#long black limousine being the first track recorded which. i.

[septembersghost]

fwiw I would read your essay on the Memphis album ☺

😭 thank you honey, it's worth a lot

[jmeddows2]

You (Roger Taylor x fem!Reader)

This is my Halloqueen gift for @mezzomercury​ Happy belated Halloween! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it on time,but here it is. I’m really nervous about it ARGHH  @dtfrogertaylor​ Summary: Reader is an opera singer, with a chaotic manager with just the right contacts in the industry  Warnings: only a bit of swearing, else we have Fred and Reader become best friends, fluff Word count: 2k+ Notes: sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language Roger is single and childless in this story! The Duck House really exists and Queen used to stay there quite frequently when recording in Montreux :)

You were supposed to get a real job with a purpose, regarding the field you were actually educated in, but Steve, your manager had quite the reputation. Especially in terms of missing dates and mixing things up, making him the chaotic mess of a man that he naturally was. As an opera singer, that’s just started out, you struggled with auditions. Steve’s lack of time management was rather poor, that sometimes he wouldn’t tell you about the most important auditions in time, or miss most of them, because they just weren’t on his radar. If it wasn’t for all the contacts in the industry Steve apparently had, you would have run for the hills ages ago. One day, when Steve waltzed into the office to your meeting, which of course he was again late to, he was restless, jumping from one foot to the other. "I have it. This is going to be IT for you.” He explained it as a project. To 'expand’ your horizon, to fill your CV with something, that would make your future opportunities skyrocket from 0 to 100. .....to stand in for the band Queen as a background singer (in case of use)...... living, food and drinks provided.... is what the contract read ...should not be opposed to beer and fun. Must be flexible and be available to fly out during the time period of recording from June 1981 - March 1982. Place: Montreux, Switzerland. The few black letters on white seemed to get even more ridiculous throughout the over 100 page contract. But also funny. Mainly ridiculous though. Being crammed up in a recording studio in Montreux, Switzerland as an "option of use” wasn’t exactly your idea of a job. Or at least not what you were aiming for at the moment. The numbers with a 5 digit payment that crested the contracts last page, made you rethink the whole deal though, much to Steve’s joy. So you agreed. Your first encounter with Freddie, Brian, John and Roger was weird. Well, not with Freddie, Brian and John. They were all kind and excited to get to know you better. Roger was another thing. He didn’t even look at you or recognize you when you all gathered in one of the temporary Queen offices, to go over all the details. He was too distracted reading through the schedule for the upcoming months. It felt more like he pretended to be interested in the schedule on his lap, while absentmindedly toying with the pen between his fingers. You later found out, that he was dealing with the aftermaths of a really ugly breakup. Montreux, Switzerland You arrived at Geneva airport on a cold January morning, approximately 7 months after your first encounter with the band. Your personal driver was already awaiting you with a sign that read your name in capital letters. He had a wide grin plastered on his face. The exclusivity didn‘t stop there though. The one hour ride from the airport straight to the recording studio in the black limousine felt more like 10 minutes. A bottle of champagne, a few snacks and the heated leather seats in the car that made you feel oh so comfortable, may have been the reason why time passed so quickly. The nervous feeling crept back into your mind, as soon as the driver dropped you off in front of the casino, in which the recording studio was located.  The recording studio was situated in the basement. As you pushed the door open, there was only a friendly security guard in the foyer, checking your ID.  "Hi love, are you lost?“ It was Roger. His hair was a bit shorter than the last time you‘d seen him. "Oh hi, no actually, I‘m supposed to be here. As a background singer“ The uncertain tone in your voice made it sound more like a question. "uhh, I received a call to come out here. We had a meeting a few months ago“ Roger looked confused, but not bothered by your presence at all. "Well, be my guest then“ he awkwardly shook your hand and gestured for you to make you feel comfortable. "Where are you from uhm?“ "Micaela. Born and raised in New York City“ “A NYC girl?  pretty sure you’ve got some stories to tell” he teased.  “I’m sure not nearly as many as you” You got right back at him. That was something Roger highly valued. The wit, someone who’s not afraid to speak up. He smiled to himself and soon after Fred, Brian and John entered the studio as well. They each greeted you warmly.  Freddie was very excited to have you on board. When he wasn’t busy recording, as a fellow opera enthusiast, him and you always found something to talk about. Or it was rather having Freddie listen to all the stories you had in store, even if it was just a few. It almost felt like telling bed time stories to a child, seeing his dark, beautiful eyes light up, even at the slightest mention of words like ‘stage’, ‘orchestra’, ‘costumes’ or ‘opera’ in general. "I’m going to be honest with you, darling” Freddie said, as he took a seat beside you on the couch, while Roger was banging his drums frustratingly to the already finished guitar and bass backing track of ‘Las Parablas de Amor’ in the recording booth.  "We don’t actually need your beautiful vocals here” Freddie patted your thigh gently.  "You’re kidding, right? Why am I here then?” "I thought you may enjoy a little holiday out here. You know, there’s great spa resorts around town. And you could do some small assistant work, nothing hard or bad, I promise! No, I promise on Montserrat Caballé, so you really know I’m not joking” he swore. Well, you couldn’t say no now.

Out of nowhere there was a loud crash. You turned around to see Roger tossing his drum sticks across the room, nearly hitting John in the head. Roger continued to throw casette tapes around, that were properly lined up on the shelf nearby. “I’m done with this. It sounds like a cheap piece of crap.” he stormed out of the room. The boys only looked at each other, as if they were communicating through their minds on who’s turn it was now to go after Roger. "I’ll go” you volunteered, seeing as no one else made a move and what could you possibly have to lose? Except for a huge amount of payment. Ok, maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but the other boys looked quite relieved when you got up from your seat. You prepared for the worst,  grabbing your coat from the hanger on the door on the way out. It was really cold outside. Roger wasn’t hard to find. He was just outside the building, a cigarette hanging from his lips and rubbing his hands up and down his arms. He certainly wasn’t clever enough to bring a jacket with him, after his dramatic, oscar worthy departure. "Hey” how exactly do you approach an angry person you don’t know, but find really attractive? "Did they send you out here?” a chuckled groan left his lips.   “No, I came out here on my own. Want to talk about it?” you suggested. He offered you a cigarette, but you declined. 

"Talk about what? about the crap we’ve been recording lately? It’s disco.” he grimaced a pained face. “It sounds like the music they play in gay clubs. I mean don’t get me wrong, I support everyone’s sexuallity, but not everyone’s taste in music! I’m just not made for Disco music. It’s a load of bollocks. God, now I’m just venting” he threw the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his boots. "I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m actually an opera singer. Not really Rock 'N Roll, is it? Yet I’m here in a recording studio with one of the biggest rock bands.” "Ok you have a point. Why did you agree to do this anyway?” he was shivering, while lighting another cigarette. "Sometimes you make sacrifices for the sake of others, but only as long as you’re feeling comfortable in your own skin ”  "God,I hate that you’re right.” he sighed, unable to hold the pout anymore, that was was replaced by a smile forming on his lips. "Now let’s better get back inside before you freeze to death” you gestured for the door. "Just a minute” he grabbed you gently by the arm. "Thank you” Roger hugged you tightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The feeling of his cold cheeks in contact with your warm skin made you jump a bit.  “ Now let’s go and make some disco music” he laughed, grabbing your hand.  Expecting another fight and argument by Roger, Brian, Freddie and John were surprised to experiece as calm as he ever was. Stil, you decided to put the recording on hold for the day and locate back to the house, in which you all stayed. "Welcome to Duckingham Palace” when entering the house, you quickly noticed why Roger called it like that. There were hundreds of wooden duck statues situated all around the house. They were evrywhere, quite creepy, but as time passed, they became pretty much invisble to you. Believe it or not.

You all had gathered around the living room with a hot drink in hand, when John lit the fireplace, creating a cosy atmosphere. It felt like you’d known Freddie, Brian, John and Roger since forever, as you seemed to pretty much share the same or at least similiar interests and humor. "Ok now Micaela. Tell me. What’s your favorite Queen album?” John asked curiously while pouring a generous amount of rum into his hot chocolate. "Easy” Freddie answered for you. “Has to be A Day At The Races” you nodded in response. "See? we’re besties already, you guys better step your game up” Freddie threw his arm around your shoulders.  Roger couldn’t stop giving you little looks while having a conversation with Brian, who as expected also wasn’t a fan of the new direction in music they were headed at. “ how did you tame the lion, darling?” Freddie chuckled into your ear. " you know..How did you get Roger to calm down so fast? I know how he can get when he’s in a mood” "The cold outside did the job actually” you tried to sound nonchalantly.

"Of course yeah, that’s also why he’s been eyeing you up, ever since we left the studio. Did something happen?” Freddie kept pressing, but in a playful way.  "He never gives in so easily. Usually not even to pretty girls like you when he’s mad” Your only answer was a light blush of cheeks. At 2 am, John was the last one to go to sleep. Roger and you literally had to drag him up to his room. He was so plastered, that he didn’t even recognize his own song on the radio. Roger and you decided to sip on one last ‘good night drink’ to reward yourselves for all the hard work of tucking John into bed like a little baby. There was a silence upon you, but it wasn’t awkward at all, just relaxing. "Thank you again for today” Roger broke the silence. "Nothing worth thanking me for” "It is actually. Y'know I’m glad you’re here. You’re going to make this much more bearable for me" you snorted out with laughter, not realizing how serious he was about the words he said. "I’m being honest, love! I really fancy you and I want to get to know you better.” he was so close to you now, you could feel his warmth. "the seaside promenade is really beautiful, almost as beautiful as you.” Roger brought his hand to your hair, to brush a few strands behind your ear. "So, it’s a date then” you nervously drew a circles with your fingertips on the surface of the wooden kitchen counter, while looking into his ocean eyes. "Yeah it’s a date” he smiled at you. You both took your last swigs of your drinks.    "Good night Roger” you hugged him tightly and gave him little peck on the cheek, before wandering off to bed, thinking of all the beautiful scenarios the following day would have to offer. Roger followed closely behind, entering his own bedroom. The feeling of your kiss on Roger’s cheek lingered with him, until he fell asleep, thinking of his newly found happiness. You.

[teetkmost123]

Red, black and blue.

Marinette shows up in Gotham City for an exchange program. The one signed up for being her hosts was the Wayne, some didn't seem happy when she show up. They are cautious around her, but she couldn't blame them. Who wouldn't be? After all she is a 'problem child'. What in her profile would scare most people away. Either way, she will try not to bother them, she would do anything to stay at this point. Paris has no place for Marinette after all.

Damian- 13 Tim-16 Marinette-16 Stephanie-18 Jason-18 Cassandra-18 Dick-26

I rather not go through Bruce and Selina's ages. They're confusing.

Chapter 1: Gotham.

Walk out of the airplane, Marinette quickly makes her way to the waiting room, she looks around the room to find her hosts. She can see someone was waiting for her, the man has a sign with her name on it. She walks up to him, "Excuses me sir, are you, my host? " The man look at her and replies. "Yes and no miss Dupain- Cheng. I'm only your host butler, but we will get back to the manor as soon as you have all your luggage with you. " Marinette quickly holds up her suitcase with her. "In that case, I think we should get going, mister -?"

The butler raises an eyebrow at her rather small amount of luggage, "Please call me Alfred, miss Dupain-Cheng. And let go, the car is outside." The butler starts walking away.

"Yes, mister Alfred. " Marinette follows him, one hand on her suitcase, the other going through her hoodie bag. She can felt the cold of her bank card against her skin along with the paper contains her friends' numbers. She better gets a phone in her hand as soon as possible, Adrien gonna freak out if she didn't call him soon. ____________ She now in the limousine with Alfred, she wonders if she can ask him to stop at some electronics store. She needs a new phone and a laptop if she still wants to call her friends and continue her business. Her last updates and commissions that she able to finish were about a month ago. Before...

"Um, mister Alfred? " Marinette started, hesitantly. "Yes, miss Dupain-Cheng? " The butler answered, eyes still on the street.

"I was wondering... If you can stop at some electronics store for me? I need a new phone, my old one got stolen before the flight. " She said, the story was bullshit, but she rather lies than tell him.

The butler raises his eyebrows but agreed anyway. Marinette was glad at the answer to said the least, it's been more than a month since the last time she really got her hand on a phone. ____________ Marinette now walking in the manor, following the butler to her new room. She can felt the kawmii in her hoodie rubbing against her stomach.

'Wayzz must be hungry, he hasn't had anything since the meal he got on the plane. ' she thought to herself. When suddenly the butler stop in front of a room, Marinette almost slammed into him.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is your room, for now, please tell me if you need anything. " The butler turns to her. Marinette looks in the room and God, her face pale, the room so big, it like twice the size of her room back in Paris. "Thank you, mister Alfred. " Marinette turns to him and thanks to him anyway.

The butler seems rather cautious to any action of her, she can see his body slightly tense although his face held a smile. "It's my job miss Dupain-Cheng, you don't need to thanks me. And dinner will be around seven." And with that being said, the man turned around and walk away. ___________ Finally got her stuff in place, Marinette now turns her attention to her phone and laptop. She quickly put her friends and some other people numbers into the phone. This not the first time she lost her phone, so Marinette does it rather quickly.

And then she started to call each and every one of her friends to tell that she has got to the host's house safe. The conversations took quite long, the moment Chloé threatened her about something is the moment she heard a knock on her door. Apparently, it's dinner time and Afred comes to make sure she knows. She made no stop to get herself up and rush to the door.

The butler greets her then turn around and walk towards the dining room, Marinette follows silently. While walking she can feel her stomach growling, it's not because of hunger. That's for sure. ___________ She sits down in the spot the butler show her, the whole table was empty, the dinner was quiet. Giving the fact that she was the only one who eats, she finished it quickly although there a lot of food for one go. While she would rather eat less for dinner, she didn't want to waste any of the food Afred had prepared. It's also because her only meal for two days straight was only the food from the plane. "Thanks for the foods mister Alfred. It's was great."

"It's nothing miss Dupain-Cheng, I'm glad you enjoy it. " The butler told her while tidying up the table.

"... And mister Alfred? " Marinette start.

The butler looks at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I uh, I have some of my uh, stuff got sent by my friend to help me with my job. I hope it's wouldn't be a bother if I take it in and also kept my work going on." She looks up to him before freak out again.

"If it a bother, I would stop talking commissions while I stay here. " Marinette said it all out in a rush, hoping she didn't upset the butler, she could understand if they want she kept sending and receiving stuff from time to time. Or not having time to focus on other things, her parents and her friends thought so after all.

That's one of the reasons she hasn't received any commissions for a long time. The other being her equipment was out of hand. It's also the reason Chloé insist her to let the girl send some resources to her.

Marinette looks at Alfred then moves her eyes stiff to the floor. Waiting for the butler either refuse or yell at her like her mother or the last host did when she asked about it. ____________ Alfred looks at the little girl in front of him, she is not what he expected from a problem child nor someone who has such a bad profile. The girl seems timid, worry over his words from the very beginning. She only brings a small suitcase with her and most of the other things she just picks up on the way to the manor. She quietly followed him the whole trip and didn't look twice at the other spots on the table when she realizes she would be eating alone. She asked his permission to receive her things and to keep her business running for God's sake!

She is the same girl in the profile who got every possible crime a teenager can commit including bulling, stealing, assault, fighting, vandalism,... And even terrorism - which is the main reason Bruce wants to keep a close eye on her.

It's either the girl who was really good at hiding her true self or he is becoming humble.

It's no way of telling at this point.

Alfred looks at the girl who basically glues her eyes on the floor right now, he sighs.

"I'm sorry to say miss Dupain-Cheng, I have no control over the decision if you would be allowed to do your job or not. But I will tell master Bruce about it. "

"Thank you, mister Alfred. It's meant a lot to me. " The girl said while trying her best to show a smile. "I guess... I should head back to my room. " And the girl walking away.

Miss Dupain-Cheng would surely be hard to figure out. ____________ Marinette crashes her body on to the large bed, now while she hopes mister Wayne said yes, she wouldn't hold her breath. Turned her body left and right, she can felt the sores from the bruises that she got from falling down the school stairs. While she aching to cry because of the pain, she has a certain kawmii want to teach her some more of the responsibility as a guardian.

Marinette sits up, crossing her legs and wait for Wayzz to start on the lessons. She can't take note as the secret shouldn't be written down in any form.

The kawmii of protection quickly cast an only soundproof shield around them then start to teaching. He goes over the guardian language and then starts teaching on eligibility and responsibility.

She can see her little green kawmii flying close to her, Marinette can't help herself but remember about Tiki. How she had to keep the kawmii in the box, how the kawmii heal her wound, how the kawmii look her with teary eyes mumbling apologize...

"Marinette! Are you even listen to me at all? " Wayzz moved to in front of her, look at her in worry eyes.

"Oh, sorry Wayzz, I was thinking... " Marinette snap out of her thought and finally responded to her green little friend. Who just sighed, " It's okay my guardian, but you need to focus when I'm talking about what Master Fu had let me know on his knowledge."

"Oh sorry Wayzz... "

"It's okay, now let me start over. "

_____________ It's about eight when Bruce walking in the dining room, the other following close, they quickly got in their spot. Alfred put out the foods and the boys quickly got into some petty fight over it. Bruce makes no moves to stop them, instead, he started asking the butler.

"Afred, how is this Dupain-Cheng girl doing? " Bruce asked, eyes still on Dick and Jason who are fighting over a desert.

"She did fine master, but how she shows up her personality is rather... Different from what in the files. " Alfred said, his thought traveling back to her actions throughout the day.

"Oh? How so? "

"She appears to be shy, timid, and full of worries, her actions are far from who described as greedy, violent, and attention-seeking. " Alfred also tells him about her business which she asked for permission to keep it running.

"... Keep a close eye on her, her files also said about her good acting. Also, tell the girl, her work can continue but please kept track of it too. " Bruce said then go back to the meal.

The butler gives him a firm nod. ___________ "Uh, I think I need some water, all this language practice makes my throat hurts. " Marinette complain to her little kawmii and start moving towards the dining room, where (on her records) has water.

She expected to walk in an empty room or the butler, not the Wayne who was eating. Luckily for her, no one saw her open the door yet. (Thank god for her habits opening door slowly.) So Marinette does what she thinks was approval, close the door, and walk away, the last thing she wants is to intervene the meal. They probably hate her enough to put her on different dinner time.

"Wow, ain't it feels like home? " Marinette mumbling sarcastically, remembering about all the time she eats all alone. At home, and even at school when Chloé and Adrien got busy. Sighing, she started moving back to her room, so much so for the first day in Gotham.

[boaws]

BOAWS Top Records of 2019

20 – Control Top – Covert Contracts (Get Better)

Sometimes you sit around and you try and think about what makes an album good or why you like it as much as you do and it's not entirely easy to narrow it down to one or two things. Usually there are some distinctive parts or sounds that strike me, but occasionally there are albums like Covert Contracts that bring together a number influences and pull them off quite nicely...and it just simply rips. I guess the three years between their debut EP and this first full-length were well spent refining whatever they were ingesting musically at the time, as what came out is a wild blast of post-punk that spans decades worth of sounds/eras that all fit along snugly next to one another on Convert Contracts. Is it going to reinvent the genre? Absolutely not. But is it kind of dance-able while also trying to smoothly hide that black eyeliner? Yup. It sure is. But it's also really good at doing it too. Control Top - Unapologetic (stream) BUY IT! 19 – Spotlights – Love & Decay (Ipecac)

Spotlights ride the fine line between post-metal and shoegaze, which I'm usually a little weary of because boy oh boy is there a lot of those bands and all those big riffs generally amount to a big old snoozefest. However, Spotlights caught my attention awhile back when their named popped up when playing alongside Hum on one of their many sporadic appearances. Turns out Spotlights weren't too shabby and their album Seismic was a bit of a winner too. They've since released their second album for Ipecac records and it takes the balance between the two aforementioned genres and toes that line even further. Love & Decay tweaks things a bit closer to the metal side of things, but still with some Midwestern flair and creativity in the realm of melody and definitely has the layers to appeal to the shoegaze crowd. Spotlights - Xerox (stream) BUY IT! 18 – Spit-Take – Falling Star (Dead Broke)

Spit-Take have been scattered around these pages plenty of times before, usually good for churning out two or three songs per release that make me appreciate them all that much more. Falling Star would mark their third full-length effort and it's about as consistent of a record that I've heard them release that sees them navigate though a pleasant balance of classic indie-rock/power-pop vibes while also throwing out some very Midwestern-ish clanky emo run throughs (“How”), which is usually always a good way to work your way into my memory. Short and sweet and available on both cassette and LP. Spit-Take - How (stream) BUY IT! 17 – VR Sex – Human Traffic Jam (Dais)

This is basically an alter ego of Andrew Clinco of Drab Majesty, wherein he typically goes by the alias of Deb Demure...here he opts for Noel Skum. I'm taking a guess that it's supposed to reflect the shift into a grimier/noisier side of the dreamy landscape that Drab Majesty typically inhabits. VR Sex contain much of the same undertones of something that Mr. Clinco would be associated with, remaining vastly catchy and rhythmic but now the game is a disassociated future where technology has apparently ruined society and now it gets darker, louder, and muddled in filth. Skum indeed. I'm not so sure the message is as conveyed as the presser would like one to believe, but I enjoy the tunes from a standpoint that it sounds like a slightly more modern Sisters of Mercy, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry or something along those lines. Not bad. I guess Human Traffic Jam will gain another level of appreciation years from now if it ends up hitting the nail on the head and we do in fact find ourselves in some type of Black Mirror episode. VR Sex - Sacred Limousine (stream) BUY IT! 16 – Cave In – Final Transmission (Hydrahead)

The trajectory for Cave In over the years has been one of the more interesting ones. Once a premier metalcore/hardcore band, they pulled the rug out from just about everyone and released their second album Jupiter, which sounded nearly like a different band...showcasing big hooks, melodies, and definitely a large infatuation with space-rock themes. I naturally loved it and was actually kind of excited for some reason when I saw that they had landed on a major label for their third album Antenna. Sadly it didn't go as planned and it was pretty much over after that album came and went without moving the needle a whole lot. Fast forward a handful of years following major label disappointment, the band suffers the tragic loss of bassist Caleb Scofield. The band had been in the process of recording/demoing for their first album in 8 years up until the point of his death and the recordings on Final Transmission are a collection of those. Andrew Schneider and James Plotkin did a nice job in smoothing out some of the rougher edges around what were mostly unfinished recordings, cause honestly I can't really tell in most places and the songs stand on their own for the most part. Final Transmission is, or likely would have been, an album that plants itself right in between Jupiter and Antenna, circling back to some of the spacey atmosphere and guitar tones that fed greatly into both of those albums sound. Possibly the album they would have made if RCA hadn't come knocking? Although it's unknown to me whether this is an actual final statement for the band, if it does indeed end up being that, it's a good'n. Cave In - Night Crawler (stream) BUY IT! 15 – The Bismarck – We Will Never Be Young Again (Self-Released)

The Bismarck have been around long enough to still have an actual website that hasn't been updated in years. As someone who still pays yearly hosting costs for some dumb reason and haven't quite convinced myself not to anymore, I guess I get it...but I know that's gotta be costly. The band is firmly in the PRF rock stable of bands, so that right there should give most of you an idea of what The Bismarck bring to the table. Over a run of what I think is five albums now, We Will Never Be Young Again seems to be an album that wants to prove defiant of its title, coming with full fire and energy and holy shit...anthems? Yeah. A song title like “Fuck You, Let's Boogie” certainly seems like something you could easily write off, but ends up being a bona fide gem of a tune. Solid album all the away around and if it ends up being to your liking, they have a rather deep catalog to pull from if curiosity strikes. The Bismarck - Fuck You, Let's Boogie (stream) BUY IT! 14 – Crumb – Jinx (Self-Released)

First album for the Brooklyn based Crumb and I'd thought I'd heard an EP or something before this, but upon further research, it would appear I hadn't. This introduction is fine enough anyway, wherein they combine that niche of slacker ethos that worked its way through a number of indie bands in the 90's and spin it with a chilled loungy/psych thing. Maybe a tinge of jazz influence here and there, but more or less it sticks to the poppy psych side of it all, leaving for a very breezy and smooth 28 minutes of music. The ambiance, or I guess mood, of Jinx is pretty heavy throughout, likely forcing the album to be something that is relegated to particular times of which it strikes just right, however when it does...it certainly works. Crumb - The Letter (stream) BUY IT! 13 – Razorlegs – Skip Skool (Self-Released)

Latest cassette from this improvisational noise/psych outfit, each side consisting of its own roughly 18 minute long descent into fuzz, pummel and blown amps. Side one is “Transistor Love” and gets things going with a rapid paced drum explosion that contends to outpace the entirety of the track, leaving me seemingly off balance for the duration. There are faint voices coming and going as the track progresses into its squalls of feedback and I'm left to envision that this is to mimic the joys of still using the radio dial (FM mute OFF...no cheaters) and then it promptly ends...picking back up with another steady drum beat that steers pretty much the rest of the track from one critical guitar injury to another. Flip the tape, you have “Skip Skool” and we're off with a death march of drums and the sputtering flare ups of distortion before turning into a full fledged burnt out psych mantra, sounding like it's trying to rip and tear its way off the tape that it was laid on to. Razorlegs - Transistor Love (stream) BUY IT! 12 – Breastmilk – Bliss (Chicago Research)

Chicago Research put out a variety of things this past year that I thought were all very solid in their own uniquely bleak and disturbing way, however Breastmilk kind of wins out of for things to play in the background if you genuinely want someone to be creeped out while being in your house. An interesting take on downtempo, that reaches its grimy fingers into the same head spaces of Throbbing Gristle, Nurse With Wound or the likes. An ebb and flowing bass churn scrapes along for 18 minutes of whatever hellscape this may be, the opener “Transient” using a ring-back tone to voicemail sample to unnerving ability. Not to mention a woman sobbing to the background of glass shattering and various other noises on “Jesus Piece”. Breastmilk provides the soundtrack for the horror, however part of the fun of Bliss is the open ended scenarios of whom and what it's playing for... Breastmilk - Transient (stream) BUY IT! 11 – HTRK – Venus in Leo (Ghostly International)

It sure doesn't feel like it's been roughly five years since HTRK released the excellent Psychic 9-5 Club, but that's the case. Following the death of co-founding member Sean Stewart, HTRK continued forward as a duo and have seen their sound venture further into the electronic world; relinquishing the heavy low end found on early recordings while cold pulses of bass and synth have since flooded over. Remaining consistent has been Jonnine Standish's vocal presence throughout, one that dictates the miscues, misery and loneliness in hushed breathy swoops. On their fourth effort, Venus in Leo, Standish and guitarist Nigel Yang return to the same nighttime introspection of regret, however with Yang's shimmering guitars coming back into play more so than we've heard in quite a while...fading in and out of the background. I kind of miss the heavy minimalism, almost deep-house vibe, that Psychic 9-5 Club had...but melancholy plays out in many different ways...and Venus in Leo seems to be the way HTRK wanted to tackle it this time. No matter, it's still immensely enjoyable. HTRK - Dream Symbol (stream) BUY IT! 10 – Jessica Pratt – Quiet Signs (Drag City)

Funny note, Quiet Signs was one of the first albums of 2019 that I really liked and accordingly I included one of the tunes from it on that respective months mix. My now fiance listened to it and then sent me a picture of the name of the song that was on and simply said “hate this”. Noted. It's OK though, we still love each other. How could you hate something as serene as Quiet Signs? Anyway, Jessica Pratt has been honing in her sound for several years now and took the plunge with her third album to record in a proper studio, which resulted in an album that sounds really far removed from being recorded in a proper studio oddly enough. The sparseness in instrumentation and the dreamlike echoes of Pratt's voice feel like both are in the same room with you, but still somehow a million miles away...or if that I'm not careful enough the whole thing will disappear entirely. It's the indescribable feeling of distance and brief lapses of clarity that make Quiet Signs so beautiful sounding. It comes and goes all too quick however, so I'll be anxiously awaiting the next appearance from Jessica Pratt. Jessica Pratt - This Time Around (stream) BUY IT! 09 – Notches – New Kind of Love (Dead Broke / Salinas)

Was blown away by Notches and their debut record High Speed Crimes around three or so years ago. It was pretty much everything I could ask for in a pop/punk record, bringing plenty of fuzz/distortion and a heaping fuck ton of melody. While New Kind of Love doesn't necessarily register on that same scale with me, it's still a fantastic record from a band that continues to peel off some of the catchiest material within the genre. It being the bands third album and all, it's kind of fun noticing them “growing older” of sorts and moving away from the turned up to “11” mindset. It's about the song now man, I mean it's always been I'm sure, but now it's no longer buried underneath a sheet of distortion. Can't blame them. I entered my listening to public talk radio in the car phase of my life here not too long. Totally feel ya. Give these guys a listen please. Notches - Funny How (stream) BUY IT! 08 – Dry Cleaning – Boundary Road Snacks and Drinks (It's OK)

From the opener “Dog Proposal” Dry Cleaning establishes very quickly that Boundary Road Snacks and Drinks is exhausting. I don't mean that in the negative sense either. The second EP from the UK based post-punk group is merely informing all of you out there that life is just extra fucking exhausting. Because it most certainly is. Singer Florence Shaw takes the six songs on this EP and crams so much of our current day-to-day nonsense in it that I'm basically getting an anxiety attack listening to this sucker. However, the honesty is appreciated and the contradicting jauntiness of some of these tunes is an excellent way to remind that no matter how tired I am that everything else is going to keep rolling as it always has. While there are much bigger issues at hand that Dry Cleaning tackle throughout, it's the debilitation of everything as a whole that Boundary Road Snacks and Drinks really conveys the most. After two excellent samplings from the band, it's pretty terrifying to think of the destruction on my nerves that they could cause with a full-length. Time will hopefully tell. Dry Cleaning - Viking Hair (stream) BUY IT! 07 – Kim Gordon – No Home Record (Matador)

It had never really occurred to me that Kim Gordon had never released a solo album up until this point of her lengthy career. I was kind of blown away by that to be honest. I guess it's just that Thurston Moore seems to fart one out here and there, so I'd assumed Gordon had done the same. However, as it stands, No Home Record is Kim Gordon's first solo effort and completely took me by surprise. Maybe I'd expected it to sound much like her material in Body/Head? I don't know. Or for it to be closer threaded to Sonic Youth? That's unfair, I know, but it is what it is. The good deal is that No Home Record is completely left field of about anything I expected; that takes equal parts no-wave and drags it through the glitch/industrial minefield. Gordon's voice fits right in with it all, adding to the instability and jarring nature of practically everything on this record. I'd never thought I would have wished for a Kim Gordon experimental electronica record, but it's 2020 baby and things are apparently really fucking different now. Fantastic stuff. Kim Gordon - Don't Play It (stream) BUY IT! 06 – Joshua Abrams Natural Information Society – Mandatory Reality (Eremite)

I somehow wish I could have this album playing practically the entire time I'm at work (it's almost long enough), but unfortunately my boss sits perched only a mere few feet away from me to ensure that maximum stress is achieved. Joshua Abrams and the NIC have created an absolutely astonishing collection of work on Mandatory Reality that is likely easier to zone out to than to deliberately ignore. You'll want to, because wherever Mandatory Reality exists, the grass is most certainly greener and I'm frantically waving my ticket to hop aboard whatever space-age craft is going to take me there at any given time. But really more to the actual music, Joshua Abrams and the NIC have laid out 4 slow moving, borderline minimalist, pieces of avant-garde jazz that sooth and calm the bludgeoning attempts of our actual mandatory reality sometimes. It's pretty brilliant and perfectly recorded/captured by Greg Norman. Played on a proper stereo, it's a variety of nuanced sound that demands repeated listens simply on that alone. Joshua Abrams Natural Information Society - Shadow Conductor (stream) BUY IT! 05 – 55 Deltic – You Could Own an American Home (Kingfisher Bluez / Strictly No Capital Letters / Barely Regal)

I love the title of this record so much, because here sometime in the next year we're going to have to start looking for a house and having been through this rodeo once before...I know how utterly dreary that's going to be. The only fun part about it right now, is the non serious part where I'm just cruising Zillow listings at work and seeing the inside of all these cool houses I can't afford. And what better of an idea to center an emo/slowcore record around? In actuality I'm pretty positive that's not what 55 Deltic are even remotely channeling here, but I would imagine there is a definite longing/nostalgia for a time when working towards a successful future was something not increasingly hard to obtain. The songs on You Could Own an American Home weigh heavily through a slow but sturdy pace, that lines up well with bands like Bedhead or Codeine, who both seemed to pull at a lot of the same strings that 55 Deltic are equally bummed out about no longer being commonplace in society. Really enjoyed this one, as it touches upon a lot of the aspects I like about the genre and isn't afraid of getting a little raucous here and there. 55 Deltic - Tangen (stream) BUY IT! 04 – Cherubs – Immaculada High (Relapse)

I guess the rumor of Cherubs signing to Relapse finally came true...albeit for their second album, fourth overall. Not sure why that took so long, but whatever...here we are...Cherubs consuming roster space on the same label that I remember receiving some pretty wild catalogs from years and years ago and lots and lots of pretty bad cover art. Or really good cover art if you were into grindcore. Either way. I guess it makes sense, Cherubs were, and are, fairly extreme in the realms of the noise-rock world, being a band that released one of the true classics in Heroin Man. When they got back together, there was a level of fear that the burden of having to follow that sucker up would be a bit hard to do, but 2 Ynfynyty wiped away any concern of that as I foolishly had mistaken the band as a group of people that would even remotely worry about something like that. The album ended up being nothing short of amazing and sounded like a band that had a little regard as to what they “should” sound like and just made a record that they wanted to. They returned this past year with Immaculada High and did exactly the same thing, producing a record that isn't simply a repeat and pushes their sonic explorations of marrying noise/melody even further into the grandiose murkiness. At this point, I'm calling it good. I mean, this is two more Cherubs albums than I ever thought I would get already, so I'm not really willing to push my luck here. However, if more is to come...then I'm here for it. Cherubs - Full Regalia (stream) BUY IT! 03 – Clear Gash – Replenish (Iniquity)

Knew nothing of Clear Gash when listening to Replenish and still know nothing about Clear Gash. They are from Germany and apparently have a very sparse web presence other than releasing this album on Iniquity Records, which have graciously provided it on their Bandcamp site or in the form of a....CD? Beggars can't be choosers I guess and at least Replenish got out there one way or another. Clear Gash are a bit of an oddity in this day and age, as there just aren't too many people out there really trying to bring murky moodiness of grunge back to the forefront, however that's not too far from what they are attempting on their debut (I'm assuming?) album. It's fuzzy, down tuned and pretty filthy sounding stuff. The interesting part is that they are taking the tone/sound and partially playing it like slowed down hardcore. Odd, but it jams sure enough. The production almost lends a bit of a raw Born Annoying/Strap it On era feel, which is definitely appealing to me. Replenish rips and is a distorted mess of riffage that has sorely gone missing in the past couple or so years for some reason or another. Clear Gash - Ode to Discrepency (stream) BUY IT! 02 – USA/Mexico – Matamoros (12XU / Riot Season)

Considering the players involved that make up USA/Mexico, I would be really really bummed/surprised if they managed to put out a record that was crap. It just doesn't seem possible when bringing together members of Butthole Surfers, Shit & Shine and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth...three very very fine purveyors of completely fried and distinctive noise-rock. So, it's relatively safe to say that Matamoros falls within that same realm of noise and dives deep into the red at the drop of the needle with the title track opener and spots some extra guitar ugliness from Spray Paint member George Dishner, which seems ridiculous that an extra amount of mangled feedback would seem necessary...but listening to Matamoros one gets the sense these fellas operate in a world unbeknownst of limitations. This then segues right into a grossly heavy cover of Cherubs' “Shoofly” with guest vocals by Mr. Kevin Whitley himself. Even he can't really crawl above the heaping amounts of distortion that USA/Mexico uncompromisingly continue to pour on, as his voice is repeatedly swallowed up by the mass. Matamoros carries on much in the same manner for it's duration. “Vaporwave Headache” cranks up the RPM's some and rips through two and a half of minutes of chugging maxed feedback and alien vocals as a possible representation of a vapor wave song if it were dubbed over on the same cassette roughly 400 times and then played at five times the speed. In the end, Matamoros greatly out performs the bands debut Laredo and is essentially the exact product of which could be expected through this collaboration of sorts. Well worth the risk of potential hearing loss. USA/Mexico - Matamoros (stream) BUY IT! 01 – Possible Humans – Everybody Split (Hobbies Galore / Trouble in Mind)

Yeah, this is my kind of thing. I'll never shy away from bands that want to continue hoisting that Homestead/Flying Nun flag and pumping out those type of jams. Possible Humans have apparently been lurking around Melbourne for a handful of years now, playing shows...etc. However, just towards the beginning of last year put out their first full-length through Hobbies Galore and it's been nice to see it gain some traction over the past few months. Enough so that Trouble in Mind picked up the record after the initial pressing of 200 sold out lightning quick. I got hooked after hearing the sprawling psych flavored “Born Stoned”, which despite being eleven minutes long it makes good on every single second of it, masterfully combining the Homestead or Athens sound with something that could have been an absolutely smoking Blue Oyster Cult deep cut. It quite simply rules and will undoubtedly be the best track I hear for a very long time. Definitely not trying to sell the rest of the album short, because Everybody Split is front to back a fantastic listen and piece of work that encapsulates a general feel/sound so well. If you haven't heard it yet, please make this one a priority. Possible Humans - Born Stoned (stream) BUY IT!

[janiedean]

*Roose Bolton voice* I'm dissapointed in you

HEY ANON SORRY FOR THE LATENESS BUT I’M SURE YOU SENT THIS FOR SPRINGSTEEN ANALYSIS, RIGHT? ;) then sure let’s have something! what can I get for you with the roose bolton voice, hm…

OH OKAY LET’S GO BLEAK POLITICAL.

so: SEEDS!

Seeds is an outtake from born in the USA and was only properly published in 1998 when it ended up on tracks (a four-cds compilation of outtakes that still doesn’t even fucking scratch the surface of what he has in the vaults bruce come on take the rest out), but as a lot of other bruce songs that were never technically published on official records it has enjoyed a very lively life on stage/live especially when our man gets political. we should probably put as a premise, other than that, that this was one of bruce’s first political pieces following the vein that would then end up in bitusa, tom joad, youngstown and so on, and as a lot of those songs it focuses on poverty/unemployment in the us of a. it’s not a coincidence that it was out of the bitusa sessions post-nebraska, but then again nebraska was his first record with Serious Political Themes and half of the original songs ended up on bitusa anyway so those records are pretty much tied together.

also, seeds has been a favorite throughout the bitusa tour (the one where bruce dissed reagan) where it was played along the title track, a cover of war that you can find on the live 75-85 box set, johnny 99 and atlantic city. as in, basically it gave you a pretty straight bleak picture of the current times, and it came back with a vengeance post bush-jr and I’m 100% sure it’ll show up again when he tours post-trump.

anyhow, as I think I’ve bored you enough with the technicalities, let’s move on to the actual thing. so, what do we have?

Well a great black river a man had foundSo he put all his money in a hole in the groundAnd sent a big steel arm driving down down downMan now I live on the streets of Houston town

so, we’re starting with a bang. first thing, the song’s title is seeds, which should suggest us that it’s about either agriculture or farmers.

except that it opens saying that ‘a man found a great black river’, and at the end of the stanza we find out that we’re in houston, so presumably around texas, so the black river that then turns into a hole in the ground with a big steel arm driving down down down (which considering the fast rhythm of the song gives you anxiety just hearing it) means that someone found oil and started drilling it in texas and as a consequence the narrator lives in the streets of one of texas’s biggest cities, so we can suppose that this guy was a farmer, he lost his land because of the oil drill and now he’s homeless. NICE START GUYS! but let’s go on.

Packed up my wife and kids when winter came alongAnd we headed down south with just spit and a songBut they said “Sorry son it’s gone gone gone”

next stanza, we find out that our guy has a family that he had to pack up when winter came along, so either his land was dead because of the oil drill or he couldn’t support them anymore out of farming. now, this could either be set in texas or not, but since in the eighties a lot of people from the north who lost their houses or land and used to be farmers or steel workers or so on went to texas because it was said to be someplace they could get jobs (again I know I say it every damned time but if you read dale maharidge’s somewhere like america or journey to nowhere you’ll see exactly what I meant), so either he went to texas from a nearby state or he was in northern texas and went down south, but the point is: he lost his job, he was a farmer (so not in a good position to start from since farming hasn’t made much money for small owners for a while) and now he’s gone to texas with a spit and a song (ie: hope), but as the song’s music keeps on being fairly bleak, the only answer he’s given is ‘sorry but it’s gone, gone, gone’, as in: if he wanted work, there isn’t any.

Well there’s men hunkered down by the railroad tracksThe Elkhorn Special blowing my hair backTents pitched on the highway in the dirty moonlightAnd I don’t know where I’m gonna sleep tonight

If we thought that was bad news, though, we’re just getting started, because not only our dude isn’t the only one in that same situation (men hunkered down by the railroad tracks, referring to the fact that in the eighties a lot of people had started riding trains again like in the great depression so they slept near the railroad - the elkohorn special is the name of a train), in tents along the highway in the *dirty* moonlight which suggests you a fairly bleak, sad picture. also, he doesn’t know where he’s going to sleep tonight, which means he doesn’t even have the tent.

Parked in the lumberyard freezing our asses offMy kids in the back seat got a graveyard coughWell I’m sleeping up in front with my wifeBilly club tapping on the windshield in the middle of the nightSays “Move along man move along”

solution: sleeping in the car, since they don’t have anything else. so, the guy and his family try to sleep in the car in a lumberyard with his children being sick (graveyard cough, suggesting that it’s pretty damned bad), except that they can’t even do that because the police shows up and tells them to leave, which was apparently common practice in texas at the time (again: same thing happened to the reporters in the aforementioned book because they had a car with ohio plates…), so they can’t stay and have to *move along*, but to where? we just don’t know.

so: the guy used to be a farmer, lost his job, went down to texas to look for work with his wife and kids, didn’t find any, was treated like crap and can’t even sleep in his car with his family, the alternative is tents along the highway or a railroad in winter, his kids are sick and there’s no hint of salvation anywhere nor of government help nor… really much of anything.

Well big limousine long shiny and blackYou don’t look ahead you don’t look backHow many times can you get up after you’ve been hit?

now, that’s it for the backstory - we don’t know where the narrator ends up or if he finds work. but we learn his opinion. first of all, he talks to a generic ‘big long shiny black limousine’, which we can automatically assume means that he’s talking to someone rich (or the idea of someone rich) who could afford such a car (he certainly can) accusing them of not looking ahead ( = not seeing the consequences of their greed, which we can tie back to the oil drill in the first part that started our guy’s problems) and of not looking back ( = can mean that they don’t care for who comes behind them in wealth or that they don’t remember not being wealthy or both), and then asks them, how many times can you get up after being hit, as in, how many times could you fall on your feet before you end up like me?

we just don’t know, but probably more than the narrator… though one supposes the narrator is hoping the time comes for them, too. that becomes veery clear in the next part:

Well I swear if I could spare the spitI’d lay one on your shiny chromeAnd send you on your way back home

if he could spare the spit (which suggests he can’t, so maybe they barely even have means to drink and eat) he’d use it to spit on the limousine ie what stands for enormous undeserved wealth that a) the narrator will never obtain, b) caused the (economical) situation that brought the narrator to misery, so we also can see that the narrator is absolutely aware that his poverty is tied with the fact that rich people don’t care for the likes of him and would throw him under the dirt in a second, nor care if he can’t support himself anymore. and then he’d send the rich person back home, if he could. but he can’t.

and that’s bleak enough, but then we get to the last part and it gets possibly worse:

So if you’re gonna leave your town where the north wind blowTo go on down where that sweet soda river flowWell you better think twice on it JackYou’re better off buying a shotgun dead off the rackYou ain’t gonna find nothing down here friendExcept seeds blowing up the highway in the south windMoving on moving on it’s gone gone it’s all gone

at this point, the narrator is addressing someone else - someone named jack who could be anyone as it’s an extremely common name - who might want to go south and tells him not to. going south means leaving a town where the north wind blows (so where it’s cold and there’s nothing for them) to go where that sweet soda river flow which paints an imagery of a river overflowing with sugary refined drink… from which poor people can’t serve themselves anyway, and according to the narrator if that is the plan, then you’re better off buying a shotgun ie killing yourself before you go south because there is nothing down there except seeds blowing up the highway in another type of wind, so the seeds they might have planted back home are getting wasted along the highway people sleep on… and everything is gone and they have nothing left.

and the fact that it’s this bleak is probably why it didn’t end up on the record proper (admittedly bitusa has a slightly different feeling so it probably wouldn’t have fit given that it’s a lot more raw and musically angry than any other song on that record except maybe bitusa but the electric version lures you in with the beat and you don’t realize how angry it is until you hear the original imvho), but it’s sadly a fairly accurate portrayal of how things were going bad economically for all the people laid off without a second chance to find something better in the late 70s-early 80s. too bad that things haven’t changed and this piece has stayed pretty much relevant even these days.

thank you anon with the roose bolton voice, I hope you enjoyed the fruits of your disappointment ;)

[bobdylandreams]

Murder Most Foul

Written by Bob Dylan

Recorded "A while back" (according to the twitter announcement) Released 27 March 2020 and later on Rough And Rowdy Ways Tabbed by Eyolf Østrem

The harmonic rhythm (i.e. the regularity with which the chords change) is very loose, and the placement of the chord symbols in the tab below is approximate, tentative. On several points in the recordings it is evident that the accompaniment is more or less improvised.

Here's an attempt at an analysis of the song, musically and contentswise.

[Verse 1]         C                            F It was a dark day in Dallas, November '63 C                               F A day that will live on in infamy C President Kennedy was a-ridin' high F Good day to be livin' and a good day to die      C Being led to the slaughter like a sacrificial lamb          F He said, "Wait a minute, boys, you know who I am?" G "Of course we do, we know who you are"          Fmaj7 Then they blew off his head while he was still in the car C Shot down like a dog in broad daylight F Was a matter of timing and the timing was right C                                         F You got unpaid debts, we've come to collect                          C                                F We're gonna kill you with hatred, without any respect G We'll mock you and shock you and we'll put it in your face F We've already got someone here to take your place C The day they blew out the brains of the king F Thousands were watching, no one saw a thing C                                              F It happened so quickly, so quick, by surprise F Right there in front of everyone's eyes G Greatest magic trick ever under the sun F Perfectly executed, skillfully done C Wolfman, oh Wolfman, oh Wolfman, howl F                                 C Rub-a-dub-dub, it's a murder most foul [Verse 2] C Hush, little children, you'll understand F The Beatles are comin', they're gonna hold your hand C                                              F Slide down the banister, go get your coat                                       C Ferry 'cross the Mersey and go for the throat G There's three bums comin' all dressed in rags F Pick up the pieces and lower the flags G I'm goin' to Woodstock, it's the Aquarian Age F Then I'll go over to Altamont and sit near the stage C Put your head out the window, let the good times roll F                                   C There's a party going on behind the Grassy Knoll F                                                        [At this point, the string players lose track Stack up the bricks, pour the cement                      of the harmonic rhythm and play a C chord C                                       F                 against the piano's change to F] Don't say Dallas don't love you, Mr. President         G Put your foot in the tank and then step on the gas F Try to make it to the triple underpass G Blackface singer, whiteface clown F Better not show your faces after the sun goes down C                                                            F Up in the red light district, they've got cop on the beat C                                     F Living in a nightmare on Elm Street            C                                               F When you're down on Deep Ellum, put your money in your shoe C                                          F Don't ask what your country can do for you G                                      S Cash on the barrelhead, money to burn G                                F Dealey Plaza, make a left-hand turn C                                                     F I'm going down to the crossroads, gonna flag a ride C                                                       F The place where faith, hope, and charity died G                                                      F Shoot him while he runs, boy, shoot him while you can G                                      F See if you can shoot the invisible man C                                F Goodbye, Charlie, goodbye, Uncle Sam C                                          F Frankly, Miss Scarlett, I don't give a damn G                                         F What is the truth, and where did it go? G                                      F Ask Oswald and Ruby, they oughta know C                                      F "Shut your mouth," said a wise old owl            C                                 F     C Business is business, and it's a murder most foul [Verse 3] C                                         F Tommy, can you hear me? I'm the Acid Queen C                                        F I'm riding in a long, black Lincoln limousine C                                       F Ridin' in the back seat next to my wife       C                                 F Headed straight on in to the afterlife G                                 F I'm leaning to the left, I got my head in her lap G                                          F Hold on, I've been led into some kind of a trap         C                                            F Where we ask no quarter, and no quarter do we give      C                     F We're right down the street, from the street where you live     C                                          F They mutilated his body and they took out his brain     C                                     F What more could they do? They piled on the pain        C                                F But his soul was not there where it was supposed to be at        C                             F For the last fifty years they've been searchin' for that G                                    F Freedom, oh freedom, freedom over me G                                                  F I hate to tell you, mister, but only dead men are free C                                      F Send me some lovin', then tell me no lie C                                       F Throw the gun in the gutter and walk on by C                                       F Wake up, little Susie, let's go for a drive         C                                     F Cross the Trinity River, let's keep hope alive C                                        F Turn the radio on, don't touch the dials C                                       F Parkland Hospital, only six more miles                                                C You got me dizzy, Miss Lizzy, you filled me with lead   F                                        C That magic bullet of yours has gone to my head G                                   F I'm just a patsy like Patsy Cline G                                          F Never shot anyone from in front or behind G                            F I've blood in my eye, got blood in my ear G                                           F I'm never gonna make it to the new frontier C                                   F Zapruder's film I seen night before C                                  F Seen it thirty-three times, maybe more C                                                 F It's vile and deceitful, it's cruel and it's mean C                                     F Ugliest thing that you ever have seen C                                             F They killed him once and they killed him twice C                                 F Killed him like a human sacrifice G                                                        F The day that they killed him, someone said to me, "Son G                                                   F The age of the Antichrist has just only begun" C                                           F Air Force One comin' in through the gate C                          F Johnson sworn in at 2:38 C                                                F Let me know when you decide to throw in the towel C                                      F              C It is what it is, and it's murder most foul [Verse 4] C                                   F What's new, pussycat? What'd I say? C                                          F I said the soul of a nation been torn away C                                            F And it's beginning to go into a slow decay C                                                 F And that it's thirty-six hours past Judgment Day G                                      F Wolfman Jack, he's speaking in tongues G                                            F He's going on and on at the top of his lungs C                                 F Play me a song, Mr. Wolfman Jack                               C Play it for me in my long Cadillac                                 F Play me that "Only the Good Die Young" C                                          F Take me to the place Tom Dooley was hung          C                                            F Play "St. James Infirmary" and the Court of King James       C                                                 F If you want to remember, you better write down the names             C                             F Play Etta James, too, play "I'd Rather Go Blind" C                                           F Play it for the man with the telepathic mind G                                           F Play John Lee Hooker, play "Scratch My Back" G                                          F Play it for that strip club owner named Jack G                           F Guitar Slim going down slow                                 C Play it for me and for Marilyn Monroe [Verse 5] C Play "Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" F Play it for the First Lady, she ain't feeling any good C Play Don Henley, play Glenn Frey F Take it to the limit and let it go by C Play it for Carl Wilson, too F Looking far, far away down Gower Avenue C Play "Tragedy", play "Twilight Time" F Take me back to Tulsa to the scene of the crime G Play another one and "Another One Bites the Dust" F Play "The Old Rugged Cross" and "In God We Trust" G Ride the pink horse down that long, lonesome road F Stand there and wait for his head to explode C Play "Mystery Train" for Mr. Mystery F                                   C The man who fell down dead like a rootless tree F Play it for the reverend, play it for the pastor C                               F Play it for the dog that got no master C                               F Play Oscar Peterson, play Stan Getz    C                              F Play "Blue Sky," play Dickey Betts G Play Art Pepper, Thelonious Monk F                           G Charlie Parker and all that junk F All that junk and "All That Jazz" C                                        F Play something for the Birdman of Alcatraz C                   F Play Buster Keaton, play Harold Lloyd          C                              F Play Bugsy Siegel, play Pretty Boy Floyd G                                  F Play the numbers, play the odds      G                                       F Play "Cry Me a River" for the Lord of the gods C                                 F Play Number nine, play Number six C                           F Play it for Lindsey and Stevie Nicks C                                      F Play Nat King Cole, play "Nature Boy"     C                                       F Play "Down in the Boondocks" for Terry Malloy         G                                      F Play "It Happened One Night" and "One Night of Sin"        G                                           F There's twelve million souls that are listening in     G                                              F Play "Merchant of Venice", play "Merchants of Death"     G                                     F Play "Stella by Starlight" for Lady Macbeth C                          F ��                                     [Finally, a fixed rhythm Don't worry, Mr. President, help's on the way                      is established, sortof     C                                            F                but then Dylan decides Your brothers are comin', there'll be hell to pay                  to mess it up again; C                                                F                 the chords no longer follow Brothers? What brothers? What's this about hell?                   the established pattern] C Tell them, "We're waiting, keep coming," we'll get them as well G                                       F Love Field is where his plane touched down G                                      F But it never did get back up off the ground                   G                      F Was a hard act to follow, second to none                      G                       F They killed him on the altar of the rising sun C                             F Play "Misty" for me and "That Old Devil Moon"      C                             F Play "Anything Goes" and "Memphis in June"                    C                        F Play "Lonely at the Top" and "Lonely Are the Brave" C                                             F Play it for Houdini spinning around in his grave C                            F Play Jelly Roll Morton, play "Lucille" C                                       F Play "Deep in a Dream", and play "Driving Wheel" G                                  F Play "Moonlight Sonata" in F-sharp      G                                        F And "A Key to the Highway" for the king on the harp     C                                                  F Play "Marching Through Georgia" and "Dumbarton's Drums"     C                                             F Play "Darkness" and death will come when it comes      C                                           F Play "Love Me or Leave Me" by the great Bud Powell       C                                           F Play "The Blood-Stained Banner", play "Murder Most Foul"            

[imagining-supernatural]

As It Seems: Chapter 17

Table of Contents

Según Parece: Lista De Contenidos

Summary: You and Dean finally get to his apartment where you find that you’re not alone

Word Count: 2915

Warnings: None

Beta’d by: @kclaire1

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

~Dean’s POV~

“Oh, baby I’ve missed you.” My fingers danced over the cool metal of the gorgeous Impala in front of me. It was as if I could hear the comforting, familiar rumble of her engine even as she sat in the reserved stall in the parking garage. She was just itching to get on the road again, and I was itching to be behind her wheel.

“I think I’ll give you two some alone time,” Y/N said with a small, tired smile. After two days of driving and an interlude to a hotel where not much sleeping happened at all, if you get my drift, we were both exhausted.

But I’d missed my car too much to head straight up to my apartment.

“Okay. I’ll see you up there. The code for the alarm is—”

“Dude. I’m your assistant. I had that system installed. If the alarm gets tripped, it’s set up for the company to call me before they call you. Just enjoy your car.”

“Right.” It was hard to figure out exactly how the dynamics between the two timelines fit in. In this one, we just barely started dating. In the other one, I’d been ready to marry her. But in this one, she was my assistant for longer that we’d been dating. As my assistant, she obviously knew my alarm codes, but since we just started dating in this one, it seemed kind of weird that she would practically have a key to my place. But we were also going to get married.

Thinking about the timelines made my head hurt.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be asleep.” I didn’t doubt that one bit. She came over and gave me a brief kiss. “G’night, babe.”

I watched her walk to the elevators, the slight slump in her shoulders and lethargic movements of her legs showing just how tired she was. I briefly thought about the threat of Crowley or the dark government organization that we faced, but forced myself to relax. If someone was waiting for her, she could handle them, even as tired as she obviously was. That was just one of the many reasons I loved her.

And turning my attention back to my first love, I unlocked the doors and slid into the front seat. Just curling my fingers around the steering wheel seemed to center me and the stress from the last week seemed so far away. Memories from both timelines crowded in my head. Whether the memory was driving my baby towards a hunt, or driving her up to a black-tie event among all of the limousines that couldn’t hold a candle to her, I loved her just the same.

My impala, my brother, and my girl were the only constants between the timelines. As long as I had all three, I could handle anything life threw my way.

After a few more minutes of sitting in the heavy silence of the underground garage, I made my way upstairs. There was going to be a shit storm of things to handle at work tomorrow, but I was reunited with my car and I was going to wake up next to Y/N. I couldn’t ask for more.

The elevator door slid open silently, but my apartment wasn’t silent when I walked in. Y/N’s voice drew me towards the hallway with the bedroom. Was she on the phone? I thought she was going to go straight to sleep.

“No, no. It’s totally fine. You guys stay in the guest room. I was going to sleep with Dean in his room anyway—but not like, sleep with, sleep with. Not tonight, anyway, because it’s really late and we have to catch up at work tomorrow but—Dean!” She caught sight of me when I rounded the corner and cut off her exhausted babbling. I tilted my head at her in question for a second before I noted the other two people in the hallway. “Your parents are here.”

Oh.

Yeah.

“Shit, I forgot. You guys are here for that work conference, right, mom?” I covered the distance between us in two short steps and gathered my mom into my arms, holding on tightly.

She wasn’t dead here. She was very much alive and raised me and Sam and wasn’t killed by the yellow-eyed bastard.

God, it felt so good to hug her.

“I called you Sunday night when we showed up and you weren’t here. You told me that you were at Bobby’s with your team for a few days, remember?” She pulled back and looked up at me with a concerned and confused expression. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

This was definitely not an encounter I had planned for yet. It was like all of my timelines and realities and fantasies and nightmares were colliding. I dragged a hand down my face and tried to get the blood flowing again so I would stay awake long enough to explain everything to them.

“Yeah, sorry. We just drove two days straight and it was a stressful few days before that. It slipped my mind.” I avoided mentioning the bullet wound. Figured that wouldn’t help my mom sleep too well tonight.

“Seems like you forgot to mention to Y/N here that we were staying here too.” Dad pulled me in for a hug and I had the feeling that he was watching Y/N over my shoulder.

“No, no,” she quickly jumped in. “I actually bought your airplane tickets and Dean said not to get you a hotel room because you would be staying with him. I just… forgot too. It’s been a crazy few days.”

What an understatement.

“I’ll say,” my dad insinuated, linking me and Y/N with a meaningful look and waiting for an explanation.

Well, guess I should get this over with. “Mom, dad… Y/N and I are together.”

Y/N must have seen the calculating and doubtful look from my dad because she jumped in to clarify. Well, try to clarify anyway. She was great at handling her sleep deprivation in the professional workplace, but it seemed like a personal conversation with her boyfriend’s parents was a little out of reach.

“Like, dating-together. Not just sleeping together. Though, I mean, that’s also—shit, I really should shut up now.”

Thankfully, to balance out my dad’s dubiousness, my mom simply looked amused. “Sounds like you two could use a solid few hours of sleep before we get the full story.”

“Oh, God, yes,” Y/N breathed thankfully. I reached behind me and grabbed her hand. Just that small movement upset her balance and she took half a step forward to lean against me. “Sleep is all I can think about right now.”

“Then we should let you two get to it. We’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.” Mom didn’t phrase it like a question. I nearly argued that Y/N and I would have to go into the office early to get things done, but I knew I would get nowhere. Mom had latched onto the news that her playboy son might be settling down with one woman, and she wasn’t going to let me go that easily. I would bet that she was already imagining what her grandkids would look like.

Kids.

Shit.

Y/N and I could actually start a family here and not worry about demons, angels, or monsters using the kids as bait or weapons against us.

I have no idea what kind of look was on my face when I looked at her, but it was enough to break through her exhaustion and make her tilt her head. “What?”

“Nothing,” I quickly shook my head and tried to shake the image of a little Y/N or Dean Jr. But that wasn’t an image that seemed to be leaving my head anytime soon. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed. I’ll talk to my parents for a few more minutes.”

Relief flooded her eyes and she looked beyond me to where mom and dad were watching us very closely. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. Sleep well.”

“You too, Y/N. It really is good to see you again,” mom said with a smile.

Dad just nodded. I knew it was his personality to be cautious around people, and I knew that I didn’t have the best track record when it came to woman and real relationships, but it bugged me how he looked at Y/N like she wasn’t going to stick around much longer.

So when she took a few steps towards my bedroom door and her hand slipped out of mine, I decided to hell with it and stopped her just before she could disappear into the safety of the room. One of my hands landed on her hip and the other one rested on her jaw to guide her lips up to mine. Even that brief kiss sent shock waves through my body.

“I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

She glanced behind me at my parents for a second before returning her eyes to mine. “Take your time. I’ll be fine.”

She slipped into my room—our room. Our room.

“So, this thing between you two is pretty serious, then?” Dad’s gruff voice drew me away from the closed door.

“I’m going to marry her.”

Okay, so there was probably a better way to break the news to them. I could have probably been more tactful, given them more time to get used to the idea that I was in a serious relationship, tell them that Y/N was moving in first, before throwing that bomb on them, but I was quickly finding that holding in how I felt about Y/N wasn’t easy. I wanted the world to know.

*****

~Reader’s POV~

“That son of mine still asleep?” John’s gruff voice startled me out of my pre-coffee haze.

“Huh? Oh, no. He’s in the shower.”

John just inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Good. Don’t want him lazing around.”

That very nearly made me laugh. Dean lazing around? Sure, he enjoyed a drink often enough. And sure, he was known for sleeping around his fair share. But being lazy? He was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company, and some secret vigilante on the side. Lazy was only in Dean’s dictionary when he was sick, which had only happened once in the year that I’d known him in this timeline.

“So, Y/N. Why are you with my son?”

It was a good thing that I hadn’t taken a drink of my coffee yet because I would have definitely choked on it. I hadn’t been expecting the interrogation until breakfast when all four of us were sitting down.

“Excuse me, what?”

“Is it for his money? His status?”

That’s what John thought about me? Sure, I wasn’t the best person. And I definitely wasn’t even close to being a good person in the other timeline. But to make assumptions like that?

I thought back to Dean’s declaration after I escaped to his room and decided to eavesdrop for a few more minutes. He’d just come right out and told his parents that he was going to marry me. No build-up, nothing. Just a slap in the face with the truth.

Well, maybe that’s what I needed to do. I needed to gather the confidence that had been shredded since I got my memories from the other timeline and start acting like I was good enough for Dean. Because like Sam said, we act like we are, then eventually we become it.

“I love him. I am in love with your son, John. He’s the best man I have ever known. If he lost everything today, I would still marry him. I would run out to the nearest courthouse and marry him today, if we could.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Dean said from the doorway. He strolled over and wrapped his arm around my waist, dipping his head long enough to peck me on the cheek. “Let’s just forget work and go to the courthouse today.”

With his hair a shade darker from the shower and the intoxicating scent of his body wash surrounding him, it was more tempting than he knew. Hell, if we weren’t in this timeline, I would be dragging him out of here.

But we were in this timeline.

“We can’t rob your mom of helping plan her oldest kid’s wedding,” I pointed out, trying to push away the uncomfortable feeling that was creeping in with John’s eyes on me and his son. I was good enough for Dean. John might not think so, and I might not completely believe it, but we would both have to get over that. Because I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Plus I think Addy wouldn’t be too happy if she couldn’t be the flower girl, right?”

Warmth flooded me, washing away the cold doubt from a few moments before. “Right. We gotta get her and my brother out here first.”

“Addy?” John asked.

“My niece. She’s the cutest kid ever.”

“Until I get some grandkids, right?” Mary asked, making quite the entrance.

Once again, I was glad I hadn’t taken a drink of coffee yet. Grandkids? I was trying to forget that I’d killed a daughter in the other timeline. I was trying to believe that I was good enough to marry Dean. I was trying to figure out how to balance my life. And grandkids? What?

“Patience, mom,” Dean’s fingers pressed into my hip reassuringly. “We’ve gotta get hitched first.”

“I gotta have my coffee first,” I mumbled just as the coffee pot finished. I untangled myself from Dean’s arm and poured myself a big mug full of the miracle bean juice.

“You mind pouring some for this old man too?”

I grabbed another mug for John. “Not at all. Mary?”

“I’m fine, but thank you, Y/N.” She leaned against the counter by John and eyed me up and down, no doubt trying to figure out if I had the right hips to bear her bow-legged grandchildren.

Kids.

Honestly.

Before I could delve too deep into the issue, which would inevitably lead to me reliving the dark days from the other timeline with my daughter, I poured the two mugs of coffee and handed one to John. Just after I took my first drink, Dean stole the mug from my hand and took a long drag.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“You didn’t ask me if I wanted one, so I figured you wanted to share.” God, that infuriatingly attractive smirk made it difficult to argue.

“You should know better than to steal a girl’s coffee.”

“But you’re my girl.” As if that made it better.

I fixed him with my best arched eyebrow boy you thought look as I snatched the mug back. “I won’t be for much longer if you keep stealing my coffee.”

He grinned and held up his hands in a playful surrender. Walking around me towards the cupboard with the mugs, he kissed my forehead as he passed. To think that just a few days ago I had been pushing him away. If I’d been successful, I wouldn’t have felt the sparkling bubbles dancing through my veins at his little gestures of affection like that.

“So, I was thinking we could get breakfast at Ralph’s,” Dean said as he poured himself some coffee. “Good food. Quick service. And it’s right down the street from our work, so we can spend a few extra minutes with you guys without feeling guilty or too rushed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mary chimed in and I had to bite my tongue to stop from snarking at John about how responsible and not lazy Dean was, no matter what he still though of his oldest son.

With our plans finalized and coffee in most of our systems, Dean and I headed to his room—our room, to finish getting ready, and John and Mary headed to the guest room.

As soon as we were alone, Dean turned to me with bright eyes. “Call your brother. See if he and Addy can come this weekend. I’ll pay for their flights, they can stay at your place, I’ll get Sam out here. We can get married this weekend.”

So maybe the coffee hadn’t quite kicked in, because I probably wasn’t hearing him correctly. “You want to pull off a wedding in one week? Dean, it’s Saturday. We’re going to be working practically non-stop for the entire weekend and most of next week just to catch up on the last week!”

“So? I’m sure mom will stay to help plan it. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just our families in a church. We can have a bigger ceremony in a few months with the photographers and flowers and dress and tux and guests. But I just… I want to get married now. I don’t want to wait.”

Was he feeling the same urgency that I was? All of this talk of timelines must have made my internal systems go on the fritz because I was losing track of time and feeling the weight of it so much more acutely.

But maybe he was right. Why put off a wedding? We were going to get married anyway. And both of us seemed to only want our family there so…

“Okay. I’ll call him. But you’re going to tell your parents that we’re getting married only a week after they found out that we’re dating.”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[misspandalily]

call me, beep me, if ya wanna reach me

Week 1 prompt: Missions, "let me hold your hands for a second", rivals or friends.

Response: Kim Possible AU (!!!), and also happy birthday Neji!

Read on: AO3 | FFN

He's the most infuriating, self-entitled, pompous, insensitive duckweed she's met since that freshman Sasuke Uchiha accidentally knocked her over while making out with Naruto and didn't apologise for it. To this day, she still throws them eyedaggers whenever they pass her in the hallways - and let it be known that Teen Superhero Tenten's projectiles always manage to hit their target.

Only this time, the collaborator isn't gay and certainly doesn't have the bad-boy aura of Sasuke - he looks like one of those Japanese dolls put out on display every New Year, with his smooth black hair, porcelain complexion and his stupid, stupid ever-present smirk.

Lee, her very competent crime-fighting partner, insists that this rival of theirs is the epitome of youth that everyone - especially her, being a young individual who isn't getting any younger - should aspire to be, so she really shouldn't aim to impale him like Vlad Tepes did to his captured prisoners every time their companies put them together to defeat the same villain.

And here's the thing: she and Lee are fine working together. Their track record is amazing! It's just that their agencies seem to be under the impression that she, Lee and Neji are bloody unstoppable.

Tch, yeah right. Every time Neji "I work alone" Hyuga joins in, they argue over whichever method should be used to defuse bombs, or how to throw a grappling hook onto the ledge of a building, or why C4 should be used to demolish a secret lair instead of the good old, tried-and-true petroleum smothered by fire. Certainly not teamwork-worthy enough for how much praise they get as a three-person unit. And really, who even cares if they've cracked down on some of the hugest villains in the 'biz when they can't stand the sight of each other in real life?

Team Guy and Hyuga Corps, apparently. And the entire world's media.

Okay, fine. Objectively, it makes perfect sense to team them up. Neji is the perfect complement to her long range, weapons-based attacks. He can block just about any manoeuvre and has amazing foresight to boot. And while they're busy securing mission grounds and planning out attack formations, Lee's usually the one who charges forth and offsets their overbearing need for meticulous planning by being so characteristically straightforward. It's usually him who manages to save the day in the most bizarre, out-of-the-box way possible.

But that aspect of their teamwork is where Tenten draws the metaphorical line. She is thoroughly and genuinely disheartened and disapproving of the notion of working with Neji Hyuga, whose agency is overly-reliant on the latest gadgets and are so, so pompous. She's an old school kind of girl who isn't afraid to mix and match with new-age technology, which is often the point of ire between her and Neji whenever they see each other (which, despite how many times she prays to Kami, is often).

At least they don't attend the same high school, because that would be the perfect recipe for a disaster. According to the research that Tenten 100% does not carry out by means of covert surveillance (she totally did stalk him, not that she'll ever admit that to Lee, but it was that one time!), Neji spends his days lounging around the posh gardens of Konoha's Academy for Gifted Individuals, moves to different classes in a private limousine because the campus is that huge, and drinks water out of golden goblets, or something. It's a stark contrast to the more...rustic environment of Konoha High but money doesn't buy happiness, so Tenten's absolutely sure that the amount of privilege that surrounds Neji is proportional to the internal conflict raging on in that tiny, tiny lump of coal that is his heart.

He should be, because just last week he actually stepped aside for her to defuse a bomb and delivered sound advice as she did it - it only took them ten seconds! And the other day Neji steadied her bleeding arm when she threw the grappling hook and carried her in his arms as they ascended the building. That's not all - the guy even let her pour petrol over Orochimaru's latest machine and set fire to it right after they jumped to safety on a helicopter.

What a prick.

Always holding open doors and spontaneously meeting her outside school gates when the day ends and escorting her home during the winter when it's cold and dark (although that took some time getting used to) and making sure she's uninjured and bandaging her when she is. Look, she didn't ask to be bandaged and she didn't ask for him to hold her hand up to administer first aid, never requested for him to make her blush, and he went ahead and did it anyway. None of those occurrences were pre-approved by Tenten so really, she shouldn't have been worried yesterday when he fell off a cliff during a mission.

Except she totally was. Lee was busy fighting off goons and she'd just received a lovely slice to her bicep when Neji was pushed by a thug the size of Mt Everest. It set off about a million triggers in her head - she recalled seeing red and throwing something at the guy's legs and trunk, and then she'd sprinted to the edge of the cliff and fired a grappling hook at the air just beside Neji, which he grabbed on to at the cable end and vaulted himself to safety with at the last second.

Tenten had started crying, and hugging and speaking gibberish - but that could easily be interpreted as concern.

.

Who was she kidding?

.

.

.

"You're early," Neji's leaning against his usual gate-area when she reaches the exit, a smile gracing the curve of his lips when she greets him. "And your arm is covered expertly, as per usual," he gets close to but doesn't touch the part of her right arm they both know is sliced through like butter and stitched up like a patchwork quilt. She consciously pulls at the edge of her jumper sleeve and shrugs.

"Yeah, I was discharged a few hours ago. Came to school to submit my assignment."

"The one on the physics of the Pyramids of Giza?"

"The very same," Tenten grins and taps at her temple lightly. "It took a few brain cells to pump out, but let's just say the aliens were involved."

They reach their usual bus stop - a crossroads between her small suburban home and Neji's castle - and take a seat. Tenten throws her bag down and slumps against the wall with an agonised groan. Neji's lips perform a funny little smirk and all too soon, she's plagued with the image of his body being flung off a cliff and her subsequent sobbing.

It's a topic they haven't broached since then, even though they've had a debriefing at HQ and silently helped bandage each other up afterwards. She's hoping they'll be able to come to a mutual understanding and psychic agreement like they usually do but as Neji has been as unpredictable as Lee is lately, Tenten's hopes aren't fulfilled.

"Thank you," his voice is barely louder than a mumble, "For saving my life."

Tenten feels something lodge in her throats and coughs a few times, drawing his attention. She tries not to blush at the intensity of his gaze but (probably) fails. "You would've done the same for me."

"I would have," he smiles kindly, "But I wasn't sure if you reciprocated until last night."

Good Kami, does she really come off as that horrible?

Tenten fingers the edge of her sleeve again and leans her head back against the wall of the bus stop. Then again, she had been swearing eternal rival-tude to Neji prior to last night's mission, only to do a complete 180-flip and save his arse the next day - so. That changes things. "I guess we don't always do what we think when the time calls for it. I mean I thought I hated your guts, but obviously I don't anymore and I really don't know when that even changed?" A bus that's probably Neji's route home pulls into the station but he doesn't get on. "I mean, in between saving the world and trying to submit that stupid assignment, I probably realised inwardly that there are other things to channel my hate into - and the fact that you stopped being a twat helped, like heaps." She finishes off her speech when Neji starts doing this strange, ear-splitting grin that makes her voice stop in its tracks and all of a sudden she feels like smashing her head through the glass.

"You mean," Neji says, grin still fixed firmly in place, "You like me now."

"No!" She flushes, crossing her hands before her for emphasis, "I just don't severely dislike you now - enough to save your life."

"Oh, okay," he turns back to watching buses departing and cars avoiding potholes, still beaming, "Well I don't severely dislike you either."

"Good," Tenten says with an air of finality, "Because if you did, that would be awkward."

"Anything for the missions," he smirks.

"Exactly my point," she agrees vehemently. "Can't save the world otherwise." It's her bus's turn to tumble into the station, prompting Tenten to jump to her feet a little faster than one would consider normal (but she isn't just a normal teen, so she considers this matter obsolete), and make a grab at her bag.

"Here, I'll help." Neji swipes up the bag after she makes a miserable attempt of trying to haul it up. "Your arm needs time to rest," he elaborates as she shoots him an affronted glare because how dare he assume she's not strong enough, and then holds his arm out for her to embark onto the bus.

Tenten decides not to look the gift horse in the mouth and boards, the fingers of her swinging arms brushing against Neji's outstretched hand lightly. "Um, thanks," she says as he plops down into the seat beside her, oddly close for the amount of space that's available for them, "You should probably let yourself rest too, near-death experience and all."

"I'm fine," he replies reassuringly, "An angel saved me."

Her heart suddenly performs a pirouette in her chest cavity, it's as disarming as it sounds, and she stares out of the window with her eyes popped open. By all means, Tenten is no stranger to receiving compliments, especially considering her line of work, but such things are essentially unheard of where Neji is concerned.

The logical thought-processes of her brain currently on autopilot, she reacts by pursing her lips into a smile and grinning up at him like an idiot. She feels the apples of her cheeks heating up to volcanic temperatures when Neji dips his head down and whispers something sounding exactly like, "When I met you, I thought you were Heaven on earth."

The fuses in her head wire back together, but in the wrong location, because, "And then I started talking."

Neji chuckles. "I could read the profanities off of your face. They were quite impressive."

"I'm glad. For a while I was worried you didn't get the memo." The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her head back to the window, hiding her mortification from Neji's view. Had she just…flirted back? With Neji Hyuga? Without trying to strangle him?

There's a sudden bump in the road that sends them into the air for a microsecond, and then she feels his hand covering the top of her hand. Tenten's still wide-eyed at the window when she realises this. Should she move her hand away? He hasn't, yet - and she's assertive, damn it! A few days ago, the slightest skin contact with him would've sent him careening to the other side of the bus!

A pregnant pause ensues, during which her brain flat-wires again, and Neji apparently decides to nudge her palm around and rest his fingers in between hers. She tilts her head down slightly to look at their intertwined hands, tan patterned against a pale white, and pushes a rising sea of panic to the back of her mind. Her fingers curl forwards and find refuge on top of his knuckles.

It feels…nice.

[shakib-posts]

Best New Music This Week: Pop Smoke, Lil Baby, RMR, and More

After taking a break from major releases out of respect for the Black Lives Matter Movement last week, artists slowly rolled out new music over the past few days. Lil Baby released a new protest anthem in response to the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and others, addressing police brutality and racism. Pop Smoke’s estate released the Rowdy Rebel-assisted “Make It Rain,” the lead single from his forthcoming posalbum. Buddy dropped an unapologetic track about Black culture, and RMR has made his grand introduction with his debut EP, Drug Dealing Is A Lost Art.

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Here is the best new music of the week. And to keep up with all of the latest music drops, follow our playlist on Spotify here.

Pop Smoke f/ Rowdy Rebel, “Make It Rain”

The first single from Pop Smoke’s posthumous album is here. On “Make It Rain,” Pop spits about not being able to trust people, as he leans into a rapid-fire flow. “I make it rain, that Woo weather/Bitch, I’m a dog, a blue devil/I got the hoes like Hugh Hefner,” he raps. The track also includes a verse from Rowdy Rebel, who is currently incarcerated. The record’s interlude reveals that Rowdy recorded his verse over a prepaid collect call, but the audio is pretty clear as he raps, “I got the call behind the wall that it’s still it it, then fuck it.” “Make It Rain” will appear on Pop Smoke’s debut album, which was delayed due to nationwide protests following the murder of George Floyd.

Lil Baby, “The Bigger Picture”

Lil Baby is getting political as he addresses the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor on his latest track. “Bigger Pictures” opens with news clips reporting on the protests that have spread across the nation in response to Floyd and Taylor’s deaths. Listeners can also hear protesters chanting “I can’t breathe,” Floyd’s last words, before diving into a verse about police brutality and corruption. “It’s too many mothers that’s grieving/They killing us for no reason/Been going on for too long to get even/Throw us in cages like dogs and hyena,” he raps. Lil Baby’s protest song should come as no surprise, as it arrives just days after the rapper was spotted at a protest in Atlanta on June 8, where he led a crowd on bicycles (as seen in the song’s cover art).

RMR, “Nouveau Riche”

“Nouveau Riche” is another melodic track from RMR that finds the masked newcomer singing about finding fame and fortune. “Now I got the life I wanted/Hopin’ I don’t fuck it up and make mistakes, I’m just human,” he sings over the ISM-produced beat. He also sings about what his “new money” has afforded him, including a Patek Phillippe watch, all-white Rolls Royce Ghost, and a spot in Beverly Hills. “Nouveau Riche” is the third song on RMR’s debut EP, Drug Dealing Is A Lost Art, which dropped Friday.

Buddy, “Black 2”

On “Black 2” Buddy is unapologetic as he calls out people who love Black culture, but don’t respect Black people. “Everybody wanna rap on beats/Everybody wanna eat watermelon and fried chicken/But sorry it's a black thing,” he raps. He later discusses people who wear dreads and girls who tan to get darker skin. Some of the lyrics are bound to cause a debate, but it doesn’t sound like Buddy is worried. “I don’t give a fuck, I said the shit,” he declares.

DaBaby f/ Roddy Ricch, “Rockstar BLM Remix”

After it hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 this week, DaBaby and Roddy Ricch are back at it again with the Black Lives Matter remix of “Rockstar.” On the track, DaBaby discusses his multiple run-ins with the police saying, “Cops wanna pull me over, embarrass me/Abusin' power, you never knew me, thought I was arrogant/As a juvenile, police pulled their guns like they scared of me.” Roddy shares a similar experience, recalling a time the police stopped him at a gas station. “Rockstar BLM Remix” joins several new protest songs that speak out against police brutality in the wake of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd’s murders.

Teyana Taylor f/ IMAN, “Wake Up Love”

“Wake Up Love” is a gentle R&B ballad that finds Teyana Taylor joining forces with her husband Iman Shumpert. On the track, Teyana pulls Iman close as they lie together in bed. “But I just need you holdin’ me/Show me some attention/I want you to wake up love,” she sings. Iman comes in later, spitting, “I’d save you from a burnin’ building/I wear the burns as gold medals, turn you on to remember.” In addition to the couple’s union on wax, Teyana dropped an accompanying music video, which reveals she is expecting their second child.

Chloe x Halle, “Forgive Me”

Don’t be fooled by the title. Chloe x Halle aren’t asking for forgiveness on “Forgive Me.” Instead, they are singing about moving on and taking their power back after a failed relationship. “Give me back all my time/So forgive me, no, not really,” Halle sings. In addition to their empowering lyrics written by Nija Charles, Chloe x Halle’s sultry and soothing melodies over Sounwave’s bass-filled beat is what will make this a fan favorite. “Forgive Me” appears on the sister duo’s second studio album Unglodly Hour, which dropped Friday.

NLE Choppa, “Shotta Flow 5”

NLE Choppa is keeping his “Shotta Flow” series going with the fifth installment. Similar to the previous tracks, “Shotta Flow 5” includes a stripped-down beat with heavy piano keys, courtesy of producers Xavi and Payday. On the track, which only has one verse, NLE raps about guns and his rapper lifestyle. “Shotta Flow 5” comes shortly after NLE dropped “Different Day,” which was a remix of Lil Baby’s “Emotionally Scarred.”

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Kaash Paige, “Jaded”

“Jaded” is a moody track from Kaash Paige that finds the songbird blending smooth R&B sounds with hazy production. On the track, she sings about getting faded, although it’s less clear whether her intoxicated state is due to a wild romance or the “pills and potions.” “Now you got me jaded/I’m in this room, hella I’m faded,” she sings. “Jaded” is one of those late-night records that you can vibe out to while lying on the floor in the dark.

Chucky73 f/ Fivio Foreign, “Nili

Bronx-based artist Chucky73 teamed up with Brooklyn’s Fivio Foreign for an explosive new record. On “Nili,” Chucky73 weaves in and out of Spanish and English lyrics as he raps about getting to the bag. Fivio feels right at home, gliding over the drill beat. His verse isn’t very long, but he still manages to leave an impression.  “We got a problem we shoot up the party,” Fivio spits. Earlier this year, it was revealed that Chucky73’s label Sie7etr3 The Label entered into a distribution deal with Caroline Records, so we could be seeing a lot more from the Bronx artist in the coming months.

Tyla Yaweh f/ Post Malone, “Tommy Lee”

After announcing the single back in May, Tyla Yaweh finally released his new collaboration with Post Malone this month. “Tommy Lee” is a soft trap song with melodic flows and vocals. On the track, Tyla and Post make references to Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee and his bad boy lifestyle. “I'm livin' life like a rockstar/Pullin' up, stretch limousines/To look at me, that cost a fee,” Tyla raps on the chorus. Post slides in on the third verse with b

[mokatechgq-blog]

Overlooked sound organizations: The flexi circle The shoddy, lightweight "Soundsheet" once graced magazine covers in its millions.

The flexi circle has, for a physically feeble arrangement, a staggeringly various foundation, and its story consolidates everybody from the Beatles, David Bowie, and ABBA, to Alice Cooper and substantial metal. As far as retail it sprung up with National Geographic, in a million-dollar McDonalds crusade, and on the fronts of various adolescent magazines. It wound up squeezed into illicit underground market X-beams in the Soviet Union, and even helped the prominent liar Richard "Dubious Dicky" Nixon move toward becoming US president in 1968

Flexi plates (not "flexidiscs") sold in their many millions amid the 60s, 70s, 80s, and the mid 1990s—preceding for all intents and purposes vanishing from the substance of the earth for 10 years and a half. In any case, as befits an item in view of a ceaseless winding scratch, that was not exactly the end...

Other "melodic postcards"— rough furrows squeezed into card—had been around and offering erratically since route in 1950. What's more, some vinyl flexi circles appeared in Britain in the last 50% of the 1950s, albeit the vast majority of these were of extremely low quality, in fact talking. The refined flexi plate was created, protected, and presented by the American organization Eva-Tone Incorporated a couple of years after the fact, in 1962, and was at first called "the Eva-tone Soundsheet." This new child on the piece had a few favorable circumstances over its "folks": the singing postcard and the first winding stylus-groove item we know as the vinyl record.

Eva-tone's Soundsheet flexi without a doubt sounded superior to the card forms that went before it, and since flexis utilized just a small amount of the measure of vinyl that consistent records did, it implied that they were far less expensive to press, store, and transport. Frequently the procedure really included polyvinyl chloride instead of pelleted vinyl, which made it less expensive still. On top of this, the way that these items were really adaptable implied they could be sold on the fronts of or inside magazines, booklets, and daily papers. They were genuinely solid, as well, not at all like the 78rpm shellac circles which could without much of a stretch crack into pieces if dropped from, say, a seat, or vinyl 45s which, while more grounded than shellac pressings, could likewise be snapped unintentionally.

One slight issue

It appeared like a win-win circumstance at the same time, as with its quick British antecedents, there were dependably a couple of downsides with Eva-tone's flexi circle. For a certain something, 12-inch or even 10-inch LPs were difficult to make on the grounds that flexis were so lightweight: a regular flexi circle single or EP would generally weigh in the vicinity of 4.5 and 6.5 grams—the same as maybe a couple sugar 3D shapes. The paper or card sleeves that they came in would regularly be heavier than this, at around 9g. Contrast that and the 40g weight of an ordinary vinyl single—or the 200g of numerous 78rpm shellac singles—and you perceive how much crude material was being spared.

At that point there was the way that heavier cartridges on numerous turntables would truly granulate the flexi's playback to an end. In ordinary conditions there were just two routes out of this: play the flexi while it was on top of a typical vinyl single, or place a coin or two some place close to the focal point of the plate—some later Soundsheet pressings really contained a hover set apart out for where the coin, or coins, ought to best be put. At times you even needed to attempt both traps in the meantime to get a record to play.

There were two other, more insoluble, issues with this new super-thin record. Initially, in spite of the fact that to less recognizing ears the sound quality may have showed up a nearby adversary to standard vinyl on the initial few plays, flexis never had the total recurrence scope of full-weight 45s, or 7.5-inches-per-second tape recordings. Proficient use in, say, a radio station was not feasible unless there were actually no different renditions of the track being referred to. The other aggravation was the way that flexis blurred quicker: their shallower, shaped depressions implied expanded surface commotion, while scratches seemed all the more rapidly and came through louder, so skipping and bouncing soon turned into a noteworthy issue for any circle that got more than few plays.

Defining moments in flexi history

For the greater part of the above reasons, the utilization of the Soundsheet rapidly ended up noticeably limited to three primary—yet extensive—ranges: band promos, kids' records, and giveaways for magazines, which were typically, however not only, music papers.

A normal case came when The Beatles conveyed flexi circles to their fan club in 1964; the one underneath elements a strange singalong and some individual messages to their followers.The Fab Four did it again in 1967, in spite of the fact that the conveyance was barely less whimsical and all the more slapdash, in spite of the fact that this time there was no less than a tune attached.A year later, Richard Nixon won the 1968 US decision with a very much financed battle that utilized the Soundsheet in its crusade materials. Over a million were conveyed to voters in key states, denoted "Nixon's The One!" and including a discourse by the man himself.

Yet, they were cheap(ish) and happy, and deals kept on standing their ground all through the late 1960s. A special recording from the mid 1970s shows the amount of an industry the flexi had moved toward becoming; take note of that the circle appeared in the connection beneath is really a square sheet—proper for the configuration's unique name—a shape which most American squeezing plants remained with till the end. As an aside, in the US "soundsheet" has dependably remained a more famous term than flexi disc.In Britain, vinyl squeezing organizations, for example, Lyntone authorized the improved assembling process from Eva-tone and settled on the more engaging name of "flexi circle," as it was felt that the expansion of "plate" strengthened the association with vinyl records, while the first US name would make music beaus mistake it for sheet music. Industry insiders were likewise doubtlessly tired to death of that old music lobby joke: "Do you like sheet music? 'No, I simply like the well done… '"

David Bowie was aided by the guideline if not simply the genuine plate, when his leap forward collection The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars ended up plainly one of the quickest movers amid the mid year of 1972. RCA records, his music name at the time, was stressed that they couldn't get enough vinyl to stay aware of the colossal deals request—a speedy million merchant was a major ordeal for a UK collection in those days—and it expected that flighty high school pop fans would purchase something else if compelled to sit tight possibly 14 days for conveyances to the vinyl stores, a dread that was maybe not absolutely baseless even in those days. So RCA Records utilized the Dynaflex circle for a huge number of Ziggy Stardust pressings, utilizing a thin section of vinyl that was better than the flexi however which measured 25 percent not as much as the standard collection.

RCA Records completed its pressings in time, Ziggy remained in the collection graphs and was soon essentially living at Number One, and Bowie had turned into a true blue star.Cutting expenses and selling burgers

Some vinyl specialists have, notwithstanding, dependably loathed this move by RCA. As the oil emergency hit the west in 1973 and the cost of vinyl rose, these sorts of circle soon turned into a route for marks to spare cash by cutting collection weights and in this manner, eventually, lessening sound quality. The thicker and heavier the collection, the better the sound generation is—subsequently the vogue among hello there fi enthusiasts for plates that convey a 160g to 200g weight.

It was around this time Britain's driving music paper New Musical Express gave away an elite Alice Cooper track, a really decent Elvis Presley pantomime called "Smooth Black Limousine." On the other side were bits from his prospective "Billion Dollar Babies" collection. This squeezing remained a prized thing among Cooper fans for quite a long time, until it at last started to show up on bootlegs.Swedish pop sensations ABBA were additionally inclined to the odd selective freebie; their "ABBA/Live 77" was an uneven gold-hued flexi that highlighted cuts from that year's Australian visit. It was just accessible as a present for the youthful children who were offering books, papers, and magazines way to-entryway at Christmas for the Jultidningsförlaget distributing company. At the flip side of the pop-social range, in 1978, the spearheading electronic British band The Human League gave away a flexi circle entitled "Flexi Disk" with their 12-inch single "Nobility of Labor," however it was later reissued on their "Multiplication" collection. Fittingly enough for a gathering then thought to be exceptionally aesthetic, their flexi circle chiefly comprises of them talking about, er, flexi plates, and whether they ought to do one.

In the interim, in the USA in the 80s, McDonalds utilized flexi circles—and in a few states cardboard records—to convey a redo of the moronically enchanting curiosity hit "Life Is A Rock (however The Radio Rolled Me)" from 1974, for its $1,000,000 Menu Song moment win promotion.This was a sickeningly fruitful rivalry battle that extended more than 1988 and 1989. A few distinct forms of the tune were recorded and squeezed onto an amazing 78 million flexis, which were then attached onto advert embeds and slipped into a considerable lot of America's every day papers. Each one of the recordings highlighted a session artist, or in some cases an individual from the general population, endeavoring to sing "Life Is A Rock" before committing an error, and soon thereafter the track would end. McDonalds had shrewdly squeezed one single flexi circle on which the melody was finished appropriately. Whoever discovered this irregular squeezing was regarded to be the champ of one million dollars. After numerous, numerous months, amid which a few pessimists pondered so anyone can hear whether the genuine "Life Is A Rock" flexi sheet really existed or not, it was in the long run found by one Charlene Price, of Galax in West Virginia, who right away did what many individuals long for doing: she purchased the late-night shop where she worked.