a bit, the sound of water hitting porcelain loud in his ears. She was washing up, and he felt a strange pang of regret, thinking that maybe he should say something. But what was there to say? The water stopped, and the creak of the bathroom door opening and closing meant she was gone. 

Alex took another deep breath, trying to steady himself. He stumbled out of the stall, his legs feeling unsteady. He splashed some water on his face at the sink, the cold liquid shocking him back to a slightly clearer state of mind. He looked at himself in the mirror for a second. He needed to get out of there before he overthought everything.

a/n: i wrote this in third person, not with “you” cause i felt like it fit better. also i did little to no research regarding how glory holes actually work so i don’t care if it isn’t accurate. and idk why i chose to set it in berlin but they actuallt had their first show in germany there in november 2005 so it fits perfectly. title is from fake tales of san francisco and it’s quite funny how it’s followed up by “are in the toilets” 💀

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hey boo, love your writing so much

Was wondering if I could request a billie fic.

So I was thinking that this takes place on the HMHAS tour where reader is the guitarist in the band. Reader is mascfem and clearly works out. Billie flirts with reader a lot and on stage Billie and the guitarist kinda do a thing like Renee and Towa when they play tummy hurts. The fans can see the tension too and after a couple shows they kinda have a lil steamy moment after the show then get in a relationship but decide to keep it private but the fans keep speculating as Billie and reader keep getting closer on stage. You can choose how it ends and other details but that’s the premise.

It’s fully up to you if you want to write it of course ☺️ also I saw you talk about picking an emoji was thinking I could be 🎸if that’s cool with you

Baby, I Think you were Made for Me

|| Billie Eilish x masc!fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, small smut scene, slightly oblivious reader, Billie teasing reader

|| Summary; Billie can't seem to stop flirting with reader on stage and takes these feelings off stage with her..

Requests open!

Started; october 20th

Finished; october 20th

Reblogs, comments and likes all really help and are very much appreciated! Thank you if you do🫶

~~~

The stage was electric with energy. Billie singing up at the front with you and the rest of the band near the back, as Billie sang 'Lunch' she kept stealing glances at you with a smirk. You knew what she was doing, especially when she winked at you after singing "I could eat that girl for lunch". You'd nearly fumbled up your chords which Billie noticed. She really tried to not laugh. This was pretty normal for the two of you. There's always been a tension, even the fans had noticed it. And you'd always wondered if it would become more.

It's now been a few shows into the tour, Billie had called you up to the front of the stage to play by her side. It was 'Lunch' again, which seemed to be the song she flirted with you in the most. As she sang, she gestured for you to kneel in front of her. You easily obeyed. Getting down to your knees while you held your guitar; strumming away. She looked down at you with that usual smirk of hers, her hand coming to brush just under your chin. Bending herself down a little closer. The only thing separating you was the mic that touched both your lips. The fans were going insane.

"Baby, I think you were made for me.. somebody write down the recipe." Her voice hit those lower notes, the words she was saying... everything was making your head spin and you fought hard not to kiss her then and there. You didn't even know if she would let you. How you managed to keep eye contact and play you didn't know. She was driving you insane, hitting all the right buttons.

After the show was over and everything that needed to be done was dealt with, Billie found you and practically dragged you to her dressing room. She pinned you up against the door and you gasped out in response," Billie-"

"Shut up and kiss me already." She murmured against your lips and that was all the invitation you needed. You'd kissed her, lips moving against hers as you picked her up. Her legs wrapped around your waist and you'd held her with ease. Billie's tongue slipped past your lips and you parted slightly to give her better access. Your tongues dancing with each other as she moved her hips along you. You moaned into the kiss, adjusting your hold on her and giving her ass a firm squeeze. Making Billie moan. The vibrations from the moan sent shockwaves into your body. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold back now even if you'd wanted to. And neither could Billie.

When the two of you were done, she had curled up in your lap on the chair. Both down a layer of clothing and trying to catch your breathes.

"Fuck..." You murmured.

"Mhm." Billie agreed, looking into your eyes with a grin." Good 'fuck' though, right?"

"Definitely. You have no idea how long I'd wanted that." You told her, taking a couple of breaths between your words.

Her grin became a smirk as she cupped your cheek, giving you another small kiss," oh I can guess. I've been dropping hints for months."

"I thought it was all stage performance stuff." You blushed in embarrassment and she laughed at that. Which made you even more embarrassed.

"You're cute. But I was flirting with you off stage too, idiot." She teased and your blush deepened. Wow you seriously hadn't noticed that.

"So... are we a thing now?" You asked, Billie pretended to think on it. Already knowing her answer.

"Do you want to be?" Billie asked and you nodded. She smiled," then yeah." Her hands came up to grip your bra straps, making your breath hitch as she brought you even closer." now kiss me again."

Safe to say neither of you really slept that night.

The following shows, fans noticed just how much more the tension had grown between you and Billie. No words needed to said between either of you. People knew you were dating. And the stage kiss on the very last show of the tour only confirmed the speculations.

[neoplatinum]

can't remember to forget you - shakira | son chaeyoung

summary: is this love behind closed doors enough

pairing: guitarist!chaeyoung x fem!reader

themes: highschool au, weed, cigarettes, angst, fluff, music festival, rest of twice!, minor 2yeon, jooyeon and o.de from xdinary heroes

wc: 4.0k

a/n: FOR MY POOKIE WOOKIE CHAE'S POOKUMS (@nr1chaedickrider)

“do you know why she always carries that guitar?” momo’s watching chaeyoung walk across the field. that familiar brown guitar case strapped to the back of the girl’s back. like an attachment to her body. quick paces as she crosses the lawn with fishnets and platform boots on, layers of necklaces bouncing along in time with her steps. 

that signature dark lipstick. 

damn, she does look good. 

you look away from her, trying your best to concentrate since the start of lunch.

“she told me it’s her soulmate.” sana says back, digging into her jacket for a sweet candy, continuing to watch as chaeyoung crosses the field towards the other end of the school. popping a small chocolate in her mouth. “don’t know what that means.”

then sana looks down at you. 

“hey you’re friends with her right?”

you’ve been gripping your homework since momo spoke of her name. taking everything in you to stay still and not watch as your not-girlfriend walks past where you sat. and she knows exactly where you sit everyday for lunch, she knows this exact route like the back of her hand. but still she chooses to walk past it, she used to stop and wave to you discreetly before leaving. instead she’s plugged into her headphones and walking right into the building. 

“yeah, chaeyoung.” you just respond, trying to read the biology homework in front of you. terms turning into characters when you try to re-read the same question. but you can’t focus when your not-girlfriend has been ignoring you lately.

“right, that’s her name!” momo exclaims. then sana and her are back to bickering like siblings, all the while you’re trying to read this question again.

the cell cycle?

sana and momo, god knows why, have managed to flip themselves onto the grass and have their hand in each other’s hair pulling at it. legs and arms all over the place like they’re stuck to each other. you watch them briefly, trying to scratch each other’s faces. without missing a beat you turn back to your paper.

trying to refocus on the homework. anaphase…anaphase?

writing a few more lines across the page and munching on momo’s apple slices. you find yourself thinking about that stupid fight a week ago. you visited chaeyoung in her room, strumming her black guitar in her living room. weed filling the air as she tried different chords for her latest piece. one that she was discreet about.

you had visited her after she called you asking for a smoke sesh. and who are you to deny yourself the wonders of that green bud. 

more than anything, you love the haziness of watching her play her guitar. especially when she plays that electric one she keeps tucked away in her closet. the shine of that black and white electric over the body and her tattooed arms expertly bending notes. dark hair falling over her face, while she closes her eyes and just lets her hands play freely. 

hand flowing along the neck of the guitar, landing fingers in different, other hand holding a lit joint between her fingers. the smoke rising to the air. you feel your eyelids heavier as you lean backwards in the loveseat. 

watching the way the body is laid on her thigh, adjusting her playing every couple of seconds. sometimes playing the metal bar for some vibrato, the sounds ringing bending the sound through your ears. she knows how it sounds when she plays it, looking at you with a smirk as you take another hit. 

her eyes are low too, she always felt like her musicality shines when she’s not in her head. letting the playing speak for herself. coupled with the blue LED in her room, you think she’s gorgeous. a sight reserved for yourself. exactly why you are stuck here nearly every night, out of your own will of course. 

admiring the art that is son chaeyoung. even more of a treat you can listen to the art she produces. 

--

“you smoke?” you stuff your hand into your pocket, looking up suddenly. seeing chaeyoung hiding out behind the back of the school. after ditching class you were looking to just relax away from school, rounding out the back of the school. trying to jump the gate out back. and here stood in front of you was son chaeyoung. the last girl you would want to talk to her.

she keeps to herself in class, usually doodling or plugged into her earbuds. never speaking up, but you didn’t judge. here she is behind the school, flicking the ash off the end of her cig, earbuds in and a lock necklace dangling as she continues to stare at you. crouched down and phone in hand. her guitar case propped against the brick wall. 

she stares expectantly.

you don’t even know what to say, knowing her for barely a year and never speaking more than two words. she takes another puff, pushing her lips into a circle before aiming the smoke right into your face. 

immediately you step backwards, eyes stinging a bit from the cloud. the grittiness hitting your eyes, making you rub them and then you’re coughing a bit. the smoke hitting the back of your throat. chaeyoung laughs a little, staring up at you. you finally look at her again after wiping your eyes. 

“want to try?” she says pushing herself up, holding the cigarette out a bit. you stare at the lit bud, her painted nails, all black. and the way her hand is covered in silver rings. each one more intricate than the last. you nod lightly. looking back up at her.

her eyes are dazzling too, little browns under the sunlight. you completely forget what you said yes to. she brushes her hand through her hair, pushing it back. and then she pulls you towards her, hand around your neck, pulling you in like a magnet. other hand reaching towards herself, taking a breath in of the smoke. your eyes in a trance as the lit bud lights with orange and reds. then she takes it away.

her hand on your neck, snaking around to your chin, thumb pressed on your chin. until you drop your jaw. letting her move you like a puppeteer. eyes staring at your lips, blowing the smoke right into your mouth. letting that dark smell fill your mouth once more. the airiness of her breath makes your hair stand. 

woah.

then she pushes her thumb up, closing your breath once more.

“breathe it out.”

you let it flow out of you, that putrid smell making you scrunch your nose. she watches you amusingly, like a newborn deer taking its first steps. you barely know what you’re doing, it’s kind of cute.

then she returns that hand back to your neck, dragging you in for a kiss. one that makes your body freeze all over. your senses are all failing when all you can feel is her tender lips on your own. a hand pulling you in closely, and the smell of that awful cigarette between you two. she lets go of you, amusement still filling her face. 

you step back. she throws the case right over her shoulder and walks away from you, rounding the corner of the wall. you barely catch the sight of her guitar case when your body returns back to you. a curiosity building within you.

--

you’re trying your best to listen in, an ear pressed against the door. she’s always in this music room, room 202. every single lunch she’s here, using the school amp to play her music. you know this because you’re the only one she’s told you about this spot. made you swear to secrecy, if anyone else were to find out that she played here, it would ruin her charm as she says. 

like an obedient dog, you agreed. she doesn’t let you inside though, she never does. feeling so dumb for waiting outside like a kicked puppy, you’re ready to leave when you hear her singing. 

since when was she able to sing? 

a soft voice pulling at your heart, how you long to hear her voice again. standing outside with your hands stuffed into your pockets. listening to the girl in your heart vocalize through the confined walls.

you walk away from the room, tucking a cigarette between your lips as you walk outside.

--

some days are better than others, good days are when you can visit chaeyoung in her garage. watching her slide her hands across her favorite guitar. admiring the artwork draping the walls, like a cavern of her mind. a constant reminder of her artistic style and creativity. 

stepping into the garage you can already smell the weed that’s been circulating the air. taking a second to breathe in that familiar scent before closing the garage door right behind you. chaeyoung is sat on her favorite amp. littered in her own artwork and spray paint by the lovely artist herself. 

her head tilted down as she continued to play through different chords, each one prettier than the last. a pick between her lips as she concentrates on nailing the next measure. she’s beautiful like this, her favorite bunny tucked right at the base of the amplifier. 

tossing the backpack onto her worn couch, you plop right in front of her. watching the way her nail polish shines in the lowlight of an old studio light. she gives you a small nod as she continues to play. eyes never leaving yours, even as her hands move quickly along the guitar. 

you grab the joint that’s been lying next to her, taking a deep hit as she watches you. red across the whites in her eyes.

you lean back, letting the smoke go up, watching the cloud in the air as she continues to play. until she stops. setting the guitar down on her stand. and grabbing your hand, pulling you up.

“i missed you.” she explains, grabbing ahold of your neck, pulling you against her. 

you let your body fall against hers, laying your head against her shoulders. her arms moving to wrap around your. both of you slowly rocking in her garage.

“i missed you too chaeyoung.” you reply softly. letting the weight of today off your body. and she continues to sway you in her arms. it’s warm, her hugs are always so warm. and today more than anything you need her near. 

“tell me about your day.” she says softly, letting you continue to lean against her.

“it was tiring, you know how work usually is.” you explain, pulling her against you as you wrap your arms around hers too. “oh you missed it, jeongyeon confessed to nayeon today.” 

you stand back up, and chaeyoung stares at you, nodding slowly as she sits into the couch. grabbing her favorite strawberry glass cup as she drinks it.

“good for them.” she says, placing the cup back onto the coffee table. you watch the way she stares at her guitar. reddish eyes that don’t look at yours.

sitting down next to her she barely lifts an inch to look at you. busy grabbing her music papers off the ground. stuffing them into her folder as she leans back. and you do the same. letting your eyes watch the ceiling fan. a constant rotating, almost like it’s stuck in a loop. and really you can feel yourself feeling the same. 

the way that all you can do is wave at chaeyoung at school. restricted to the confines of these four walls to showcase your affection to your girlfriend. a reminder that the relationship that you two have only exists in this small space.

“chaeyoung, i want to be official.” you say gently, head turned to the side as you watch her side profile. 

“baby, we are official.” she says, taking a hit from her joint. 

“not to other people we aren’t.” you say, looking at her folded hands and the light thumping of her foot. “you won’t hold my hand in public, you won’t kiss me in public. why’s that?”

chaeyoung stares at you, eyes more opened as she watches you.

“why won’t you let my friends know about us?” you say with a bite. watching the way she continues to stare at you. lost in her own thoughts to offer up a response.

“i thought what we had here is okay.”

“i want more chaeyoung, you knew this.” 

you explain, watching the slight twitch in her eyebrows. 

the fiddling of her hands on her shirt. 

“i don’t know.” you hear, and just like that you grab your backpack, tossing it over your shoulder as you exit the garage. 

ignoring the pain in your chest as chaeyoung doesn’t bother to call out to you.

--

jeongyeon and nayeon are bickering like idiots in front of you. trying to step on each other’s calves to make each other fold over. you want to join in with them but lately, the fight with chaeyoung (if you can even call it that) has taken over your mind. instead you stand quietly next to mina. both of you watching the two girls, your arms folded over each other as you both walk in line for the music festival.

a little buzzing throughout your body.

the line continues to move forward and you can hear the distant music in the background. the loud chatter of everyone in line along with people lining the fields distracting you from the loneliness that’s been erupting in your heart. 

drowning out the sounds like a muffled speaker, until your feet reach the front of the line. a fellow classmate staring at your student ID expectantly. a scanner in their hand, and you show it to them. taking a second to look at the enclosed festival space. with a quick scan, you move forward into the area. a large open field crowded with excited students buzzing at the talents that will be showcasing their skills on stage tonight.

the heat beating on your skin, a light layer of sweat setting. the smell of grilled foods enticing the senses of jeongyeon and nayeon. them waving you and mina as they stumble away to the food stands.

mina’s pulling you through the crowd, slotting you two in a small open space. eyes forwards towards the stage. the sight of the fellow classmates on stage, pushing and placing microphones around the stage. long metal pipes laid around the giant black stage, light strobes hung along the top facing the performers. 

you keep picking at your skin, quickly grabbing a cigarette to slot between your lips. not lighting it but keeping it between your teeth as you roll it around. looking around hopefully for a head of blonde hair and that signature guitar case. instead you spot momo and sana in the back, giggling with each other before jumping to scare an unsuspecting jihyo. 

you turn back around facing the stage. arms crossed as your eyes land on everyone huddled closely. tapping your finger against your phone as you beg for it to vibrate. anything for a sign of thought from chaeyoung. she hasn’t answered your message from days ago, a clear indication she was retreating back into her shell. 

one that you often have to pull her out of, it’s just worse knowing that you are the reason why she’s retreating back.

you take another at the stage when you begin to notice the lights starting up, like a strobe light illuminating the dark stage. and out steps the administration, welcoming in the school spring festival.

you stare at your fellow classmates, some band members you can remember from your class. there’s jooyeon and o.de from english, along with their bandmates. eyes gleaming in the sun as they await their set. 

the crowd shouts as they continue their set. and through all the pop rock songs the sun continues to set into the night. the low buzz of people talking and laughing filling the night air. jeongyeon, nayeon and jihyo promptly rejoining you in the crowd of people. softly singing along to the covers of the songs. 

you watch as jeongyeon has her arms wrapped around nayeon. keeping her swaying in her arms. a deep feeling of longing in your heart as you stare at them. you even begin to feel a tear form before you snap out of it. the wind picking up as you continue to sing with mina. jooyeon and o.de giving their ending remarks and exiting offstage.

you turn to mina, offering her a light smile when she sees your distraught face all throughout the set. 

while you’re busy reassuring mina that you’re okay, a head of blonde enters the stage. jihyo and jeongyeon are busy fussing and bumping into you. making you turn your sight to chaeyoung up on stage. the dark lipstick that she always sports on her face. along with that guitar pick necklace you gifted her as one of your first gifts. 

the red of the mic in her hand and that guitar that she treasures most. 

you wonder if she treasures you in the same way.

people have begun to notice her on stage. everyone knows of chaeyoung, but few knew her truly. they didn’t know how she liked to sleep with that exact bunny by her side every night. they didn’t know the way she liked her coffee. they certainly didn’t know about that tattoo on her back. they don’t know how hard she pours her heart into every song she makes. 

they don’t know her like you do.

she takes center stage, eyes a little weary as she stares into the crowd. letting them sweep across the crowd. biting on her guitar pick as she stares out. and with a small huff she sits herself on the wooden stool. taking the time to adjust the mic stand. guitar laying on her body gently.

a reminder of every little ritual that you see when chaeyoung plays her guitar, all in front of your school to see.

staring at her as your body stills. not even the sight of jihyo and nayeon in your peripheral vision distracting you from your girlfriend. 

“hello, i’m chaeyoung.” she scoots herself further back onto the stool. you can hear the cheers from the crowd. they’ve never seen her perform in public in all the years that she’s carried that guitar on her back. 

everyone’s begging for a glimpse into what you admire so often.

“i know a lot of you have seen me with my guitar and wondered what i sing about? what i play about? who i play for?” she says, eyes continuing to stare into the crowd. she stutters a bit when her eyes land on you. hand gripping onto the red mic a little tighter.

“this song that i wrote, i wrote this based on my own feelings, and i wrote it for someone. please listen.” she says, taking a deep breath as she tucks a leg over another. letting the guitar rest it’s curve onto her thigh as she adjusts herself.

“this song is called ‘cant remember to forget you’, please enjoy.”

there’s light cheers and whistles as chaeyoung readies herself. 

and I left a note on my bedpost

saying not to repeat yesterday's mistakes

what I tend to do when it comes to you

her voice rings out clearer than the sound of water drops. the speakers hitting your ears as if she’s singing it to you. like all things that remind you of chaeyoung, one thing is the constant sticky notes in her room. dedicated to remembering the things that she cherishes most, one of which was the first note that she wrote to you, asking you to be her girlfriend. 

her eyes closed as she feels the music, hands moving along the guitar, and you can feel it, the emotions through her singing. a deep feeling as she nearly gets choked up. pushing through it to continue to sing. everyone around is swaying to her playing. 

her eyes landing on yours once more.

she’s singing this to you.

only to you.

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, i never met someone so different

the way she continues to slide her hands over the different frets. standing up quickly when she feels the emotions running through her too. eyes ablaze as she pours into her emotions. people are getting into the song, everyone’s cheering loudly and staring at her. but she can only focus on you. the way tears are falling off your face. the way the lights shine on your face. 

this song was made for you. 

and only you.

the only memory is us kissing in the moonlight

oh-oh ooh oh, oh-oh ooh oh

i can't remember to forget you

the memories of running down the sidewalks. laughing loudly as her hands were in yours. a box of takeout in hand and flowers in another. the memory of her slowing you down to give you a kiss under the moonlight.

every memory of your love under the moonlight, or under studio lights. love that only you two knew. tucked away from the world and those around you two. she rocks into the beat of the song, letting her playing get her into the feeling. 

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, I never met someone so different

her eyes are shining with tears too as she stares at you, you continue to stare at her. the way she can’t hold herself back when she’s singing. you’ve never heard her so vulnerable and open. a declaration of the feelings that she keeps away from others. and sometimes even you in turn. 

there’s tears in her eyes but she keeps singing to you. like all great artists they need a muse, and for chaeyoung. 

it’s you.

I can't remember to forget you.

she plays the last note, letting it fizzle out, and then the crowd erupts into a roar. everyone who ever thought she was strange for carrying her guitar everywhere is cheering in admiration. chaeyoung’s a talented artist. you knew this firsthand, but now everyone else knows it too.

the roaring in your ear feels like it’s muted, you can’t even hear them anymore. just the feeling of tears rolling freely, as she stares at you. her breath through the mic as she stares you down. that bunny hung onto the stand. she want you to know this song, it’s only for you.

only for you.

more people are cheering her on, begging for another song, erupting in chants of her name. 

“i’m only performing this song. i hope it reached the person i wanted it to reach.” she says. grabbing ahold of her mic, guitar, and tucking the bunny under her arm. taking a short bow before exiting off the stage. using the sleeves of her shirt to wipe the tears off.

mina’s offering a tissue to you silently, and you wipe your tears away as she looks away. a sweet smile on her face as you excuse yourself to find chaeyoung.

eyes a little blurry from the tears as you head off the side of the stage. seeing her blonde hair in the crowd. she looks gorgeous. and then she spots you, running up to you. throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a kiss. 

taking the time to continue to kiss you even as you feel you nearly fall over. loud cheers and gasps as more people spot chaeyoung kissing you fiercely.

she leaves the kiss, eyes still filled with some tears but then she smiles at you.

“is this official enough?” chaeyoung smirks before pulling you into another kiss.

yeah, this is more than enough.

-- a/n: very late chae day fic hahaha !! sorry about that !! this is for my angst luver <33 angst4chaespookums lives on. stay safe and stay healthy everyone

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 832: Stars of the Lid And Their Refinement of the Decline

When ambient duo Stars of the Lid released their two-hour triple LP And Their Refinement of the Decline back in 2007, we were in the weird era between iPods and iPhones. It was also the era of Last.fm---the website that tracked and displayed your digital listening habits. Stars of the Lid were my top played artist by a wide margin, mainly because I was listening to this album on tour night after night on my iPod headphones to drown out the sound of snoring bandmates.

And Their Refinement of the Decline was the perfect sleepy time music back then. The Texas duo of Brian McBride and Adam Wiltzie contorted the sound of their electric guitars into hazy orchestral swells to a point where it was nearly impossible to figure out where one ethereal guitar line began and the other ended. It was an undulating mass of feather-light electric drones supplemented by strings, French horn, trumpet, and flugelhorn. It was equal parts narcotic and narcoleptic.

It was sublime stuff, especially if you were slightly inebriated and dozing off to sleep. But as with all music, you can burn yourself out on it if you play it too much. Eventually I started listening to other Stars of the Lid albums when I'd go to bed. Or I'd listen to other ambient and drone albums. At some point, the album fell out of constant rotation in my life.

But I just got home from a five-week European tour last night, and I'd revisited And Their Refinement quite a few times over the course of that trip.

Touring is different now than it was 17 years ago. I'm no longer putting music on my headphones as an escape from the close quarters of years past. I'm not sharing a bed with a bandmate. Most nights, I'm not even sharing a room. And I'm not going to sleep with multiple beers in my bloodstream.

Early tours were an adventure. You didn't know what to expect from one night to the next. There was a certain baseline level of adrenaline and anxiety that was ever-present as you'd go from town to town on a shoestring budget, hoping the van didn't break down somewhere along the way, hoping folks would come to the shows, hoping they'd buy enough merch to put gas in the tank. There was no privacy, no backstages, no moments of calm. You were either with your bandmates or in public. You'd drink or smoke weed to take the edge off the constant socializing. You'd go to bed with your head buzzing, trying to will yourself to sleep while your brain was still processing all the events of the day.

Things are different now. We know most of the promoters and clubs. There's a comfortable backstage on most nights. I spend less time out in the crowd, mostly because people want to talk or take pictures together and the pandemic made me leery of interacting with throngs of strangers in confined spaces. We have ticket pre-sales so we generally know how many people will be at any given show before the date arrives. It's less of an adventure and more of a routine, which may seem a bit sad to the young'uns out there who romanticize the chaos and excitement of life on the road, but at age 47 the only way to make this sustainable is to stay healthy, grounded, and well-rested.

I played Stars of the Lid on this tour not to induce sleep in a cramped hotel room, but to bring a sense of calm to the occasional stresses of the road. Have to drive an hour after a hectic show to get a start on the next day's drive? Throw on Stars of the Lid. Gotta drown out the hordes of school kids running around on the ferry between France and England after dealing with customs and immigration? Stars of the Lid is perfect for that.

And you know what? It's been nice to revisit this album in a lucid state, to hear the subtleties in this deceptively nuanced music. The surface level admiration of the woozy serenity of the album has been replaced by a deeper appreciation for its interwoven layers and textural depth. It was once an inverse of touring life's agitation, a remedy to the dissonance of the road. Now it's a moment of reflection in a calmer world---a way to further strip away the noise and bustle of the public and replace it with a study in the benefits of deep listening.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 2

Synopsis: its the Monday after, what will the meeting involve for the Doctor and y/n?

a/n: uhm idk how sustainable my current writing rampage is. But tadah. We're writing to make ourselves happy. Set in the pov of the reader. Thank you to all who reads.

The Thursday after your meeting with Professor Smith, you felt like you didn’t even want to work. You could have sat on that bench until the evening chill came and claimed you.

Much more agreeable than one of your appointments canceling on you. You really needed the extra 150 quid.

Friday came and went. Nothing but dead air on the phones. The bookings girl was apologetic and let you have half a puff off her joint.

Such was life.

You were itching to get the weekend over. There was a footie match on, so you expected the bare minimum and weren’t let down.

Guess you were shopping at Aldi again, and figuring out how much of your savings you could really chip away at.

Monday was cold and dreary, it slapped you awake with your alarm. Your financial worries were keeping your sleep restless.

Not that you already wouldn’t have been kept up.

Your first class of the morning was somber. It wasn’t as dazzling at Professor Smith’s. The lecturer lacked chutzpah. Showmanship. Just droned on about hum-drum statistics and their relationships on graphs. You felt yourself slipping into a stupor.

By the time the class ended, you had lost most of your fingernails and had bitten a sizable swell on your tongue.

You dragged yourself into the toilets and started fixing yourself up. You were so nervous and every time you saw that man you fought the urge to drown yourself in the Avon. The man was beyond entrancing. Everything he said drew you in. And his flourishes?

Hypnotic.

You fixed your make up, glitter you had from your usual rota had built itself up in the corner of your eyes , no matter how much hard scrubbing you’d do, it would be there until it was time to get back to work on Thursday evening. You only had one class on Fridays so you could easily take two shifts.

You applied some chap stick to soothe a newly-chewed hole in your lip.

You muffled a scream into the sleeves of your jumper. You really didn’t know what was getting into you. It felt like your entire brain was sliding both downwards and to the left out of your skull. Through your ear. You were beyond close to failing this term. The term had barely started, but you knew it wasn’t going well!

And right now, you couldn’t afford to mess up.

You cursed yourself for following his order of “So long as it’s your last.” With your cigarettes. You threw away the entire, barely depleted pack into the trash can near the bus stop immediately after your meeting.

That entire ten minutes left you giddy and thrown off.

You sprayed some perfume on you and took a deep breath before trudging your way down to his office.

You knocked tentatively.

“Ah, come in (y/n)!” He announced.

His office was warm. Dynamic. He had an electric guitar perched on the wall. Overcrowded. There was so much to take it

Warm.

When so much of the university was drafty and got worse on days with bad weather. His office felt safe. Like somewhere there was an invisible fireplace roaring. It was more than comfortable. It was cozy.

You plunked your bag across the shoulder of the chair that faced the desk and started trying to drag out your notebook for his class.

He waved you down.

“No need for that, just yet.” He smiled easy. His holey sweater layered with a tee-shirt and hoodie matched it. The usual blazer he donned for lecture slung across his chair.

“How was your weekend?”

“I just worked. It was so slow.” You confessed.

“What about those appointments?”

You let out a nervous, yet angry laugh. “Oh, one canceled on me.” You tugged on your jumper. It was warm in here and you got nervous when anyone asked anything regarding work. You didn’t want anyone to know. Especially a professor at your school! What would the consequences be? The two worlds of you and your work never should meet. You tapped on your thigh.

“And yours?”

“Not much to report, just also work.”

“Ahh.” You replied. You felt awkward.

“Uhhmm, I have accommodations put in by the university for my stuff. But right now, I don’t think they’re working? And the office who deals with that is totally backed up and can’t see me right now.” You drummed on your thigh a bit more and pleaded with your eyes. You were way out of your depth. You were just hoping maybe he’d have some pity. Some empathy. His class was engaging. He talked so well about everything. It was labeled as a philosophy class, but it felt more like some advanced physics class at time. He was poetical and waned on about too many a topic.

It challenged you, and you did like that.

You went back to trying to claw your notebook out. He tenderly grabbed it out and placed it on the desk.

“Thanks!” You replied to the gesture…

He produced a plate of chocolate chip cookies out of seemingly nowhere. They seemed freshly baked.

“Since I’ll be keeping you from lunch…” He shrugged. “Hope you don’t mind. We have to go over everything.”

You took one, it was big and gooey. Delicious. Had a hint of something else in it that you couldn’t place.

“Now, love, what are we looking at?” He muttered rifling through the pages.

“Fuck if I know.” You blurted out. “Sorry for my language.” You slapped your hand across your mouth, as if to stop anymore profanity from escaping your lips.

“It’s fine, heard worse. You should hear my wife. Mouth like a sailor! She once went in for twenty minutes at some dignitaries that wouldn’t let her scarper off with an artifact!” He laughed.

The minute he mentioned a wife, something in your chest fell down deep inside your gut.

Of course he’s married! He fit the entire profile. You should have known that from a mere glance. His age, married. White collar job. This place was probably his passion. The one good outlet that stopped him from visiting other places…

You stopped yourself from putting him in a neat little box. That was for work. Not for school. You mentally shook yourself.

“She sounds a riot! What does she do?”

“Oh, she was an archeologist! And a professor! Total bad girl.” He reminisced.

The ‘was’ put that sunken feeling back in your chest.

“Your notes are amazing. Very detailed. Really appreciate the scribbles and the note of ‘if you can’t focus today-> you’re wasting £76.21 today’”. He pointed out your mathematical equation you did breaking down the cost of tuition, the fees and the exact price each class cost per day.

“Am I wrong though?” You grimaced.

“You’ve got the wrong perspective, but I can see where you’d go with that. Capitalism has ruined what should be a shaping experience for you!”

You scratched your neck and shook your head.

“Yeah.”

You both poured yourselves over the topics covered and the remarks you made about it in your ongoing scribbled in reminders to yourself about class.

You felt him leave his seat and move over to the one beside you, probably meant for another student. The way his hands (large, sinuous, seemingly decently manicured, thin and well-jointed, you noticed appreciatively.) Combed the paper and tapped on words was enthralling.

The conversation expanded. He was letting you go off and follow your own conclusions about the subjects at hand. He commented and helped you link one thought to the other. Like a well-oiled duo. The office lights warmly reflected off the steely blue eyes that seemed to glow and shimmer when you made your own conclusions that fell in line with the lesson he was trying to give one so and so day in so and so page of note. You felt yourself relax and curl into the chair, sat cross-legged.

“So that means that time isn’t effectively real It’s a construct as much as a hobby?” You reported your findings from the deep trudged corners of your mind.

“Fuck yeah!” He shouted. Echoing your sudden use of profanity earlier…

It was oddly endearing.

He caught your gaze and you saw yourself in those haunting blue eyes. There were things brewing in those eyes. His mind was working faster and more erratically than yours was. And you were the expert on racing thoughts and flying minds.

Or so you thought…

You quickly dropped your gaze.

A red, hot flush ripped through your body. It was like he stripped you bare. And not in the way so many others have seen you bare. It was like he was inside your head. He was inside you, your very soul.

You became all to aware of your body again, the sudden ricochet into personhood was oddly violating. You uncrossed your legs and tore at what remained of your one middle finger’s nail. Really gouging into the skin around it. Doing the ultimate amount of damage. The casual, open phase of this meeting had ended.

He noticed your change and smoothed himself out.

You hated that you were the catalyst for this tone shift.

“I’ve kept you too long, (y/n). Why don’t you go. I’ll email you if I can see you next Monday.”

The thing in your chest from earlier sunk deep again. Further than the last time.

You gathered your things and made your apologies with your eyes. Walking out, you noticed your middle finger was bleeding. Profusely.

The campus felt colder than ever.

You could have shot yourself.

[wastingstarlight]

💀🧼 drabble for the lovely @empresscirque and their prompt: "ghost playing guitar and soap liking it" 

pairing: john "soap" mactavish/simon "ghost" riley rating: T length: ~1k CWs: brief canon-typical violence A/N: ft! price/gaz mention for funsies, light angst, & a dash of hand kink bc of who i am as a person. thanks for the prompt and hope you enjoy! 💜

Soap is right fucking knackered.

The op had gone to shite as soon as the last two men guarding the garage pressed a silent alarm before Soap could dispatch them, summoning a small army of backup that had not been in the intel brief. 

It takes all his years of training, Ghost on his six, and sheer bloody luck to make it out in one piece. To top it off, since the place is now crawling with hostiles, exfil has been pushed back; they have to bunk in a safe house until things settle.

Soap barely fights the urge to groan as Laswell relays that charming detail to them. All he wants is a hot shower, a cold glass of water, and eight blissfully uninterrupted hours of shut-eye in a bed he knows he won’t get shot in. 

Well, as long as Price doesn’t figure out that Soap’s been the one deliberately shrinking his shirts, that is. What can Soap say; the man needs to get laid. He’s seen the way Gaz has been gawking at the captain, the way Price sneaks his own looks when he thinks no one’s watching, and Soap is more than happy to be their fairy fuckmother or whatever. He just wants someone to be getting some, is all. 

“Chin up, Sergeant,” Ghost—speak of the fuckin' devil—deadpans as he sets the course towards the coordinates Laswell had provided. “Least I’m not pullin’ a bullet outta your arm this time.”

“There’s still time,” Soap grumbles. “Think we’d get exfilled faster if ye were?”

Ghost snorts. “Not with the way our luck’s been goin’ tonight, Johnny. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

///

The safe house is standard; utterly ordinary, out-of-the-way, lightly stocked with food and gear. Working electric too, so Soap helps himself to a glass of cold water. That’s one thing off his checklist, anyway, and he’s already eyeing the washroom where a shower beckons. Maybe the night won’t be all bad.

“Go ahead,” Ghost says, like he’s reading Soap’s mind. “I’ll check the supplies, figure out something to eat.”

“Have I told ye how much I love ye lately, Lt?” Soap breathes, hardly thinking before the words are out and he’s brushing past Ghost and into the washroom. 

Soap stands under the blissfully hot water with his eyes closed and pretends he’s in a swanky spa in Glasgow instead of The-Middle-of-Fucking-Nowhere, Russia. It works, almost, but his grumbling stomach reminds him he has other things to tend to.

He switches the shower off with a sigh and towels off before tugging his base-layers back on. He especially hates this part—having to return to dirty clothes—but at least they’re quick-dry

Soap opens the door to the washroom, halfway to feeling like a person again, and then he hears it.

He thinks it’s the radio at first, on some weird Russian instrumental channel, but as he draws closer, he picks out little pauses, little imperfect scratches of fingers on strings, and he realizes right before he sees it that it’s not the radio; it’s Ghost.

Soap is not ready for the sight or what it does to him.

A single lamp casts the scene in gold and banishes the shadows to the corners of the sitting room. Ghost is down to his balaclava, t-shirt, and tactical trousers, cross-legged on the ground, a worn acoustic guitar in his lap. He watches his fret hand as he plays, his movements a bit slow but smooth, careful, practiced. Soap doesn’t know the song but he doesn’t really care; his eyes are fixed on Ghost’s hands. 

Big, scarred, powerful hands that Soap has seen slit throats, crush windpipes, disassemble and reassemble sidearms in under thirty seconds. Hands that are just as much a part of Ghost’s kit as his throwing knives. And Soap can’t stop watching those hands as they dance nimbly across frets, strum a precise rhythm that leaves Soap breathless for a reason he’s not allowed to let himself think about.

It’s over too soon.

“Ah didnae ken ye played, sir,” Soap murmurs, scrambling to fill the sudden silence before his traitorous thoughts do.

Ghost shrugs and ducks his head. He plucks a few more notes in a half-melody. “Dad taught me. ‘S been…a while since I’ve practiced,” he replies, voice rough, and Soap knows better than to push. 

There’s something desperately close to vulnerability in the air as Soap kneels in front of Ghost. Ghost’s eyes, honey-gold in the low light, track him the entire time, and curse that fucking mask because Soap would kill a thousand men to see Ghost’s face right now, to touch—

Soap swallows the want with practiced ease and fixes a smile to his face. “Y’know any other songs, Lt.? Closest I’ve been to a proper concert in ages.”

Ghost rolls his eyes but plucks out a few more notes before starting a new song in earnest. 

And the moment passes, like all these moments pass, because Ghost is Ghost and Soap is an expert at dealing with wanting things he’ll never have.

Soap tugs his knees to his chest, leans back against the sofa, closes his eyes, and lets the raspy acoustics wash over him.

He doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until he’s being woken up by Ghost pressing a mug of steaming soup into his hands.

“Eat this and get to bed,” Ghost says. Any vulnerability is gone, replaced by the Lieutenant’s gruff commands. “Long day tomorrow and I need you sharp.”

Soap knows the drill.

“Yes, sir,” he replies, stifling a yawn, and accepting the soup gratefully.

Soap’s sleep is as fitful and light as it always is in the field. 

But he dreams of music.

[miashyperfixations]

FOUND HEAVEN - CONAN GRAY ALBUM REVIEW

05.04.2024 • Pop • 13 Songs • 36 Minutes • 2024 Republic Records

★★★★☆

FAV SINGLE: Alley Rose

TOP 3: Fainted Love, Alley Rose, Winner

Synth pop is back. Following his sophomore album ‘Superache’, Conan Gray released his highly anticipated 3rd album this April. The Japanese-American singer has shifted from his previous singer/songwriter aesthetic to that of a glam pop icon, although his exceptional songwriting and storytelling abilities still shine through, most notably on tracks like ‘Alley Rose’ and ‘Winner’.

Overall, this project is very reminiscent of Queen and ABBA, with clear Bowie & Elton John influence, especially on tracks like ‘Forever with Me’ and ‘Lonely Dancers’. It’s an album of love and heartbreak, taking the listener on a rollercoaster of emotions over half an hour. Unlike his previous two, this record was not produced by Dan Nigro (Olivia Rodrigo, Chappel Roan, Caroline Polachek), but instead primarily by Max Martin, who worked on, Taylor Swift’s original ‘1989’ album in 2014, The Weeknd’s ‘The Highlights’, and more recently, Ariana Grande’s new album ‘Eternal Sunshine’ - the man is a pop legend. He knows what he’s doing.

The first and lead single, Never Ending Song, set the tone for this album back in May. It’s a vibrant synthy sound, aided by energetic drums to fully showcase Conan’s lower register vocals. The record overall gives off an 80s new wave synth vibe but also sounds like it should be in a 2000s movie soundtrack. Especially with well-received tracks like ‘Bourgeoisieses’, a fun rage song with rhythmic drive, and a synth bassline underneath seamless chorus vocald for added effect. Multiple layers reflect the multiple layers of society the song acknowledges, with Conan sings about the different classes of people and how he wanted to belong in a higher class when he was younger.

The piano ballad ‘Winner’ acts as a beautiful album closer, with even more stunning stacked vocals to really get the message across. Tissues are definitely needed for this one. He’s really started to return to his singer-songwriter roots whilst still managing to keep elements of this new sound such as electric guitar chords in time with the piano and dramatic drums to keep a rhythm and dramatise the song further on top of his hard-hitting, gut-wrenching lyrics.

I think overall I still prefer Superache, but this is an exceptionally well written & produced record. The experimentation has paid off greatly, and Conan suits this style very well. Many male artists these days stray towards performing with a band and stick to standing with a guitar so it’s refreshing to see a gen Z male artist that isn’t afraid to dance around a big stage and have fun with their fans. Conan also has plans to go on tour across Australia, Asia, North America & Europe later this year with support from British popstar, Maisie Peters & American alt pop duo, Between Friends. Having peaked at No. 4 on the UK album charts and No. 2 on the US Top Album sales chart, it’s obvious he’s going to be one of the next big names in pop.

[dustedmagazine]

MJ Lenderman — Manning Fireworks (Anti-)

Photo by Charlie Boss

MJ Lenderman has a voice built for earnestness, a creaky tenor with holes worn thin where the emotion rubs. Listen with half an ear, and it sounds like he’s confessing to you: romantic disappointment, bad choices, bars and lies and gadgets that overcompensate for the empty spaces in his heart. Listen harder, and the writerly part of Lenderman’s art starts to come through, the clever twists, the novelistic details, the detachment. You get the sense, after a while, that he might not be singing about his own life at all. Layers of honesty and embellishment shimmer like a hologram; like Bill Callahan, he has the trick of being dead straight with you about things that never happened. Maybe they should have. They make good stories.

Consider how he tosses off a couplet about the quarter-life crisis in the title track, amid spun out country strings and distant squalls of rock guitar. In perfect waltz time, he confides, “Some have passion, some have purpose, you have sneaking backstage to hound the girls at the circus.” Which is perfect in a 1940s noir movie kind of way, but when was the last time anybody went to the circus?

The doomed romance, the ragged heartful-ness, the underlying shimmer of cleverness, that’s one element that makes Lenderman’s fourth full-length studio album so special. The other is the wrecking ball arrangements, that turn loose squalls of feedback addled electric guitar amid hazy swoons of strings. On “Wristwatch,” the slow-rocking sleeper of the bunch, he sounds a bit like Crazy Horse and a lot like the Replacements roundabout Hootenanny, which is to say drunk on amplifier noise but faithful to melody and throwing wild punches into the crowd. “Rudolph” blares and laments, its main riff a righteous conjunction of hard drums, electric sway and a pining pedal steel. It’s a banger, but Lenderman sings it carelessly, with an offhanded charm, as if he doesn’t know how big his song has gotten. “Bark at the Moon,” the album’s closing cut, lets things rip for just over 10 minutes, an ambling rock song ending halfway through to make space for vibrating waves of pure tone.

None of it is simple—especially given that Lenderman apparently played all the rock instruments himself—but here’s an artist who doesn’t break a sweat. Whether he’s launching a Neil-like arc of guitar dissonance skyward or getting off the perfect description of the horn that wheels through “You Don’t Know the Shape I’m In,” (“The clarinet, singing its lonesome duckwalk”), it never feels like Lenderman is trying too hard. It’s like it’s all natural, all heartfelt, all direct from him to you, except it’s not. It’s more interesting than that.

Jennifer Kelly

[splynter]

A Letter for The First Lost

A drabble about Wings Unflown. Iterator oc

Flooding, flooding with data. A dam barely restraining the overflow of code, information, and music. There is no room for thought or diverted focus, and that is how Wings wants it.

Music blasts in her chamber like a siren and fills her thoughts with intense guitar and orchestral ensembles. Neuron flies dance around her body in time with the rhythm, swarming in and out of her chamber in waves of powerful information. They fly through screens that surround her in words and footage and pearls. Perhaps this could be considered overstimulating, especially to one with lesser capacity than she. Yet here she is. Working. Thriving

Distracting herself...

No matter how hard she tries to bury, archive, and file away the data, she still cannot get all reminders out of her head. Ending's schematics, their core purpose, chatlogs upon chatlogs upon *mems* of them that she stripped and saved and buried. Their music playlist, once at the top of the SOLA playlist files, is now buried beneath every other playlist she has made. Not one song is allowed to be played. They've been erradicated from every other location. She just cannot risk accidentally happening upon a song on her radio that they loved. It hurts.. It reminds her that they can’t listen anymore..

...

Of course!! She's not thinking about that!! She is thinking so so very much, but it's about everything except what she actually needs to think about!! She gets a lifetime of work finished in mere minutes, she floods her feed with layers upon layers of content, she has three entire brains overflowing with information, and none of them are focusing on the issue at hand. Imagine that! Because she isn't!!

Or... maybe she is. Maybe.. maybe there is a simulation deep in her processes. One that is constantly being adjusted for accuracy. One that will forever be outdated because she never knew how they acted outside of their can.

Still.. still it plays. Over and over again. It is a simulation of a hypothetical visit. Wings in her chamber, hovering close to the floor, and right across from her is Ending. It's not real. It never will be. But she couldn't help herself. Every word she makes them say cuts a wound in her chest.

“I missed you, Wings.” They say every time. But it's not real

“{I'm so sorry I couldn't reach you.}” She replies in turn. ”[My towers reach everyone but I couldn't reach you.] |I'm so, so sorry..|“

”It's okay, it's not your fault.“ Every single time they say that, it doesn't feel right

”Of course it is!!” She wails. “{You were GONE!!} [I could've tried harder to find you, to search for you, to connect somehow but ] |But I didn't!! I never did!!|”

She never understands why they don't reply. In every simulation of this same scenario, even after so many adjustments for accuracy, they would never reply. They would only stand and stare at her with quiet, sad eyes. Perhaps it's because she's right. Perhaps it's because it truly is her fault.

She can't... handle it anymore. Simulation 3,440,509 of this same conversation, and it finally breaks her. She crumples to her knees on the floor of her chamber. She buries her face in her hands and every mind wails. It bleeds through the simulation and stains her towers. Each structure groans and cries for the sibling she failed to find. Electricity boils into the sky and consumes the air and the ground. In mere seconds, it is all she can think about. And it hurts

...

Something shifts in the simulation, startling her into silence. This is something new. Her focus returns to it just as Ending's face appears in front of her. They're suddenly so close. She flinches back, expecting him to strike her. To yell at her. Something.

But instead, all they do is extend their hand to her. Red fingers.. She stares at them. It's only a simulation, but still the idea of contact keeps her frozen in place. She doesn't... like being touched. It makes her chest tighten and her hands shake and her minds scramble like frightened moths. It's not something she wishes would happen to her without warning and careful coaxing.

Ending wouldn't know, so neither does this Ending. Wouldn't that mean they would touch her outright? But they don't. They're only holding out their hand

...

Slowly, she breaches the gap and takes their hand. It's a delicate touch. It's barely even there. Yet it's enough comfort. It's a silent “I forgive you.”

And despite knowing this will never be real, it still... feels right.

When she opens her eyes in her chamber, there is no one there but her.

[birdhaslostit]

Okay,

top Ghost songs in no particular order: a review

New fan here, and I’m trying to learn everything i can about these guys. I first heard them on TikTok, but it actually wasn’t Mary On a Cross. Most people seem to have found them through that. (There’s no shame in it though, that song kicks ass.) I don’t remember the first Ghost song I ever heard, but I do remember hearing about them every once in a while.

Cirice (Ceremony and Devotion ver.)

If it isn't the live version, I don't want it. You can feel the electricity of the crowd. The chanting and yelling, you can practically see people reaching out, clawing to touch the stage. The guitars are especially ominous and twangy in this version. Papa's little additions of "can you?" and "I wanna know" make me want to scream back like I'm actually there. The way he ends it on a HOWL of a note, with the added reverb of it being played live? I've left my body, I am no longer alive. My ex-catholic ass has never felt closer to god than I have while listening to the lyrics "can't you see that you're lost? Can't you see that you're lost without me?" Also, Terzo specifically playing this live? I've seen the videos. Absolute filth. Incredible. I would shit my pants if I saw it in person. Can I hear the rumble that's calling? Absolutely I can. It's shaking my floorboards from all the bass.

Jesus He Knows Me

I just need to start by saying that this music video is the filthiest thing I've ever seen. And. I. Love. It. I didn't even catch the Defroque pun until a few days later. This song and this video absolutely gut scummy televangelists, and it's the greatest thing I've seen in years. It was one of the first Ghost music videos I ever watched, if not the first. All over TikTok, I saw video after video of people going "don't watch this, it's terrible, it's insane, it's so disrespectful, it's so gross." And of course, I had to see it after seeing so many people tell me how gnarly it was. I knew I'd definitely seen worse, and I had to see it for myself. It was, in the biblical sense, Eve grasping for the fruit of the tree. I logged into Youtube, and my jaw was on the ground. I could talk about it for days. It ran through my head on loop afterwards, and just would not go away. I was absolutely shocked and amazed at the balls on these people to put it all out in the open like that, and to not only get away with it, but to make a poignant statement while doing it. They didn't just do this for the shock value, they did it because it's the truth. This thing fucking rules.

Rats

Oh my god, it's spooky Def Leppard! I love spooky Def Leppard! That guitar solo! Just listen to those layered harmonies on each "oh woah-oh." The music video? Exceptional in every way. It's like I'm watching an 80s MTV spectacle. The choreography is burned into my brain like I've stared at the sun for too long. It is extravagant in every way, and I love it.

Con Clavi Con Dio (Ceremony and Devotion ver.)

Again, if it isn't the live version, I don't want it. It hits infinitely different than it does in the studio version. Hearing the reverb of the vocals bouncing around the stadium, and everyone staying silent to listen to it like it's gospel... Outrageous. Hearing that first "Lucifer?" The Italian sections? I'm getting flashbacks of going to church, but instead I'm actually having a good time.

He Is

Now, as an ex-catholic, I wasn't really raised on the typical evangelical/protestant 'youth group Jesus rock.' My church was all old people, so it was mostly the traditional stuff. But I definitely have heard the genre enough to know it when I hear it, and this is it— but not shitty, and not about Jesus. If I heard this at a church during a vulnerable time in my life as a teen, I would've totally been on board. And the inherent layers to that fact cannot be understated. It's a perfect critique/parody, no notes.

Life Eternal

This hits me like a half-and-half blend between Cirice and He Is. It's got that yearning, reaching, almost loving feel to it that Cirice has, but the sugar-sweet churchy vibe of He Is that makes you forget the fact that it's being sung by the devil's favorite band. It also gives me almost Journey vibes? Like, listen to Open Arms, and then listen to this. I can't be the only one.

I Believe

I genuinely did not know this was a cover until like 5 minutes ago. This shit is so ethereal. Like, almost Enya-esque? There are so many layers to it, so many different parts you could focus on, so many different sounds blending into one gorgeous whole. How is it so heavenly even though it's being sung by a satanic pope? I'm levitating. I'm contemplating my existence in this universe. The original is not bad by any means, but I love this version 100 times more. This isn't just a cover, honestly. The song has been totally transformed. The atmospheres of the two versions are so vastly different that calling it 'just a cover' is doing it a disservice.

Darkness At The Heart Of My Love

The little guitar bit at the very start really surprised me, honestly. At first it sounded like... Renaissance fair-y? And then the vocals started. Ghost really keeps you on your toes. This is truly a pseudo-love ballad I can get into. If I was driving a car while this was playing, I would accidentally start speeding during the chorus. Again, strong 80s rock band vibes with this one. I keep thinking Keep on Loving You by REO Speedwagon. And the whispered parts that I had to google because I couldn't understand what they were saying? Once I found out, I was sold.

Square Hammer (Ceremony and Devotion ver.)

The reversed vocals at the start? That Scooby Doo-ass intro with the 60s-style organ? Again, I'm telling you, spooky Def Leppard! I love it! The live version of this is just incomparable to the studio version. The booming power behind this recording is nuts. It's like thunder and lightning, I've got chills. Am I on the square? Am I on the level? Fuck yes I am. Am I ready to swear right here, right now, before the devil? Give me a knife and point me to the nearest sacrificial goat.

Dance Macabre

Spooky stripper music. It's got a late 60s/early 70s vibe to it in a way that I can't fully explain. It might be the organ, it might be the vocal style, it might be the hook. The hook for sure sounds like something a boy band might pull, in a good way. Nothing occult enough to make the parents throw away all of their records, but enough to make your religious dad turn his nose up at it.

Kiss the Go-Goat

Jim Morrison, is that you? "You've been daddied by all the dudes that wanna dad / And all those dads never gave you the things you should've had" is the most insane line in this whole thing. He had no right. That's like a quadruple entendre. The balls on this man. And you already know I love a good blasphemous Latin section. With the smooches at the end? Be still, my heart. I just know people in 1969 were screaming and throwing panties onstage. It's just a fact.

Bonus list of songs I would shit my pants if they covered:

Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

Specifically the Holier Than Thou Approach with Francois Kevorkian. Like what the fuck else would they do? It's like asking a fish to breathe water. It would be stupid if they didn't. Do it, cowards.

The Hairstyle of the Devil by Momus

I love New Wave. I just do. And I think that Ghost could really transform it into something spectacular in their own style. The lyrics are fascinating: "And when you meet me finally your horns will lock with mine / For the beast rules with rivalry / As the clock rules with time / Pleased to meet you, hope you've guessed my name." They could do so much with this.

Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga

A pretty obvious pick, I know, but you have to admit it would be incredible.

Talking In Your Sleep by The Romantics

They could make this so slutty and so spooky, y'all. Listen to the lyrics and tell me they wouldn't.

Pet Sematary by The Ramones

Again, on-brand.

The Stroke by Billy Squier

I mean, come on.

Fortune and Fame by Naked Eyes

I can't tell you why, but in my mind, it really fits.

[rjtaylorsversion]

1989 TV Impressions in Album Order (after a few listens)

welcome to New York - first listen sonically it sounded wildly different to me, and the intro still does, but I like it! It feels so crisp and clean, but still so fun. Perfect intro to 1989 as always.

blank space - similar consensus it sounded so different on first listen, and I’ll be honest I don’t love the new click sound, but the little giggle when she says nightmare is adorable. It’s a classic!

style - somehow this is the one that sonically feels the MOST different to me. The base line is heavier throughout than in the original, and the iconic electric guitar intro takes a bit more of a backseat. In the chorus her voice is more elevated above the music and sounds so crisp, I love that! Overall everything production wise sounds better IMO. To me it sounds just like it does when she sings it in the Eras Tour!

out of the woods - hearing the iconic intro “oh oh ohs” SO CRISP was mind blowing, it’s even better than the original, I will take no shit over this. OOTW TV is better than the OG. The bridge still goes just as hard, and the background vocals are heavenly.

all you had to do was stay - those super high “stay”s still slay for sure. This one sounds to me very much like its OG counterpart, the harmonies do seem better blended throughout though than in the OG and I love that you can hear all the layers of her voice!

shake it off - perfect as always! Even though this song was so overplayed once upon a time, Taylor’s Version is making me love it again!

I wish you would - another intro like style where the guitar intro seems to have been toned down slightly, which doesn’t sound bad, I just wish it was more forward! Other than that, very similar to OG, but still sonically clearer and better! The little synth in the pre-chorus towards the end is amazing.

bad blood - YESSSS. Still sounds so angsty, the “heys” are SO GOOD. I’ve still always loved the version with Kendrick the best, and I’m so glad they didn’t make us wait too long for that!

wildest dreams - this one has already been out for a while, and it’s always sounded good and very much like the OG!

how you get the girl - I’ve always freaking loved this one, and it doesn’t not disappoint. I love the poppy baseline just as much as I did when it first came out, the chorus still slaps 100%. And I love the little electronic synthy swoop additions we get on the second round of the end of the chorus, and her squeaky “yeah-ah-ah”

this love - this one has also been out for a while, but her vocals are stunning and I love when the drums kick in on the second verse!

I know places - oh my god the distortion on the intro “I—I—I”s is EVERYTHING. It sounds so freaking good. And the “WE RUUUUN” in the second chorus gives me literal chills. 10000/10 Taylor’s Version really gave us this one 100%. SHE ATE THIS ONE UP.

clean - the vocals are clear and sparkling, and the song is emotionally devastating us as it always did before. The layering of the harmonies and different voices is absolutely heavenly especially in the pre-chorus and chorus

wonderland - I have no words for how good this is. The same as I’ve said before on the other songs, the production is so clear and crisp and her voice sounds so mature and insanely good.

you are in love - one of my favorites from the OG deluxe version, I remember listening to this at night in my car as an 18 year old dreaming of a love like that, and being completely swept up in the lyricism and gentle melody of the song. TV brings back all those feelings and then some, especially now being married to the love of my life. This song is so freaking special to me. 🤍 the “ahhhhh ahh ahhhhh”s at the end of this song are angelic, especially with headphones!

new romantics - a certified BANGER as it has always been. Literally no notes, her voice is CRISP and the song is amazing.

vault tracks

slut! - I absolutely love the lyrics of this song, although I definitely expected a different vibe like everyone else I think. I love the color visualizations laid throughout and the laid back sound of the song in general. I like this song a lot, but it’s not my favorite of the vault songs’

say don’t go - the lyrical twin to all you had to was stay in my opinion, the flipped perspective. Love the use of the heavy baseline in the verses and pre-chorus while the chorus itself is more elevated. We also get the vocal echoes on “say….don’t….go” during the chorus and echoes on the bridge which sonically is very cohesive with 1989 as a whole!

now that we don’t talk - the hook is SO GOOD. I love the chorus, and I just in general love the feel of finally starting to feel yourself again after getting out of a relationship and realizing all the things that weren’t good about it. All in all, great addition to the album!

suburban legends - this song fits the sound of 1989 extremely well, but also somehow feels like it could be from Midnights? But I love the vocals especially on the chorus! I love the sparkly synth in this song too!

is it over now? - this is it, this is THE vault track. So far it looks like this is the fan favorite and I certainly don’t divert from that opinion. The LYRICS ARE GIVING and I am overall just obsessed with this. It sounds amazing and fits in the album perfectly, I can’t believe we didn’t get this on the OG album. “Let’s fast forward to 300 take out coffees later” has me in a chokehold as well as the “oH lord.” 18 years old of me would have had this on repeat in 2014, and 27 year old me is no different!

bonus

bad blood ft Kendrick Lamar - YES YES YES. it’s everything I wanted, I always loved this remix and it still gives everything. on repeat, nonstop.

If you made it through all of that, thanks for reading and share your thoughts/emotions/anything about 1989 TV below!

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Ainsley Costello shares striking indie-pop tune ‘Change Your Mind’, a reminder of consent and empowerment for all that need it

The rising pop rock artist Ainsley Costello has made quite a name for herself already, taking over the music scene at only 20 with her The Band CAMINO and Paramore reminiscent tunes. With an ever-growing fanbase and music that continues to show her growth and development, there’s never been a better time to start listening - especially with her latest single ‘Change Your Mind.’

Slowly fizzling in, ‘Change Your Mind’ is mysterious and mesmerising from the get-go, a stripped-back anthem exuding empowerment and confident right away. From the echoey backing elements to the half-muted guitar twangs, it’s got all the groove needed to draw you in, progressively building into one hell of a euphoric experience of slow-building action. Ainsley’s vocals are just as captivating, a self-assured performance channeling bravery and unapologetic assertiveness. Built up by a mass of reverberating layers, pounding drums and drawn-out notes, ‘Change Your Mind’ doesn’t stop delivering on that epic slow-burn of a build, crashing into a chorus you won’t be expecting. With gritty electric guitar strums, vigorous vocals, striking drum hits and layers of haunting backing vocals, there’s an element of punky angst woven into this indie-pop anthem, and that doesn’t go away any time soon either.

The lyrics are quite the force to be reckoned with in themselves too, giving everyone that much needed reminder that they don’t have to be pressured into anything they don’t want to. Instantly from one of the opening lines Ainsley establishes as much, ‘show some skin, doesn’t mean it’s for him’, a reminder that we can all dress in ways that make us feel confident without it being anything more than that. Continuing ‘puts his hand on your back, you can say I don’t like that’, there’s a reminder you don’t have to conform in the moment, setting boundaries is just as okay. While many may feel guilty or that they owe someone something, Ainsley sings ‘you can kiss in the dark while parked in a car and send him home alone’, something that can be hard to feel in the moment. Tied into her own experiences and connecting with everyone that needs it, the chorus is where her words resonate most: ‘I’ve been there before, if he might want more, if it isn’t going how you thought it might, nothing’s set in stone and you can change your mind.’

Keep listening to ‘Change Your Mind’ for yourself here, Ainsley has penned quite the powerful mix of catchy pop and meaningful reminders into one sure-to-be anthem.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[thebandcampdiaries]

Neveragain introducing a brand new album: "Despite Everything."

Neveragain is an Emo/Punk quartet based in New Jersey.

The line-up includes Joe Drew, Nick Rossano, Zach Rossano, and Max Martino, who managed to find their chemistry and create a powerful sound with a very kaleidoscopic twist and a huge range of styles on tap. From the bittersweet melodic sheen of early 2000s emo to the upbeat energy of modern pop-punk, anything goes. The group's most recent release," Despite Everything" feels like a perfect opportunity to push the boundaries of the band's vision and sound.

The album was written in a dark place, with the aim of capturing Joe Drew's mental state at the time. Each song essentially serves as a love letter to the impact his mental illness has had on his life over time.

The album features ten songs, each exploring a different direction while retaining a very personal sound. The opener, "Catching Fire," begins with some reversed parts to build a layered ambiance and texture. Soon after, the whole band goes off, unleashing a powerful rhythm and going for a smooth, dynamic sound that immediately sets the bar higher. The following track, "Red," is another distinctive piece of music and one of the highlights of the album. The call and response between the guitar parts in the intro leads to a huge sound, with massive drums and harmonized vocals soaring over a thick wall of electric guitars. "Rewritten" enables the band to dive deeper into their most atmospheric side, going for a deeper tone that combines hard-hitting punk influences with a darker tone, at times reminiscent of artists such as Armor For Sleep or Taking Back Sunday. "Dead and Gone" dives further into modern Pop-Punk aesthetics but with a more aggressive sound, especially in terms of vocals and guitars pushing the envelope. Fans of Sum-41 will instantly connect with this track! The song "Interstates" is one of the most melodic songs on the album, and the arrangement is immediately easy to relate to. The drums, in particular, build some great dynamics, with a slightly more laid-back vibe in the verses to allow the choruses to really go wild. "Painted Wings" is fast-paced and colorful, bringing the energy levels to a whole new level. The melodic guitar leads are catchy and well-executed, perfectly complementing the hooky vocal parts. "Despite Everything, It's Still You" is another great example of how good the band is at building immersive textures. The introductory segment features spoken word accompanied by suspended guitar chords, creating a captivating overlap that sets a powerful tone for the song. The mesmerizing blend of the spoken word and guitar chords gradually builds up to an exhilarating drum crescendo, signaling the imminent launch into the full-bodied performance of the song.

"Sapphire" is a more mellow song with exciting parts and a floaty, dream-like arrangement that offers another outlook on the diverse range of sounds the band has to offer. This track is quite reflective and finely crafted, demonstrating that this group is just as comfortable performing heavier material as they are with more introspective moments.

The next track, "Attention: Deficit," begins with a drum intro that feels powerful and thundering, a perfect beginning to one of the album's most poignant and diverse songs. The song's chorus is fantastic, featuring a gritty guitar part that is just as memorable as the chorus itself. Said riffs exhibit an intriguingly spacious and captivating quality, while the vocal harmonies delicately and flawlessly adorn each lyrical line.

Last but not least, the closing track, "No Sleep For The Dead," feels like a perfect final salvo, enabling the band to end with a very energetic outburst.

Ultimately, what makes "Despite Everything" special is definitely the fact that it showcases the band's diverse stylistic references, as well as signaling their ability to blur the lines between various influences. This release ventures far beyond the boundaries of typical pop-punk and emo music, and could be aptly characterized as a skillfully created alternative rock album. It offers a wide range of influences that significantly contribute to its overall effect. The band's music showcases a clear ambition to push past its initial style and consistently venture into uncharted musical territory. The album puts a strong emphasis on powerful, impactful moments while also revealing a band that is in a state of growth and creative exploration.

Their music is a truly compelling combination of raw punk influences and unfiltered emotions, especially coming through in the song lyrics. This is a great way for the band to create a very tight bond with listeners who crave authentic expression and a bold, uncompromising approach when looking for new music to welcome into their lives.

"Despite Everything" is indeed highly recommended if you are a fan of artists such as The Wonder Years, The Story So Far, Dead Rituals, Youth Fountain, or Mayday Parade, among others. Don't forget to check out "Despite Everything" on all major digital music streaming platforms. This new release is definitely worth a listen, so make sure not to miss out on it!

[findthebae]

uhh hey. so im dave strider from homestuck. uhh i dont have a lot of memories of sburb (like, i have a few, but theyre all fuzzy and weird and blotted.) i do remember hanging out with john rose and jade pre-sburb though. i had a crush on john and jade (but jade was aromantic and i never told either of them). i also remember vaguely having a crush on karkat and someone else, but im not sure who. they were a girl, though. man i had a lot of crushes. uhh. i dont know if john was trans or not, i just know he was a little weird about gender. i mean, i think we all were, but i really noticed it with him. bodily im 15 and mentally im like 15~16, so keep that in mind. im also part of a system and not the main host (i think). we also have a karkat, if that makes you uncomfortable or something. he just doesnt like me, even though we havent really talked

ill list some memories i guess?

john: i remember playing mario kart with him a lot and texting till late hours. we knew each other for a long time (like, since we were toddlers or something). i always saw him as a dude but sometimes jokingly called him my wife because we were so attached. we made stupid raps together sometimes, but i cant remember any of the words anymore. one was about fnaf. i have no idea what years my memories are set in, by the way. his eyes were really pretty green/blue (they seemed to change sometimes?) and his hair was always super soft. sometimes he played pranks on me and he always apologized if it upset me (different sensory issues, you know)

rose: she actually taught me how to knit. i think she was aroace but, like. open to romance? like i think she had a girlfriend once but im not sure who it was. she was also pretty smart about lgbt stuff and i think it mightve been one of her spintrests (we were all autistic, i was just the last to realize). she would actually listen to me make some of my music and give insight on lyrics and stuff. she was really good with lyrics. i think she got into her moms alcohol sometimes and i normally kept chatting with her so she wouldnt do anything dumb or something (especially since i got into alcohol sometimes too and i did dumb stuff)

jade: she didnt always make the most sense and sometimes i had to remind her to take care of herself because she got so hyperfixated on something she forgot. she liked writing and did some weird plant stuff? i think she was into magic. she was so so so pretty guys im so serious even if she wasnt literally connected with the stars id still be convinced she was one. anyway i also gave her some sea shells one time

karkat: man how do i say this. he tried to act like an insufferable prick but he was just genuinely so sweet. it sucks that i cant remember much of him, i just know he was real sweet and pretty and i think he purred.

other person i forgot: i think she played guitar? and she was a troll. i dont remember her typing quirk but i know it was definitely legible? her horns were kind of short (but not like karkats) and she was super sweet to me i think. and i did in fact fall for it. i will fall for almost anyone who's super nice to me. i dont even know if shes a canon troll

me: in general, i still dont remember much. i remember the land of fire and clockwork (a little) and i know i was kind of scared of bro at all times. i think i kind of remember how i looked? i tended to have a tan and i had a few scars (not sure where, just know they were. like. keloid scars and werent that big). my eyes were like? orange-brown, and i know i was pretty sensitive to light (mostly because i never took off my shades). my hair was like super blond, like really really light. i liked painting my nails (ironically) and tended to wear double layers (either a long and short sleeved shirt or a hoodie over my shirt). i also wrote raps and some other music. usually the loud kind. i had an electric guitar, but i dont remember how to play anymore. i also had sticky fingers pretty often (i stole a lot)

my tumblr is turntechdumbfuck. i also currently go by doctor/doc as well as dave (you know like doctor who. because. time stuff)

id prefer if you reached out to me but if you reblog ill message you. specifically reblogs or replies.

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[mustech273]

Produced by singer-songwriter Claire Cottril, otherwise known as “Clairo”, the song "Alewife" strays from her typical indie/bedroom-pop style. This song is a methodically paced ballad (103 BPM) with ringing piano and strummed acoustic guitar. While writing her LP “Immunity” at Truth Studios in Los Angeles, Clairo was inspired to make this song about her experiences with depression and how her best friend, Alexa, saved her from attempting suicide when she hit a low point in 8th grade. While coming up with some chord progressions on the guitar, Clairo realized she had to dedicate this song to Alexa and share how grateful she was to be alive today. Alewife, for which the song is named, is the train station Clairo frequented as a teenager when she was first starting to gain connections to the music industry.

At first, Clairo wrote the song using electric guitar, but when co-producing with ​​Rostam Batmanglij, she changed it to acoustic to give the piece a more “Elliot Smith” feel. The recurring guitar/piano chords consist of Eb, Gm7, Bb, Cm, and Ab in that order, and a fuzzed distortion effect is added over the guitar to give the song some harshness after the third verse. Clairo explains that this contrast between harshness and softness is what emphasizes the emotions tied to the song. Another primary instrument used in the recording of this song was the piano. Layered over the guitar’s steady strumming pattern, the piano was necessary to “activate the chords”. For the recurring drum beats - consisting of high hats and toms - all the individual samples were recorded with a tape machine. In the background, you can hear an Eb note consistently playing throughout; and this adds some ambience and warmth. The bass is another instrument used to tie everything together and add depth. Additionally, Clairo used revervb and double tracking on the vocals from her original demo to achieve a richer sound. All of this combined made for a simple, yet emotional track.

In doing my research, I was only able to find a piano score for this song on sheetmusicplus.com, so I mainly focused on listening to the original track a few times to get a feel for the production. In the score, both treble and bass clef were used. The time signature was 4/4 (simple quadruple or common time), and the diatonic collection used was Eb major (consisting of Bb, Eb, and Ab in the key signature).

Clairo’s vocals are highlighted and carry more of the melody compared to the instrumentals. One interesting part that stood out to me was from 1:47-1:51 when the drums cut out for a few seconds and during 2:10 when you can only hear the bass and drums. At 2:49, you can hear the outro with a repeating melody as well with more of a crunchy distorted sound coming from the bass. Overall, the instrumentation is pretty simple and repetitive, but I feel like it's fitting for this kind of song, especially with the personal meaning behind it. In terms of song structure, there are only 3 verses - no chorus, bridge, or outro, which makes it unique; but I feel like it’s enough to get Clairo’s message across to its listeners.