#this album has a very very coherent story but I refuse to make it about real people because it is but it's also an art piece

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Also the "I'm having his baby no I'm not" in but daddy I love him and then the revelation that the former lover promised a baby and didn't follow through, how that heartbreak is still so clear in the ways she goes manic and deranged while she spirals.

[doroinoue]

okay so i've been listening to the dorohedoro manga soundtrack for a while now, and my morning has been a little hectic so i decided to just ramble about all the songs and what/who i associate them with, and also which songs from the anime ost they remind me of (since the anime ost is very much inspired from the manga ost)

WARNING: DIABOLICAL LEVEL OF YAPPING BELLOW, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!!

you can listen to the songs Here if you haven't, and i'll be going by this order, since thats the official one

Redacted, Recalcitrant, Repressed - khost: this one in my head is literally curse/risu theme and you cannot convince me otherwise Ever. Man Inside The Mouth from the anime ost is im pretty sure inspired from this song too so it All just makes sense. also the title itself reminds me of risu and the way he is and whatnot (im so shit at explaining good lird) also this is me just being insane but i think the voice of the guy singing KINDA fits risu more (the deeper more monstrous voice sounds like curse in my head too), like i love his actual voice too but when i read the manga i definitely dont imagine him with it i expected something more raspy(?), meanwhile aikawa being the one with the smoother voice (his raspy voice fits too giving that Kaiman and yadda yadda) Dont ever let me talk abt risu drhdr bro i dont stfu

Blaka Smoko - VOODOOM: i love this song so much but kai's stupid fucking face pops up in my head when i listen to it and i DONT KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH IT!!! though yeah uh this is pretty much either his song or the cross eyes in general since the lyrics are "i sell black smoke"..though the deranged laugh really reminds me of him solely. imagine a version of the drhdr manga where black smoke is like weed and they smoke that shit and get high i Think thats rlly funny i dunno what else to say tbh i think me associating the song w kai is preventing me from having too many thoughts about it. However i hope when he like shows up fr (not just in flashbacks) the anime ost makes a remix of this song cuz it genuinely fits (also i just love how this song directly mentions nikaido and kaiman, although a bit nonsensical given the context)

Dorohedoro Zombie Slushi - Candie Hank: im so certain 1000手観音 and another song (i cant remember which one) from the anime ost sampled from this one lmfao. anyway this one just reminds me of zombie ebisu, or ebisu in general. not even like living dead day, literally just zombie ebisu. its probably the vocals tbh, someone in a youtube comment was complaining abt them and another person replied "just imagine ebisu singing it" and i cant get it out of my head now. i can totally see her sing this song, especially knowing shes canonically interested in the manga ost album  (you can see her read the songs of it while checking it out in like episode 4? i think? the one where they follow doll risu around and end up in some cheap clothing store)

Eating food and fighting Wizards - Shitwife: this one makes me very nostalgic, i like how its one of the few songs that isnt just pure nonsensical chaos. like i love those too, infact im bummed out the anime ost doesnt have more chaotic songs given the manga is literally incomprehensible sometimes, but i like how this song kinda shows the more coherent and cheerful side of the story. of course this is just kaiman theme to me, i mean the title and all. i think kaiman would really like this song, he would def listen to it. it also reminds me of that scene where him and nikaido are driving in their motorcycles, it gives the vibe of a drive in the middle of the night to me anyway, not much to say for this one too, i just think its really nice (also the drums go crazy hard)

Enter the Hole - NAH: lovely magic predecessor LOL. perfect for me honestly cuz lovely magic is my fav song from the anime soundtrack. This one just reminds me of hole, i dunno. the brief ethereal part reminds me of the past of the hole though, before the lake of refuse was created (i forgot what they called that shit in the official translation forgive me..lake of refuse sounds cooler either way). thats all tbh

She is a devil - Hanali: devil nikaido theme song what can i say...i literally want this song beat for beat to play at the scene where nikaido grows her devil tail and gets devil high (if they even animate season 2 that far) either that or when theyre selling gyoza at the department store and she goes devil high again and starts beating ass. its so perfect for those scenes also i like to think the distorted singing at the very beginning is like what humans hear when a devil sings, i know it should be more ear bleeding giving the reaction everyone has in canon but whateva!!! also also i like to imagine nikaido was probably hearing something similar while her tail was growing and she was going crazy, i think maybe hearing the singing of devils in your head while slowly turning into one is a cool idea

LIZARD HEAD - Dr. Das: i cant lie this ones...a little boring for me. like the beat is cool and all, but i think this is the one song i have the least to say abt. to reference another youtube comment, they said smth abt imagining kaiman fucking around in hole to this song, and yeah. i see it. i think if the anime animates that little bonus(?) comic abt how kaiman spends his day in hole, they should use smth similar to this song

Transformations - Shackleton: ok i lied this is the one i have to say least about. i dont mind 10+ minute songs, but damn this ones even more boring to me. the pissing sounds arent helping either LOL. though i think if they had to play this song somewhere, or a variation of it, maybe it fits best at the part where kawajiri is making nikaido do the devil exam in his house or whatever...idk....

Dorohedoro - Igorrr: ALRIGHT BACK TO YAPPING. this song is so fucking good, dare i say its my favorite of the whole ost. and im not the only one, everyone seems to love this one. its literally just TIC TOC predecessor but even better. the classical music and opera singing inserted into this absolute chaos is insane and i cant think of a song that fits shin more honestly. like this is literally shin theme. it perfectly mixes his calm and rational self with the deranged outbursts he has. ive heard people say shin is a boring character and i genuinely cant wrap my head around it like HELLO...not only is his design just cool as fuck, but he has such interesting personality? my boy went through absolute hell and grew up from an aggressive and snarky kid to a calm and if i may say, empathetic guy. like he cares about the people around him, he was carrying three guys (one with his fucking mouth mind you) that passed out because of the rain flooding the underground basement. he refuses to kill people who are weak with magic, and generally doesnt really like going on killing sprees unless its a life or death situation (which since kid has made him go crazy, i like to think its probably cuz it increases his heartbeat and being a human+sorcerer maybe doubles the adrenaline this way). also the way he has inhumanely high pain tolerance, he can have his guts splattered on the ground and still manage to walk, to the point it even weirds EN out. like you gotta be some freak to get en concerned for you (or be kikurage lol). sorry this turned into a shin rant more than the song itself, i just cant believe so many people dont see how cool shin is. like hes not even my most favorite character but i will protect all the drhdr characters i like (which is most of them). anyway moving on

The Hole - Ghengis: alot of ppl say they think of hole (the place) when they listen to this song, but me personally?this song screams hole the entity, and artificial devil kai. like this song FEELS like its oozing with the sludge and that feeling every sorcerer that gets in contact with hole "magic" feels. i like to think the headaches they get is equivalent to the beat of the song LOLL. like just super loud and painful pulsing headache that can leave you paralyzed on the ground. anyway, i dont have that much to say, i just want this song to play at the central department store arc, OR. when artificial devil kai is first shown thas all

Don't Think, Just Kill - Roly Porter: i lied again this is the one i have least to say about. sorry. literally my only thoughts are that one of the songs playing during the living dead day episode is inspired by it but i frogor which one

Kaimans Head - Dead Fader: to compensate the fact i mightve lied once again im gonna ramble about something mildly related. so the one youtube upload i found of this song uses this one fucking risu fanart that legit makes me shit my pants. its honest to god the scariest freaking fanart ive seen of a character i like. its not like Shiver me timbers scary, its just so unsettling to me, like WHO COOKED THIS UP. WHO DREW THIS. i know hayashida would love it. she wishes she made risu this scary and not the catboy babygirl beautiful princess with a disorder she created (/J). anyway uh, this song goes pretty hard, i like it, i just dont have much to way besides that i like the beat maybe. also heres link to the youtube upload with the picture if u wanna know what im talkin abt

Radio 538 - Dow Jones Brotherhood: because the first time i listened to the songs was on youtube, i found this song pretty much last and uh. i dunno its cool! for some reason it reminds me of the cross eyes? ive no clue why it just does. it reminds me specifically of how all of them are basically just worshipping some guy half (if not most) of them havent even seen the face of. i like how the whole thing is basically just a cult. people built statues of the boss, tattooed his face on their hands so they never forget it, And the elites...oh those poor little guys. closest to the boss and got psychologically tortured with killing thousands of sorcerers daily and left to deal with the incomprehensible shit their boss does, while slowly building suspicion and disgust towards him, but unable to do anything because of how far theyve gone into this. like can you imagine how miserable dokuga and tetsujo must feel knowing their devotion to kai led to all their friends killed. id just die bro this is so fucked... anyway, kewl song👍 i love the cross eye elites

Stay down zombies! - Ed Cox: i honestly love how lowkey dramatic this one is. ALSO the accordion tune from el corazon is im pretty sure taken from this one! which makes two shin references yippee!!! i like how this one kinda mixes calm music with breakcore (do not erm akshually me on this one i dont care), just like how igorrr does. i dunno its just a cool song, though PERSONALLY i dont think it fits living dead day, it reminds me more of that scene where shin remembers his mothers death, and then slowly turns into a zombie. it gives off that vibe giving how the song progresses from dramatic and a bit somber, while the beat starts creeping in, accompanied by the accordion that i literally will never not associate w shin in general

ANYWAY WOW THATS ALL!!!! if even one person bothered to read all this, thank you. i love yapping about dorohedoro i love silly manga about a bunch of freaks and freak stuff and i am obsessed with hayashidas taste in music, knowing she picked all those artists cuz she likes their music makes absolute sense considering the kind of art she makes. i love you q hayashida im your biggest fan. also if you notice any grammatical errors pls remember english is not only my second language, but i also barely slept last night so that's my excuse

[shes-coming-clean]

Green Day Documentary Reviews Pt 2

The last one of these seemed to make people happy, and because my brain refuses to think about anything but this band right now, might as well do something productive with that. So here is part 2!

Today’s doc: Green Day: Born To Be (2016)

I decided to get this one over with because I didn’t remember liking it the first time, and wow, it’s even worse than I remember. So this review is going to be a lot more negative overall because oof this one pisses me off. Honestly, one of its strongest qualities is that its only 24 minutes, so at least you don’t have to suffer too long.

Pros

* It focuses on their lives from childhood up through American Idiot and includes a decent amount of detail.

* They don’t have any present day interviews recorded specifically for this documentary, which means they have to get really creative piecing old interviews together to tell a coherent story. And they do that well...about half the time (more on that later)

* There are Portuguese subtitles so that’s nice. We love accessibility in this house

* There is a mention of Two Dollar Bill! Love to see it. Unfortunately, they get the nickname wrong and call him Two Dollar Billie (How do you miss the play on words there?) but still, it’s a nice detail to include

* They actually discuss Billie and Mike’s childhoods in some detail. Tré does not get the same treatment but A for effort - 2 out of 3 aint bad.

And that’s it for pros. On to the cons. We’ll focus on the nitpicky stuff first

* This video only has audio in one ear if you’re using headphones, which is kinda unusual for this channel, so I wonder if there was some kind of mistake uploading it.

* They only seem to have footage from the Dookie era and onward so when they talk about stuff before that, they either use a mix of a couple of old photos of the band, generic stock footage, or more modern video clips. I understand that you have to work with what you have, but this is kind of distracting when you’re hearing the narrator talk about their informal audition for Lookout Records, but you’re hearing and seeing the Good Riddance music video. Like, I’d give it a pass if the song at least commented on or shared an emotion with that part of the story but it just feels random. They really don’t seem to have put too much thought into when they use certain clips, so the performances on screen aren’t always from the time period they’re taking about - even later on in the story. This, and the lack of a clear structure can make it hard to tell what year/era they’re talking about at any given moment.

* They have to rely on past interviews to do a lot of the story telling, but once again, they don’t always care too much about time period and will clip sections out of context. For example, they take a clip of Billie from roughly ‘95 talking about how the last few years have been crazy, and make it about their career downturn in the early 2000s, even though you can CLEARLY see he’s younger than in the other clips.

* There is a narrator who fills in the parts of the story not conveyed in clips which is a good choice...except that he’s really annoying. I can’t tell if it’s his voice or the script he’s been given, but either way, it’s not great.

* The narrator says that all three band members divorced or separated from their wives in the late 90s/early 2000s, except...that didn’t happen. Billie and Adrienne had a rough point, sure, but they didn’t separate or divorce.

So far, most of my critiques have not been massive. I still probably could’ve enjoyed a doc at least a bit even if it had those problems, a lot of which seem to be due to a lack of resources and having to make do with what they had. I can understand that. The same does not hold true for this next part, which is, how they framed the band’s jump to a major label and the years that followed.

Every band, actor, or public figure of any kind will usually have some kind of signature question or complaint that everyone either levies against them or debates. Green Day’s is basically “are they real punks or are they sellouts?” At this point, I think this question is pretty stupid and I have a lot of problems with the mindset behind it (I think it has a lot to do with classism and sexism, but that’s for another time), but it’s part of the band’s public persona at this point, so any documentary has to at least touch on it. Most docs tend to frame the backlash against the band after they sighed with Reprise as the petty complaints of jealous gatekeepers who were pissed that the band was inviting normies into their punk club. Basically, there was nothing Green Day could’ve done about it - it was going to happen either way.

But this doc takes it for granted that Green Day absolutely sold out, and not just that, they fundamentally changed and stopped being punk. Which, like, are we listening to the same album? The only real difference between Kerplunk (released before they signed with a major label) and Dookie (their major label debut) is that the second had an actual budget. The sound and subject matter is very very similar. They were never super “hard core” to begin with - in fact, it was their catchy melodies that made them stand out. Nothing in their style changed. Honestly, I would argue that Dookie has a lot more songs about being angry and punk than Kerplunk does. The only difference is its higher production quality. So, when this doc says things like they “lost their hard fought identity” I honestly don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. And this isn’t just me being a fan. The doc says they changed, it says they stopped being punk, but it doesn’t offer any evidence to substantiate that claim. We’re just supposed to hear the ominous music and the out-of-context clips (which were mostly self-deprecating jokes) and believe it.

When they do provide details, most of them are wrong, or at very least, misleading. For example, they claim that the backlash only happened after the band released the second and third singles off of Dookie, “Basket Case” and “When I Come Around” respectively. It claims that the first single, “Longview” was punk enough to make fans happy while the other songs weren’t, which...ok - I just don’t think you can claim “Longview” is any more punk than the other songs. Honestly, it’s kind of a departure from their normal sound into a more jazzy style. I don’t think you can argue that it’s any more punk than “Basket Case” unless you’re claiming that singing about masturbation makes something inherently punk. Like, what are we even defining as “punk” at this point? Also, the backlash started long LONG before any song off the album had ever been released. It started as soon as they signed with Reprise, so claiming it was because people didn’t like the music is just dishonest.

Overall, I really feel like this doc has a very strange tone, especially for a piece of media supposedly promoting their newest album (Revolution Radio). It pays lip service to how great and accomplished the band is, but takes every opportunity to trash them. Because it goes so hard on the “they sold out” narrative, it implies that the success of American Idiot is just because they got lucky that people liked the product of their lack of artistic integrity. I am more than ok with criticizing a band - even one I like, and I don’t mind when a doc does try to do more than just praise Green Day, but those criticisms have to be backed up. And the whole question of “selling out” is just so so stupid at this point. This doc came out in 2016 - was the most pressing issue that year really whether or not a band stopped being punk 25 years ago? 

So, thanks for coming to my ted talk. I hope you liked it and if there’s any other Green Day docs you want me to review next, please let me know. These have been a lot of fun to write and I’m so happy that people seem to like it.

[sam-roulette]

rip to the alt Sasha survives s3 “the slaughter ritual is a battle of the bands wherein one of the 4 main mechanisms albums has the key to ending the world” crack au for being quite literally impossible to write 

so here’s how it was meant to go down:

- Jon gets kidnapped by Alfred Grifter himself and when he’s returned to the archives he has all 4 Mechs albums and also punches Tim in the face in a slightly slaughter-induced haze

- Jon immediately snapping out of it and being so apologetic he tells Tim to punch him back so they’re even. Tim, tiredly, tells him that no. He is not going to punch him back. “You don’t have to worry about if it hurts,” that’s. Not The Point.

- there’s some slaughter juice on the albums so everyone starts getting a little bloodthirsty, a fact that becomes apparent as the Archives splits along party lines- Jon is convinced High Noon Over Camelot is the world-ender, while Sasha insists that it’s The Bifrost Incident. Tim’s on  Sasha’s side; Martin says he’s impartial but implies Jon may have a point, and only chooses Once Upon A Time to keep up the veneer of not being biased. 

- Sasha manages to convince Tim to grab Ulysses Dies At Dawn so that none of the other possible combatants have it Just In Case that’s the one that ends the world so that she can stop him. Tim questions who’s gonna stop Sasha if he can’t get close once Red Signal starts and she says not to worry, I’ve got a plan

- the plan is she gets Not!Sasha out the basement to be her bandmate, promises it that it can eat her after the competition and (it can’t because of ) threatens it with a suspiciously high voltage taser. She has no plans to let it eat her later. She is a liar 

- Tim, predictably, does not take this well. Sasha tries joking that he doesn’t get her “artistic vision” and Tim says he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Sasha gets taken again. The argument gets more heated from there.

- Turns out, things between Sasha and Tim didn’t get magically better once Sasha was spat out the table at the start of s3

- and in fact Tim has been more distant and unsure of how to act around her, since even if she’s His Sasha, he has NO memories of her- just what Sasha says and vague half-recollections that he can’t tell if its something the Stranger put in him or if its the hazy remnants of this woman that he loved once. 

- Sasha finds herself being treated like a stranger by Tim, and while it’s not really bad per se- Tim isn’t cruel to people- it still Hurts when she tries to reach out to him, when it looks like he’s obviously hurting, and he just. Doesn’t Open Up. It doesn’t help that he can’t be in the same room as Jon for long and that he can’t look Martin in the eye, and it doesn’t help that it’s only after Literally Threatening To Leave that Jon cracks and admits everything that happened in s2

- The day of the contest is getting nearer. Martin is suddenly very suspiciously good at the violin despite never having lessons growing up, which he jokes is a “natural affinity for strings”. He’s been on the phone a suspicious amount.

- The day before the contest and tensions are high in the Archives. Jon’s locked himself in his office to do “vocal exercises”. Martin hums everywhere. Tim and Sasha are coordinating on The Bifrost Incident, but Tim keeps it strictly professional and terse, and it’s slowly driving Sasha up the wall.

- Finally, Tim says, “During this... we won’t hurt each other, right? While we’re in there- we can keep our heads on straight.”

- “Of course not.” Sasha replies, immediate. “You’d never hurt me.”

- “... Right.”

- The day arrives and it’s revealed that Jon, Martin, Sasha, and Tim are the Only combatants. It was Grifter’s game to get them to fight each other the entire time, in a strictly organized battle-like way. Not!Sasha gets a pass as Sasha’s “pet” and Sasha very quickly steps on its foot to keep it from saying anything that might disqualify them.

- Listen the actual battle itself ? Is messy as fuck to figure out. like we never actually properly figured out the rules. we have a spreadsheet of like which number placement every song in all 4 albums were and everything and while some combinations would’ve made for some SICK turn based combat would’ve been an absolute Nightmare to actually carry out

- each song actually has an effect and transforms both the stage and audience as the show goes on- so there’s a bit where Jon has The Hanged Man Rusts and that garners complete silence as it accidentally prophesies the rest of the story, Thor causes Sasha to actually begin to spark with lightning, cool stuff

- the only truly comprehensible bit was round 4. Hellfire, Sirens, Cinders’ Song, and Sigyn.

- Hellfire sees Jon give into the Slaughter energy more than any other point as the entire audience starts fighting each other in religious ecstasy, the other stages where the assistants are isolated beginning the melt and warp. Sasha helps Tim back up just before he slips into the flame below and Martin tries to climb higher as the hands of congregation reach for him, or past him, or to grab Anything

- Sirens cuts through the last bit before it all goes truly to hell as Tim picks up a guitar and starts lulling everything down to a sense of normalcy. There’s a moment, at the intersection of when Jon stops trying to scream the last dying cry of Gallahad’s maddened ramblings and the audience returning to their seats and his voice acapella filling the hall- we can chase away your worries- where there is Perfect Clarity. Tim could stop after this moment. Before the end of the verse, he could stop, and maybe it’d put an end to this.

- His eyes land on Sasha. Before he can stop himself, the verse is finished. Sleep in peace and serenity. Then he can’t stop singing anymore, and Sasha watches the drowsy smile suddenly bloom across Tim’s cheeks

- It’s when Martin, never once looking in Jon’s direction, jumps from his platform to Tim’s that Sasha knows something’s wrong. Because she wants to do the same thing. So she takes a page out of the real Ulysses’ playbook- she has the Not!Them tie her to one of the beams on her stage and promise, no matter what she says next, to never untie her. Not until someone else starts singing

- Just as Sasha predicted, she starts getting odd herself. Tim is looking in her direction, so longingly as he sings that she Knows it could only really be for Her, that he wants her to just lay in his embrace and be well taken care of- and she stops wanting anything beyond it. So she struggles. She hisses and bites and kicks and screams to try and break free of the rope while Tim smiles, beckoning, so they can finally have that reunion they’ve both wanted. The one where they hold each other and say that it’s okay, that they have each other, that it’s Safe

- Someone unties Sasha. It feels like Tim’s arms around her and she melts, no longer recognizing the pretty man singing on stage. Not!Tim looks back at Tim from across the gap, holding Sasha tenderly, and grins. Tim stops singing, for just a moment, surrounded by legions except for the sole person he wants to see most in the world, in  the arms of something that doesn’t even look remotely like him

- The moment’s enough and, as Martin sees Jon looking strangely adoringly at Tim, he realizes that wait a fucking minute. And immediately gets so jealous he hijacks Tim’s spotlight and restores actual equilibrium with Cinders’ Song. Tim is once again left alone on stage, strangely desolate against the large setting.

- Sasha regains her balance and tries to answer it all with Sigyn, but the Not!Them refuses to stop looking like a mockery of Tim. Jon is kind enough to take Lyf’s narration while Not!Tim is “kind” enough to take Loki’s lines. Sasha tries to appeal- why back away? This time I’ll stay; come stand at my side as we make them pay... 

- When she sings “remember your wife!” Not!Tim says, “I don’t recall,” playfully, mocking. He mocks when he says “She’s still enthralled,” one part disgust for Sasha’s feelings and one part gleeful accusation to Tim- look what you did to her. She still feels the effect of your song, even now.

- anyway long story short everything gets more and more screwy as everyone is magically made to forget that they’re supposed to be stopping this thing and start only wanting to be the one to get to their finale quickest. Blood and Whiskey sees Sasha nearly lose an ear from a bullet. Underworld Blues has Tim nearly causing hell to freeze over with his chilling plea as Orpheus. No Happy Ending signals the first of the audience member deaths.

- It also signals when Grifter leaves weapons on the stage and has the team go at it. It’s not really so bad, at first- Jon and Martin forget about fighting somewhere along the way and kiss, Sasha is knocked out for a few seconds and is somewhat conscious, which is Not a good state to enter Red Signal in, and Tim is trying desperately to figure out where to go next

- Tim has Ties That Bind as a last attempt to gain control of the situation and very nearly manages to snap Sasha out of the absolute maddened hell state she’s about the enter. If only he could find it in himself to omit some lyrics- if only he could find it in himself to be less bitter when singing I was betrayed by the one I was to wed.

- There was no more love there - my heartstrings long since cut...

-There was no more love there.

- “Ah.” Is Sasha’s last coherent thought, “I see.”

- “So that’s how it is.”

- Martin’s mic cuts out. Jon’s mic cuts out. Tim’s mic cuts out on the last line.

- Sasha picks herself off the ground, slowly. Far more slowly than the words falling out of her mouth. Not words- an incantation. A Chant.

- y’ai ngah Yog-Sothoth...

- turns out Jon’s not the only one who can do a mean incantation. And unlike Jon, Sasha’s had some vocal training at some point in heavy metal. Make of that what you will

- The guitars kick in at the end to dive straight into Ragnarok I and Alfred Grifter announces that the winner is Sasha James amidst the screaming and destruction of the roof caving in reverse, showing a blood red sky. The Not!Them has disappeared, presumably already running into the faceless crowd to find a new body for the incoming new world Jon’s trying to get to safety and Martin’s begging Tim to hide, that there’s not gonna be getting through to Sasha now

- But Tim knows the album because he worked with her on this. For this scenario. Just in case. He knows it’s safe enough to move when Sasha-as-Sigyn questions I know this man, why is he here...? Knows to hold still, make himself as small as possible, when she begins Ragnarok II. The crowd isn’t so lucky and they melt into each other, a mosh pit of rock n roll violence that flashes and gleams with pocket knife and piercing and heels and nails. Just barely manages to make a run for it as Sasha takes on the final lines as the Void.

- Envy your dead for now unfurled / this madness follows to consume / your world. 

- Tim is just close enough in ear shot to yell, not even attempting to sing at this point with a throat as dry as his is, “You- don’t I know you?” The world tries to skip Ragnarok III to get to IV. Tim tries to be louder even with the rubble giving way under his hands, “Weren’t we friends?”

- The gentle piano kicks in instead. Tim could nearly cry with relief when Sasha turns his way and, even if she doesn’t look like she fully gets it yet, answers, “Once- I remember. And now, when it ends...”

- In harmony. The first they’ve managed in a long while. Where are you going?

- “For vengeance...?” Sasha left uncertain. Answered in a songbird lilting voice, “For love.”

- There is no mention of death. Only an immediate harmony as they both sing Perhaps that’s enough!

- The guitar that comes on isn’t the end of Ragnarok III. It’s the lonely riff of Thor as Sasha hauls herself up with a drum mallet she steals from the broken down remains of backstage. Sung, almost like a tune a soldier marches to, fury like thunderbolts burns in my veins...

- She smashes Grifter over the head and feeds him into the mosh pit to be torn to shreds. As his shriek of laughter echoes off of the walls, she takes the mallet to the lonely speaker at the back of the hall, playing the final riffs, and destroys it.

- The world stops ending. Everyone is left in the wreckage, passed out and bloody. Jon pokes his head out from a trap door in the ground. Martin mutters from offstage somewhere. Sasha is heaving out breaths as she stares at the broken equipment, still clutching the hammer she threw in the works.

- Cue the moment where she finally turns to face Tim. They look at each other. Then, they’re grinning, and they’re starting to run. They end up toppling onto the ground together, laughing with wild relief, arms tight around each other the entire way through as Tim’s the first one to let loose the first catharsis tears.

- Tim tells her that was the coolest damn thing he ever did see. Sasha says she’s sorry for almost ending the world to have him see that, and Tim’s just going are you kidding ??? This was the best way this could have ended up!

- And Sasha says that it wouldn’t have happened if not for Tim stepping in like he did. And Tim says he’s sorry too, for everything. For the way he acted, and Sasha says that none of them were in their right minds, but Tim still insists that being in right mind or Not, he made some shitty choices there-

- and of course Sasha kisses him. Tells him he was simply brilliant. And Tim grins and kisses her and tells her that no no no SHE was absolutely brilliant, she had TRUE star power-

- and it’s not like before. Tim still can’t remember everything, and the memories Sasha has of the Archives before the Not!Them leave a sour taste in her mouth after she’s released. Tim is gonna need a long time before he can really go back to being his cheerful self, and Sasha needs time to come to terms with missing so much of her own life. But 

- But at least they can lay together at night and find a little peace and serenity in the interim.

[ichayalovesyou]

My last Lyrical Fanfic was Pon Farr (An Amok Time Tribute) check it out Here.

Shame & Shores To Walk On:

Ship: Spirk (Spock/Kirk)

Episode: The Naked Time

Premise: Poorly timed soul baring, mutual and intense pining, angst, and very messy confessions brought on by sickness and a life or death situation.

I Am Sorry (Act One): Starts with Ugh, Spock having an emotional breakdown in the briefing room.

Bad Taste (Act Two): Starts with I Don’t Know What To Do With My Hands, Spock struggles to confess his feelings for Jim.

Better Off (Act Three): Starts with These Streets, Jim laments his love/hate relationship with the Enterprise and longs for a relationship, something real, something permanent.

The Risk Untaken (Act Four): Starts with After All, what was seen cannot be unseen, done undone, said unsaid, time warp or no time warp. Jim & Spock have seen things in one another that neither was ready to show, the question is what do they do about it?

Full fanfic below!

~Act One: I Am Sorry~

Ugh~by The Warning, from Queen Of The Murder Scene (Album) “I am in control of my emotions”

Spock is having a full blown panic attack, he’s enraged, embarrassed! He hasn’t had one since he was a child! What could have possibly brought this on? Was it the accidental meld with Christi- the disease. He cannot be seen like this! But, the Captain needs him. Spock is horrified to discover that he needs him too. Where had this need come from? Why did it insist on tightening his throat and setting his hands trembling? He cannot be seen like this!

“There’s so much more to this than that, suppress those feelings bite them back.”

The Sailor Song~by Autoheart, from Punch (Album) “I am an officer, an officer!”

Spock is absolutely irate with himself, this was horribly unprofessional, horribly Human. He is a starfleet officer and his Captain needs him, they’re all in grave danger and all he can do is sob?! And shudder?! The Vulcan in him wanted to run, hide, desperately. The Human half, more than anything else, wanted to seek Jim out. Neither could be satisfied, so here he would remain, and hope he would be found. Not just by anyone, but, by Jim…

Pathetic.

“Your overbearing best friend, hoping, for some attention.”

Love Love Love~by Of Monsters & Men, from My Head Is An Animal (Album) “My duty- my duty is to- too late. Too late. I’m sorry.”

The shaking, the tears refused to stop, no Vulcan meditation or mathematical litany could get them to cease. Spock was suddenly overwhelmed with the pointlessness of it all. The effort to stop it, the effort to fight both halves of himself. He did not have the strength to fight the needing, wanting for James Kirk. The Captain, who did not have time for a First Officer who was now unfit for duty by his own carelessness. No, it was better that he was alone, he had failed.

“And those bright blue eyes, can only meet mine from across a room filled with people that are less important than you.”

Lazy Eye~by Silversun Pickups, from Carnavas (Album) “Where have you be-?! What happened?”

To say Captain Kirk was shocked to find his First Officer in such emotionally compromised straits would be a woeful understatement. Spock barely recognized that he’d arrived, whatever Jim was saying, it didn’t matter, not yet, perhaps never. There was a silver lining to this, madness, brought on by the disease, it was that Spock was free. He could speak his mind, his heart- If he could get these words out, then maybe the freedom would be permanent. He had to tell him.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, all my life. But it’s not quite right.”

~Act Two: Bad Taste~

I Don’t Know What To Do With My Hands~by Minor Alps, from Get There (album) “Living on a planet where love, emotion, was in bad taste.”

Precision and coherence had left him with the carefully cultivated logic Spock so prized. He had been flung so violently against his human half in this moment, normally enduring a constant fight to come to the surface, was now running amuck. He felt like a freak of nature, he was, a freak of nature. But that didn’t matter, so long as he could talk to the Captain, Jim deserved to understand. Understand what has prevented him from speaking his heart all this time. If only he could reach him. Then everything else could matter.

“May be some kind of monster, maybe I just don’t know how to reach out, reach out.”

The Moon Will Sing~by The Crane Wives, from Coyote Stories (Album) “I respected my father, our customs, I was ashamed of my earth blood.”

Spock felt his resentment claw at his throat. The blow reminded him of childhood bullies. His father, though he’d never struck him, but wasn’t much better; Cold, seeking weakness, seeking emotions, that forbidden humanity. Why did he feel as though something had been kept from him? What had been stolen and could it be found again? This madness let him see it, but he could not touch it. Whatever it was, he wanted to give it to Jim, why couldn’t he understand?

“My heart knew the weight, ten years worth of dust and neglect, we made our peace with weariness and let it be.”

Runs In The Family~by Amanda Palmer, from Who Killed Amanda Palmer? (Album) “Jim.. When I feel friendship for you I’m ashamed!”

Spock quickly found his resentment mingle with rage. Why did his parents insist upon his being born of two worlds?! Could they not have afforded him the blessing of being from only one? There was no logic in being shamed for biological differences by his peers! It was illogical to feel shame over it! Why couldn’t Jim see what he was trying to tell him? Why wasn’t he listening?!

He grabbed Jim’s hand, perhaps they could both be certain then.

“We tend to bruise easily, bad in the blood, I’m telling you ‘cause I just want you to know me, know me and my family”

The One~by The Warning, from Queen of The Murder Scene (Album) “Understand Jim? I’ve spent a whole lifetime, learning to hide my feelings.”

Could the Captain really understand? He was Human after all, and there was no doubt Spock’s feelings, grotesque or not, were undeniably Human. Spock needed an explanation, he needed words, he needed them so that they could be given back. All he could receive from the Captain were feelings, feelings between to shouts that could not yet matter. The emotions that radiated from his touch were as painful and confusing as his own. More so than the feeble strikes that accompanied them.

“Can you explain to me what’s this feeling? Love it or hate it it’s never leaving. Want to believe, that you feel it too.”

~Act Three: Better Off~

These Streets~by Bastille, from All This Bad Blood (Album) “I’ve got it, the disease… Love. You’re better off without it and I’m better off without mine!”

This new, vulnerable Spock, Jim was ashamed to admit, scared him. And not just because he smacked him clear across the table! If Spock was trying to say what he thought he was, he couldn’t afford it! He couldn’t allow it, he wished he were more like Spock, able to just block the feelings bubbling up within him. Everyone he’s ever loved has left or gotten hurt, he couldn’t let that happen to Spock. The only thing that could not leave him was this ship, and he could not afford to lose her!

“These streets are yours you can keep them, in my mind it’s like you haunt them, and passing through I think I see you, in the shapes of other women.”

Various Storms & Saints~by Florence + The Machine, from How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful (Album) “You’re allowed to notice her, a captain’s not permitted-“ “Jim.”

Jim found himself thinking of Janice, he couldn’t touch her, not after what his other half had done. Besides, he shouldn’t, he didn’t deserve it- and Spock… He wanted him too, but the ship needs him more, it needed them both more. It hurt so much all the sudden, it was like he was drowning, anchored to the bottom of the ocean, if he could reach the surface for a moment- what made Spock think they could be together?! Have anything at all?!

“I know you’re bleeding but you’ll be okay, hold on to your heart you’ll keep it safe, hold on to your heart don’t give it away.”

Crimson Queen~by The Warning, from Queen of The Murder Scene (Album) “A beach to walk on, a few days no braid on my shoulder”

If they could just get out of this place, live to fight another day, then, maybe! But… even if the ocean would be gone and the anchor would still be there, there’s nowhere to go. Why did this scare him more than the immediate danger? More than any other feelings he’s felt for someone else? Was it just the disease… or something more?

“I know love shows in mysterious ways, still my screaming makes no sound, just silence at the roundabout.”

Hearts A Mess~by Gotye, from Like Drawing Blood (Album) “…no beach to walk on.”

“Sinner repent?” Ha, that much was true, it seemed to James Kirk that these, whatever these feelings were, were his repentance. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t speak, and Jim didn’t want to, couldn’t afford to. The blood was still there, it could be wiped away. The ache? He could live with it for now, he’d live with it forever if he had to. As long as Spo- the Enterprise and its crew were safe.

“Your hearts a mess, you won’t admit to it, it makes no sense, but I’m desperate to connect, and you can’t live like this.”

~Act Four: The Risk Untaken~

After All~by The Altogether, from When We Were Kids (Album) “Are you alright Jim?”

Part of Spock looked forward to being cured, the other wanted to hold onto the madness, just a little longer. He thought of the three words he could not say even with the peculiar freedom the sickness brought, and certainly could not say on the bridge… “Let me help” would not work, the captain could not show weakness at this time, perhaps, this other verbal trinity would suffice, in place of “I love you”.

“To heal the hearts the world had broke, a song for every sacrifice.”

Three Little Birds~by Branches, from Three Little Birds (Album) “… are you?”

Neither of them answered, but the silence was more than enough, of course they weren’t alright. They had revealed to each other things neither were ready to share. Sure, they’d survived, thankfully no one had died. Jim was no longer drowning, the anchor was lighter than he had remembered, and Spock seemed, fine, back to normal, sort of. They weren’t alright, but maybe, they would be.

“Singing don’t worry, about a thing, ‘cause every little thing is gonna be alright.”

She~by dodie, from Human (Album) “We have three days to live over again.” “Ha…Not those last three days.”

Three days, all over again, perhaps they could pretend what happened… No of course they couldn’t, what is done cannot be undone, nor said unsaid. But, what was said? Did he know? did he understand? Does he feel the same? For now, he is content to let the answer lie hidden. Not daring hope that he was right, but… why was he still staring at him?

“Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong? When she’s just so nice to look at.”

Drive~by Incubus, from Make Yourself (Album) “We may risk it some day Mr. Spock.”

Fears and aches or not, Jim had learned a great deal about his First Officer today. It would only be a matter of time before the Vulcan in him took over again. If the anchor was light enough, maybe he could drag himself, little by little, close enough to reach him. Regardless of what may come, at least they knew each other now. If Jim could help it, he was going to learn more.

“Whatever tomorrow brings I’ll be there, with open arms and open eyes.”

[dunkshotdreaming]

Rouge

Pairing: werewolf!Jaemin x idol/werewolf!reader (mentions of other members ft. appearances by the dreamies)

Genre: fluff (pg-13 at most), fantasy/supernatural au

Word count: 4,391

Summary: Maybe the cute little pup from Rouge territory wasn’t so bad after all. or In which borrowing a jacket turns out to be a fateful encounter.

✎ A/N: Officially kicking off the Nyctophilia series with a story based on the dream that started it all. Hope you guys will enjoy it, and so excited to finally have some time to work on this. (Here’s to hoping the rest of this project will turn out alright~ because I’m not even sure if this one did☺) I also apologize that this one isn’t entirely gender neutral, but if you swap out like that one pet name, I’m sure it could be! I’ll try to keep the other ones more neutral, if I can.

It felt like ages since you’d had some time off, and there was no better way to celebrate the end of your group’s promotional period than to visit your dear friends and kick back like the good old days. You had known your friends, Sayuri and Kaoru, ever since you were children. The siblings were the next youngest of the Blackwolf clan, after you, and the lot of you had many an adventure if your days as pups. Being part of the same clan, it isn’t impossible to think that the three of you had retained such a close friendship over time. They were almost like your right and left hands when it came to running the Blackwolf clan, of which you were the alpha. It was tough being both an idol and the alpha of one of the four major werewolf packs, but all was manageable with the right help and strategies. Incidentally, however, there was once almost trouble caused by Sayuri, who was caught with her mate from a rival pack, the Silveridges. But thankfully, that was then, and this is now; a new era of alphas have taken over since, and the peace treaty the clans came to an agreement over two years ago has yet to be disrupted.

And so here you are, visiting the prestigious company building your friends work at, the famous (and infamous) SM Entertainment. Meanwhile Kaoru had intensive training he couldn’t get out of, since he was still a trainee, Sayuri was off today, having opted for the still-chaotic yet freer lifestyle of working as a composer and lyricist. Though she did some freelance work as well, on occasion, this was where her office was. It was a lot more comfortable for you two to meet here than have to deal with being out in public, or risk running into any eager fans. As much as you loved and appreciated them, everyone deserved their rest now and again.

You’re both catching up in the lobby, really invested in a conversation (gossip, really) about something that happened within the clan when you hear people incoming. Quickly, you bot shift gears and continue your conversation with much less detail, using codewords when necessary, so as to not risk being exposed while freely out in the human world. Recognizing the passersby as NCT Dream, you rise from your comfortable position in the plush leather loveseat you’d been sitting in to bow to the senior group. They chuckle and tell you not to worry about formalities, all the while worrying you further when they opt to hang around in the lobby. Glancing at Sayuri, you both give a solemn nod, deciding it was better safe than sorry, and saving the rest of your conversation for a later time. Being polite, you make conversation with the group of tired boys sitting on the couch adjacent to you, finding out that they were taking a break from their upcoming album’s dance rehearsals. You nodded understandingly, having just finished your own promotions and knowing all too well the stress of comeback preparations.

You were just about to invite your friend somewhere, anywhere to continue your conversation out of earshot, desperate to hear the end of her story. Humans be damned, you needed to find out if the rumors about fellow wolves in the industry were true! But alas, you’re interrupted when Jaemin, one of the members of Dream, notices you shivering, as the air conditioning vent was just above your spot, leaving you with icy hands and chattering teeth.

“Oh no, I’m fine, really, but thank you so much for-” you start, only to once again be interrupted by the boy.

“It’s nothing, don’t mention it!” he beams at you, grabbing at the sweater lying next to his lap and wrapping it around your shoulders. As you look up at him, you take notice of his features: his pretty eyes, the slight pout of lips, even the grayish streak adorning the midsection of his bangs. It isn’t until Jaemin catches the scent of something familiar that you break from your trance. He grabs at your freezing hands with his own warmer ones, teasing you about how cute the flustered look on your face is at his actions. The other members have tuned out at this point, assuming he was being flirty and no longer held as much interest at your interactions as their conversation about dinner.

As he leans downward to speak to you from where he’s standing, barely an inch away from your own leg, he whispers gently in your ear, “I’d know that scent anywhere.”

Taken aback, you try to clear away the cobwebs forming where your coherent speech normally takes residence in your brain, offering a weak “What?” in response.

“You smell a lot like me, but yet so different. What clan are you from?” And that’s when his words sink in, flooring you at the realization. You’d been so concerned with hiding away from others that you’d forgotten the possibility of there being another like yourself, completely missing the scent of wet dog radiating off him as you’d mistaken it for sweat.

“Blackwolf,” you reply, not missing the way his smile grows tenfold while holding his gaze, “I moved here from the Noire territory up north not even a few years ago.”

“Ahh, so that’s why your scent was so powerful, you grew up within the territory, huh? You must be close to the alpha then, I’m assuming?” Jaemin slides past you to claim the spot beside you on the smaller sofa, both fascinated and intrigued at the revelation.

“Actually,” you rub your neck as your tongue nervously wets your lower lip, “I am the alpha.” A chuckle escapes you at the wide-eyed expression of the wolf next to you, tripping over his words due to the shock. “What clan are you from then?”

“I’m a Redfur, though I didn’t grow up the Rouge territory out west,” he admits, suddenly feeling shy in the presence of someone of such high regard. “You see the blonde boy with the little mole under his eye? That’s Jeno, he’s a Silveridge, we’ve known each other since we were in preschool.” He grins as he tells you this, obviously happy to have a friend and fellow werewolf on his team, never having to worry about feeling left out, and being able to speak to one of his own right from home. You kind of envied him, in a way; sure, you had your two friends, but they weren’t your bandmates, let alone labelmates. As he looks over at you two suspiciously, having caught wind of his name, you wave at him, to which he simply offers a shy smile. Hearing the all too familiar clan name reminds you of an interesting story.

“You know, my friend over there,” you nod your head in Sayuri’s direction on the recliner opposite from your spot, “her mate is a Silveridge. They’ve been together since before the treaty.” Jaemin eyes her curiously, almost as if he had just noticed her presence. The word “mate” clicks, his mouth slightly agape as he puts two and two together.

“So, you’re a Blackwolf as well, then. I knew there had to be more of us in the industry, but to think we’ve worked together before and I never even knew you were a fellow wolf,” he shakes his head as Sayuri laughs, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Likewise,” she replies in turn, “I had a feeling an NCT member or two had some, how do I put this… otherworldly energy? But I wasn’t sure if any of you were specifically werewolves, much less two of you.”

“There are like eight of us wolves, now that I think about it, though we don’t have a single Blackwolf yet. Care to join our humble Neo Culture Technology, princess?” The pet name sent your way throws you off-kilter, clearing your throat before you speak.

“As sweet as that offer is, I’m afraid I can’t just abandon my own group before we even make it to our second anniversary.”

“Then maybe you can accept my offer to join me in the café downstairs? I’d love to get to know more about the girl who stole my favorite jacket, if that’s alright with you…?” Jaemin is hesitant as he takes his shot, his lower lip nestled between his teeth as he anxiously awaits what words will leave your mouth. You glance over at Sayuri, who simply smirks in response before nodding your way, mumbling for you to “get lost” so that she can go check up on her brother, very likely an excuse to let you two be.

As she passes by you on her way out of the lobby, she sends a playful jab your way, reminiscing about how she had been ruthlessly teased for having a mate from another clan, reminding you that it would soon be your turn, should you end up with the Redfur after all.

The two of you politely excuse yourselves, embarrassed by all of the noise his bandmates make upon realizing that you’d be leaving together. You’re still wearing his sweater, which he refuses to take back, so you slip your arms through the sleeves to prevent the oversized garment from falling off your body. While chatting on your way to the café, you start to reminisce your days as an SM trainee before ending up at Loen. After some back and forth of trainee tales, you both come to the conclusion that the reason you’d seemed familiar to one another was that you used to be trainees around the same time, having had class together but never interacting before today. Jaemin later reveals that most of his bandmates aren’t actually human, and you’re left speechless, in disbelief until he starts listing them off.

“You already know about Jeno and I, but there are about six other wolves, as well as a variety of species amongst us. We had two humans, but one was recently bitten by a vampire, so now we’re down to just poor Mark,” Jaemin laughs, recalling the time Mark found out about that little fact.

“So, wait, mind if I ask who exactly…” you start but trail off, unsure just what you wanted to ask, let alone how to phrase your question. He holds the door open for you, only stepping in once you’ve passed ahead, and gently releases his hold on the door.

“I’ll explain everything you want to know, let’s just order first, alright?” Whispers spread like wildfire when you both walk in, next thing you know, you’re already at the counter across from the barista.

“And how may we help this adorable couple today?” the barista asks, almost smugly. You quickly try to interject, offering a denial, but Jaemin just eats up the attention, taking it almost as praise. He rattles off his order from hell, pardon, his chaotic mess of a coffee, with a sandwich before asking what you wanted to order. You try to insist on paying for your own, but he’s having none of that; realizing that he won’t budge, you sigh as you give in, telling the barista your drink of choice and asking for your own sandwich. The silence as you wait for your meals, if you could call them that, was painfully dull, a complete 180 from your previous time spent together. You can overhear a staff member or two muttering about how you two are “just so cute” and how they “envy young puppy love”, the latter unconsciously making your eye twitch.

“Thank you and come again! Have a great day,” the barista adds as he hands over your orders.

“We’re not-”

“She’s just shy, it’s ok,” Jaemin calmly states, picking up your food and walking off to a faraway table tucked into the lonesome corner of the café. He ignores the glare sent his way, his shit-eating grin plastered nearly from ear to ear. You follow him and sit down in the booth across from him, gratefully accepting your share. As you begin to unwrap your sandwich, he stands up again, decidedly grabbing his things before announcing that he’s got a better idea. “The practice room should still be empty right now, why don’t we sneak in there to eat, so I can tell you all about the others?”

_________

Cross-legged on the floor, you’re both sitting barely inches apart from one another as Jaemin recounts all of his inhuman bandmates to you. “For starters, there’s Taeyong who’s the Redfur alpha, he’s almost like a dad to me. Lucas and Kun are Goldensnouts, the latter being the alpha of their clan. Jeno is a Silveridge, but so is Jaehyun,” he pauses to eat, or rather inhale, half of his sandwich before taking a sip from his murky, liquid concoction.

“What a day, I get to meet another werewolf and find out there’s been a whole horde of you just under my nose. That’s lovely, just lovely,” you dramatize, hearing the boy beside you chuckle into his drink as his knee playfully knocks into yours.

“Relax, it’s not so bad. Maybe you’ve just got a weak nose, for an alpha,” he jests, wiggling his brows at your flared nostrils. “Where was I? Ah yes, the rest of the members,” Jaemin starts off, continuing to list from the vampires through the rest. You find out that Renjun is a pureblood vampire, whereas Yuta who was a human, was recently turned, and therefore needs to be extra careful with sunlight. Speaking of, Renjun’s fascination for aliens comes to light as he explains that Winwin and Yangyang are both actually from a planet known as Scorlirsus, having crash landed and yet to find a way back. Then there’s Haechan, who is apparently a demigod, the sun of Apollo at that, which gives his Fullsun nickname a whole new connotation. From half-demons to sorcerers, from sirens to angels; besides the abundance of wolves, there are so many different species that you end up to losing track of them all. Except for poor Mark, who makes for an exceptionally talented human.

Another moment of silence springs up as you finish your drinks, only this one is a lot more comfortable, enjoying the presence of newfound company between your shy gazes and small talk. “Oh, you have something, right there,” Jaemin points out, breaking the silence. Before you know it, thumb reaching towards the edge of your lips as he wipes at the dried hot chocolate there before licking his finger clean. You’re dumbfounded at how casual he is about it, as if he didn’t just indirectly lick your face, then again, the gesture would be a lot less weird to wolves than to humans, so you simply shrug it off. Just about ready to toss out your trash, Jaemin grins mischievously your way as he aims his straw in your direction.

“Would you like a taste of my coffee, princess?” Two options, you realize, two options are all you have. Either taste his infamous coffee like a champ, or risk another jab at being a weak alpha for not being able to handle a little coffee. You nod, bracing yourself for whatever the taste of that drink from hell may be like, only to be utterly surprised instead.

In the blink of an eye, his drink is forgotten on the practice room floor, one of his hands on the floor beside his leg to balance him as the others lightly grips the back of your neck, holding you in place as he brings his lips to yours. Smooth, is all you can think as his tongue slides across your mouth, indirectly allowing you to taste his drink as he drinks in your lips instead. Once again, he’s teasing you for the blush on your cheeks, cooing at how adorable he finds it; but all you can do is laugh, because it’s not like he was faring any better. Jaemin’s eyes bore into yours, wordlessly asking for permission to kiss you again, to which you respond in turn by meeting him halfway, just as eager.

Rather than one deep kiss, you both share a series of softer kisses, an almost childish air to the way he handles you. As you slide over, wanting to get a little closer, he pulls you to sit onto his lap instead, placing an innocent kiss at the skin of your exposed shoulder before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His hands are running through your hair, the world feeling like it slowed down until only this moment was occurring. In the dead silence, your brain comes up with an idea, and it isn’t long before it uncontrollably tumbles out of your mouth.

“Do something crazy with me?”

“And what would that be, princess?”

“Run away with me,” you take a deep breath before continuing, “just for a little while. Let’s escape this stuffy company, our schedules, everything. Let me show you a beautiful place not far away.” Your eyes are downcast as you play with his hands, unconsciously holding your breath as you wait for a response. To your surprise, Jaemin beams a beautiful smile your way, his crinkling eyes the sign of genuine happiness.

“Lead the way,” his deep voice rumbles low in his chest, no hesitancy as he chooses to follow you wherever you shall lead, placing a kiss on the back of your hand to seal the deal. You’re both rushing to toss your trash out before running downstairs again, chasing each other not unlike the way two puppies would when playing around. It’s already late when you both sneak out from the company, the stars shining brightly overhead as you both shift into wolf forms once you're at a safe distance away from the craziness of the building, safe from any possible prying eyes.

You both run on and on for awhile, playfully bumping into one another on purpose or pushing a snout towards the other, before eventually arriving at your destination; a beautiful field of flowers far away from the city, where all the stars are visible and no one is around to bother you. After cooling off some from the long voyage, you end up laying side by side, still in your wolf forms as you don’t often get to have the luxury to be so free. Taking in the view of the large mass of red beside you, you take note of the beautiful rouge coat Jaemin is sporting, a colorful contrast to the sleek black fur you were donning. His golden eyes bore into your own, a light blue so pale it appears gray, akin the gleam from the moon casting down from overhead.

What would appear to anyone else as barking and whining is the result of both you and Jaemin conversing, talking about anything and everything, and he thanks you for taking him somewhere so beautiful and peaceful. Exchanging a nuzzle or two before ending up turning to lay almost as if you were spooning, only you’re all curled up, just barely laying atop him, you revel in the comfort you receive solely from being around one another. Perhaps the phrase “puppy love” wasn’t as bad as you’d always thought, maybe it was that feeling of finally finding someone they click well with, or a chance encounter with their mate.

You had both unintentionally fallen asleep under your favorite tree, deep in a peaceful slumber as your chests rise and fall with each breath, waking up just as the sun is about to begin its ascent. You’re the first to awake, blinking the sleep from your eyelids as you look down and take note of hands where paws had been, wondering when you’d both transformed back, and silently praying there wasn’t mud all over Jaemin’s jacket. Realizing you better head back in case people had already realized that Jaemin was missing all night long, your attempt to wake up the sleeping boy. Try as you might, it takes great effort to even get him to open his eyes, let alone stand up. He slowly stretches out before laying flat on his stomach, head tucked into his arms, and you’re forced to poke and prod until he lets out a loud whine, almost as if to say just five more minutes, mom. Opting for a different approach, you turn him over so that his head is in your lap, brushing the hair out of his eyes as you do so.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you quip.

“’s not even sun up yet,” Jaemin slurs, rubbing sleepily at his long lashes.

“We have to head back before anyone realizes we’ve been out all night, do you really want to risk getting into trouble right before your comeback?” He hums as you run a hand through his blonde tresses, looking up at you almost with a sparkle in his eyes at the sight before him.

"Responsible,” he murmurs, “no wonder you’re the alpha.” You’re not sure whether that was a compliment, but choose to take it as such regardless, as being the alpha did require a lot of determination and patience. There’s no rush to the way Jaemin gets up, taking his sweet time as if he had all of it in the world, placing a soft press of his lips to your forehead before he’s on all fours, ready to transform again. Following suit, you join him on the ground, a similar scene to the night before playing once again as the two of you make your way back to the company building.

Things are surprisingly calm as you both shake the dirt off your human bodies, successfully sneaking back into SM and quietly reaching that abandoned practice room in desperate need of remodeling you’d used as a dining room the night prior. It isn’t long before the two of you are crashing onto the raggedy couch together, exhausted from your interrupted sleep as well as all the travelling. This time, when you wake up, your limbs are entangled with your face in his chest, having been found by Jaemin’s fellow members of Dream. Being teased by said Dreamies wasn’t the optimal way to wake up, far from it, really; all four of them were utterly noisy, until Jaemin shoot up and protectively wraps an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. You swear you hear light snores still escaping him as his head lays on your shoulder, half of his chest pressed into his back as he can’t hold his own weight up.

In the meantime, you take to chatting with Jeno, getting to know more about himself and his pack, learning a lot about this giant, intermingled group of beings. When you ask Renjun about vampires because you're curious, you explain that you had only ever heard of them, having yet to meet one in person. He prattles off about basics before getting distracted by Jisung and his haphazard shapeshifting, and you wonder how poor Mark ever dealt with being the de facto leader of this misfit group of teens, let alone doing so while being the only one without supernatural abilities. The boys have to head off again to practice, and you shake Jaemin awake, not gentle in the slightest as you treat him almost like a glowstick. He asks for a moment with you, the others teasingly making smooching sounds before high-fiving amongst themselves and walking out, warning him that if he wasn’t at practice in five minutes that they’d tattletale about his night away from the dorms. The threat hangs loosely in the air after they vanish, however.

“Thanks for letting me nap on you,” he smiles cheekily as he stands up. “I do have a serious question though,” Jaemin clears his throat, “I know we just met and all, but I have a feeling we get along really. There’s still time to figure things out, but I was kind of sort of hoping that maybe you felt the same way and that maybe… you’d like to go out sometime?” A whole nap in a secluded forest later and the boy is still shyly rocking on his feet as he officially asks for you to be his. You disguise the snort you let out as a cough, standing up as well now to look him properly in the eyes.

“I would love to go out with you again sometime, Jaemin.” Quickly exchanging numbers before he has to run off for practice, Jaemin is almost at the door when he comes running back, stealing one last kiss as his hands cup your face, wide awake at the burst of energy coursing through his veins at his elatedness to your response.

“Guess we’re mates now, it’s official,” he jests, winking at you as he lets out a short giggle. Your cheeks are too smooshed to reply, so you opt for jokingly rolling your eyes at him instead. “And the alpha at that… tell me, am I really that charming, princess?” He whines as you swat at his arm, the harmonious laughter of two young souls falling in love oozing in the otherwise dreary room. You’re disrupted by someone clearing their throat, taking note of the figure standing in the doorway.

“Hey Jaemin, I just got back. Renjun sent me to-” the boy you now recognize to be Haechan freezes as he takes in the sight before him, quickly switching into an almost condescending demeanor. “Aww, did the little Reddie finally find is mate?” Haechan freezes mid-laugh where he had been walking over, recognizing you as his idol crush when he walked close enough to see your face. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” His incessant whines fall upon deaf ears, too busy laughing at how quickly his moods changed. With a pat on the back, you usher your now boyfriend and potential mate along with his bandmate out the door, mentally preparing yourself for the berating your charming pal Sayuri was sure to deliver, all the while snuggling deeper into the jacket still clinging to your form, comfortably wrapped in his scent.

While the future is never clear and life may be unpredictable… things were certainly about get a lot more interesting with these troublemakers around, that much was certain.

[flowersfrombefore]

Flowers and Pianos Ch3  (Roger Taylor X Greta Stirling) (OC)

featuring, John Deacon and his new OC, Don’t @ me I spell it Deacy. 

A/N: And here we see, Deacy is now a character and has an OC of his own. They won’t be an upfront part of the story but they are still there and I love them. I know I wrote less for Deacy but that’s cause he’s not my main character oof don’t fight me Greta is my girl and she gets the attention. 

Editing isn’t real, also tumblr is being weird with links so I will link ch2 on this a bit later. 

Warning: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex

Word count: 3469 (It’s a long one bois) 

@goodoldfashionlovergirl Here’s your chapter darling, I hope you like how I wrote you <3

                                                        John

It was simple really, John was not used to being in a situation of these sorts. It wasn’t like him at all. It was more Roger’s area of expertise, waking up with lingering feelings for someone he’d just met. He wouldn’t think of speaking of it to anyone, even though weeks had passed and it had still been on his mind.

She was small next to him when they’d stood together over the piano in the mansion. He stood about a foot taller than her and she’d had to stand up on the piano bench to kiss him. She’d had short locks that curled around her ears, even though parts of it fell messily around the shape of her face. She’d joked that she hated how it looked until he brushed a strand of it behind her ear and told her he thought it was beautiful. Her fingers absently played notes on the piano as they spoke like her hands needed something to do. Even absently it was still beautiful, the only coherent sounds echoing through the room of drunken musicians.

It had been weeks and she was still imprinted on his mind.

They hadn’t slept together, they’d simply talked so long that they’d fallen asleep in each others arms well before the sun ever came up. So why was it, John couldn’t stop thinking, that he couldn’t get her out of his head.

He could still feel her head on his chest as the nodded off as the party died down. Everyone had been too drunk to do much but they had hardly drank at all. A little tipsy perhaps but they had been to wrapped up in each others words to pay much attention to the alcohol. He kept telling himself that it was nothing, that she wouldn’t even remember him. But it had been weeks and she was still burned into his mind.

The reality was that he knew exactly why. Empty promises aren’t so empty when it came to him.

“What if we find a way to take you and your band with us?”

“John we’re on completely different schedules it would be impossible.”

“But if we could, if we could find a way, would you want to stay with me. I mean..you know what I mean.”

“Than consider me yours.”

…Unless they couldn’t.

He was quite frankly at a loss for how to deal with anything that was going on. He’d considered consulting Roger but he had decided the way they ran their…affairs…were rather different.

He found himself stuck in his head quite a bit as a result. Still able to play, still able to act normal for the most part, but she was always in the back of his mind. And he was always subconsciously thinking of ways that he could make sure they saw each other again. Many times he cursed himself for entertaining the thought that she’d even remember him. He knew he always got a little too emotionally invested in things, the boys told him, girls he’d hooked up with told him, and he’d more times than he’d like to count, told himself.

“Deacy! If you could please pay a little bit more attention I think we’d all greatly appreciate it. We do need our bass player if we are going to do this show.” John snapped out of thought at the sound of Roger’s shrill voice and hurriedly set about finishing his soundcheck.

“Come on Deacy, you know you can actually talk about your problems instead of keeping them in right?” Roger half shouted to John as they walked back to their hotel rooms together. It was the first time he’d brought up even the thought that John was acting different.

“Who says I have anything I need to talk about?” John tried to speed ahead of Roger when he saw his room down the hallway.

“Literally everything about you right now screams ‘I need to talk about my problems but I’m too stubborn to do so’ and that’s enough for me.” Roger was almost running now, trying to keep up.

They’d reached his door,  but before John had the chance to unlock it Roger planted a hand on his shoulder and turned him so they were face to face. “It’s nothing for you to worry about Roger, really it’s only a rather meaningless matter and there’s no use concerning yourself over it or me.”

“Oh so we’re getting into extreme proper English now? Deacy come on what is it? We’re all a little worried, you’ve been quieter than usual.”

“I’m always quiet Roger.” The look Roger gave to this was one that clearly stated something along the lines of ‘I refuse to leave you alone until you tell me everything.’ And John conceded to tell him the truth. He turned his back to Roger to unlock the hotel rooms door and motioned for him to come in. He shut the door behind them with his back, leaning his head back to hit the door. “I met a girl and I haven’t been able to get her out of my head in weeks and I’ll probably never see her again. That what you want to hear Rog?” He had to admit, finally saying it out loud felt good, like a weight off of his chest. Well a little bit of it anyway.

“That’s what you’re so fucked up about? Did you sleep with her? Cause Deacs I’ve got some news for you if that’s the problem.” Before Roger could finish his sentence, which John knew would end in ‘just sleep with someone else and you’ll be fine’ he cut him off.

“I didn’t sleep with her Roger so you can throw whatever your solution is right out the door.”

It went silent for a moment and John was sure that Roger was just trying to come up with some kind of joke to make or piece of crap advice that wouldn’t help. He was about to tell him to leave, that he decided he didn’t want to talk about it after all when Roger piped up with something far more normal than expected.

“Where did you meet her?” Something normal from anyone else but not words that anyone would hear from Roger much. It was a rapid change of pace as well. John was a little shocked that what came out of his friends mouth wasn’t some kind of joke. It was a genuine curiosity by his tone. With something else in it that wasn’t a usual tone used by the blond. Wistful?

“Bowie’s album release party a few weeks ago. Same night you disappeared for almost a day. We’ve met her band before. ‘Fireside.’”

“Deacy, I need you to tell me her name.” Roger spoke fast and abrupt as if the name had made him panic but John didn’t have an inkling as to why. He looked over to Roger and saw that his friends eyes were wide and practically desperate. For good reason John was confused, seeing as he had no reason to think Roger was connected to the situation in the least.

“Samantha, Samantha Eliot.”

Roger let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“Rog? What are you talking about?

“Because I disappeared that night with a girl, and that-that’s her band too.”

John let out a chuckle and slid to the floor with his back still pressed against the door. “And why exactly would you care if it was the same girl, it’s not like you’ve ever cared about things like that before.”

“Because, she’s different.” John gave him a look and Roger laughed in response. “God I never thought that sentence would come out of my mouth.”

“Was it the redhead who plays bass? Greta?” Roger nodded mournfully. John’s observations from before had been correct than, he thought. Something was off with the way Roger had been talking when John brought up a girl and this was why. He’d fallen too, or as close to falling as he thought Roger could get. They went quiet as they both thought through their own night at that party, both reopening the still not healed wounds that the night had left.

“I promised her I wouldn’t be with anyone else if we could be together. She was going to come with us, we were going to find some way and now it’s been weeks and there’s no way in hell that I’ll see her.” Roger paused and studied his hands. “Or that you’ll see Sam.”

“I told her that if we could find a way to get them on tour we could be together too. How bloody dumb are we. We know it doesn’t work to try and be with other bands. What the hell was I thinking?”

“Well if it was anyone else I’d say you were thinking with your cock but it doesn’t seem like you  were. And I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this from me again but neither was I.” Roger got to his feet after a moment and offered a hand to John, helping himself up from his place on the floor. “C’mon, let’s get a fucking drink.”

The boys made there way out the door before Roger stopped for a moment. “We’ll find them Deacy. If anyone can fuck you up enough to be like this they’re worth it. We’ll get them back.”

                                                    Greta 

Greta sat in front of the window to the porch that attached to their room. They’d not drawn the curtains to let the sun in and it left her hair bathed in the sunlight, making the red glint or darken with every turn of her head. Her leg was thrown over the arm of her chair with the other tucked under her. Absently she strummed at her guitar losing herself in the chords and in the white walls that she had been staring at on and off for days.  

Samantha watched her from her spot on the bed. She’d found the darkest place in the room she could and had tangled herself up in all the blankets to be found. Her glasses were left on even though they were rather uncomfortably being pushed askew on her face by the pillows she lay on. It was worth it though, she wanted to get the image of Greta in her mind enough to be able to paint it later.

It was the first day off that the band had had in weeks and it was a very welcome break. Sam and Greta had hardly had time to talk to each other, they were either at a show, at an interview or sleeping when they had the time.

“You look like a fairy sometimes. Almost makes me jealous.” Sam let slip after seeing Greta toss her hair out of her face with one elegant move.

Greta chuckled and turned her head to where Sam now sat with her sketchbook in hand. “You’ve been so quiet I almost forgot you were there. Also that’s bullshit don’t be jealous of me when you’re over there looking like a damn princess.”

“Alright fine, I’ll never say I’m jealous as long as you stay right there and don’t move so I can draw you. Lighting is perfect.” Greta rolled her eyes but only to joke with her, she really didn’t mind at all.

Sam didn’t usually talk while she worked, at least when she was first starting out and it allowed Greta’s thoughts to slip back where they had been before.

Onto him.

Weeks had gone by and she was still caught up on him. She wasn’t exactly surprised but it was an odd feeling for her. She’d never been so struck by a person before, not even Sarah. That was the other part that she found odd. When Sarah cheated on her, Greta had not been able to get over it, the images were burned into her brain and it hurt to even think about her. Now? Nothing. It was as if any shred of feelings she had had for Sarah had blown out the window the moment a drunken blond Roger Taylor had stumbled into her life, literally.

The trouble was that there was nothing in her that wanted to forget about him. It wasn’t normal for her, when everyone else she’d ever hooked up with easily meant nothing within the next day. It bothered her to know that this was the first time she may have had some kind of real feelings for anyone and he was gone. The promise had been kept though, by her at least. She’d been with no one else, not looked at anyone else, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would be able to find him and that they could be together.

A sickening thought crept into her head that made her question everything she’d thought over the past weeks. ‘All of this is based on one god damn night where I was too drunk to stop myself.’ It made her sick to think of, because it was a likely answer, but she refused to let the thought linger long. She’d had plenty of drunk sex before. None of it ended with weeks of still wanting them.

“Greta! Snap out of it sunshine you’ve hardly breathed in ten minutes.” Greta impulsively jumped at the loud exclamation, then realized that she really hadn’t moved in a while. Her fingers were still clamped hard on the chords of her guitar.

“Sorry love, I was just thinking about something.”

Sam hummed and continued to draw letting the quiet settled back over them, only a subtle strum of a guitar could be heard occasionally.

“Sams? Could you draw flowers in my hair?” It came out sadder than she wanted it to, apparently she wasn’t going to be very good at hiding her tone of voice when she brought up things that reminded her of Roger. Flowers…. It was such a small thing. He loved them, he’d told her and it was what she’d wanted to call him. To tease him a little she supposed but also because it had been rather endearing, to hear this boy drunkenly gush about how pretty he thought flowers were.

“Could work I think.” Sam looked up from her drawing to see tears brimming on her friends eyes, not an often occurrence. “What’s wrong, you okay?”

“Honestly? No Sams I’m not, I’m not even though I should be because it shouldn’t matter.” She knew she was babbling again but she couldn’t help it, but her tears were starting to choke her and she cried through her next words. “ It shouldn’t fucking matter and it still does and I hate myself for it. I hate it. I don’t want to miss him. Why do I miss him?” She dug her palms into her eyes trying in vain to stop crying.

“He? I thought it would be about Sarah.” Sam said softly as she set her sketch down and came to sit in front of Greta. The redhead scoffed and wiped her tears away the best she could when they were still flowing down her face. Sam was the only person who’d known about Sarah, the only person who could be trusted with that secret. In fact she was the only person Greta knew who she could trust with any secret of the sort.

“Oh fuck Sarah! She’s not worth shit. I stopped crying for her as soon as I…” Greta didn’t want to say it outloud, she felt like it was admitting some kind of weakness, but she needed to tell someone or she’d explode. “As soon as I kissed him Sarah didn’t matter.” She got quiet as she tried to stop crying. “No one else matters Sam.”

Samantha knew that there was nothing she could say yet, she needed to let her cry. She did however reach a hand up and intertwined their fingers. It wasn’t her usual way of showing love but it was what Greta responded to. Earlier than she thought, Greta spoke up, her voice still wavering a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“When did it happen?”

“Bowie’s party a few weeks ago.” By now she’d regained her normal poised aura. But it was compromised by the glint that was still left in her eyes from crying. “Anyway now that I’ve gotten that out.” Within a moment she’d flicked her hair out of her face and turned on a concerned smile, it was what she hid behind. “What’s been going on with you because I know something’s off.” She gave Sam’s hand a final squeeze and then withdrew her own to go back to the fret of her guitar.

“Funny you should mention both of those things. Guess both of our lives got fucked up on the same day. Now tell me who it was or I won’t tell you who mine was.” Sam cocked an eyebrow up at her friend trying to get her to breakdown her little wall of concern. “Greta come on it’s me you don’t have to pretend it didn’t matter if it did. Now who was it?”

“You’ve met him before, you didn’t like him.” A smile tugged at the side of her mouth, anticipating the reaction this would get from Sam. “He’s from Queen.” Sam’s mouth fell open.

“Greta Stirling! You did not hook up with Roger fucking Taylor! No. No way in hell did you fuck that absolute ass. What were you thinking?” Maybe the exclamation would have made more of an impact if she hadn’t started laughing halfway through it.

“I did.” Greta chuckled and gave a little over dramatic bow. “And yes I got attached don’t yell at me it just happened. Now are you gonna tell me who your mystery man was.”

“Greta you’re not going to believe this we got the same band in the same night. It was John. The quiet one that you talked to when we met them.”

Both girls sat a little in shock for a few moments. Greta’s mind was racing fast now, she had a reason now. To get back to him. She’d do anything for Sam and if Sam wanted to be with John….

“Hold on. Sams you’ve never hooked up with anyone in your life. Did you fuck him?”

“What? No I wouldn’t do that you know me better than that Greta.”

“So this is based off what? You guys talking for a single night? Not judging just wondering.” A look almost of guilt seemed to take over Sam’s face and Greta immediately felt awful. “Hey, really I’m just asking I know it’s different for you. What happened with you guys?”

“I was playing piano in the house cause the crowd was giving anxiety you know? And he just came over and was watching me play. And he just started talking to me and I don’t know at first his voice irked me but then we kept talking and it just became the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. He’s so smart Greta it’s insane. And he’s got such a dorky laugh but it’s adorable. I don’t even know what to say about him besides he’s just….” As she listened Greta was absolutely enchanted by her friend gushing over this boy. It didn’t happen often. It managed to make her smile until her cheeks hurt and she laughed a little when Sam couldn’t find the proper words to describe him.

“Darling it sounds like you fell. Can’t say I don’t approve he’s a sweetheart.”

“I don’t know. I just…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and I feel so dumb for thinking he remembers me but he said if we could find a way he’d want me to stay with him.”

Greta reached out and stroked her friends cheek, giving it a playful swat. “You’re not dumb Sams. You just found someone.”  She looked away and out the window where the sun was still beaming through. “Roger promised me that he’d stay with me to. But it’s ridiculous to think he kept it when we’ve been away.”

Sam got to her feet and offered Greta a hand. Greta took it and put her guitar down so she could get up. “C’mon, we’re gonna go talk to the boys about the rest of our tour schedule.” This was the most determined Greta had ever heard Sam sound.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like him but if some boy can make you cry and not want to be with anyone else you should stay with him. That’s the most real unguarded emotion I’ve ever seen from you and it was beautiful. You’re gonna find him. And maybe Deacy remembers me. We’re going to find them.”

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[cod-rum]

Okay so I have kinda gotten obsessed with the idea of what 2D and Murdoc would do while on plastic beach. Not rlly in a romantic way and besides the abusive shit, what do you think they would do. I can't stop thinking about it

Disclaimer: I became a fan after Phase 3 and after the website went down, so all my knowledge of the phase’s story comes from like, three interviews and what I’ve seen on tumblr

I think when they started recording, 2D would attempt to ask what’s up with the lyrics. Like, what the heck Murdoc. What are you doing, kidnapping people and making killer robots, then writing a bunch of melancholy love songs? “Our love, broken” are you okay old man. Murdoc would ofc refuse to talk about it

I think regardless of 2D mostly being confined to his room, they would have avoided each other a lot when they weren’t recording/doing press stuff. 2D was getting over his hero worship of Murdoc and starting to be very done with his bullshit, and Muds was in a really bad mental state and wasn’t very good company to anyone

Every now and then 2D would be woken up at 2am by a very drunk Murdoc, who would proceed to semi-coherently ramble about how he’d killed Noodle, and he’d tried to replace her but she wasn’t the same, and now he just had two daughters he’d let down. 2D mostly listens, but sometimes he likes to add to the list of things Murdoc has done wrong. It’s a very long list. It takes a while to get through. Eventually Murdoc crawls off to his room, but he never outright apologises. They don’t speak about it in the morning.

One time, during another drunk heart-to-heart, 2D asks why the hell he’d see Murdoc as a father figure. He’s abusive, inconsiderate, feels no love for the singer and forces his to perform against his will. Murdoc looks confused. “Don’t be thick, 2D. All fathers do that. Right?” 2D doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t bring it up again.

The tour was something of a disaster, as being trapped in a dressing room with Murdoc was not 2D’s ideal way to spend a month of evenings, but during the day when they were travelling, the pressure eased a bit. They had other people to bounce off of, and The Fall was in production, earning some actual genuine praise from Murdoc. There is no canon backing for this at all but I still believe 2D wrote Amarillo to be about Murdoc becoming his father

I think the Rhinestone Eyes incident cut short their attempts to repair their friendship, but I like to think once 2D was signed on to phase 4, he threw Murdoc in a room, yelled at him for an hour, and made it clear he was doing the album for himself and if Murdoc tried anything he would break his nose a sixth time. at which point they probably had a drink and attempted the friendship they have in phase 4

On a semi-related note: I think, while he’s a little afraid of Cyborg Noodle, he’d try to be friends with her. After all, it’s not her fault she’s a living weapon made to guard an idiot bassist. She wasn’t really programmed to do the whole social thing but she gets on well with 2D, and she’s still in contact with him as she cycles headless around the country

[mrmichaelchadler]

NYFF 2018: La Flor

I stopped playing sports of any kind at about age eight. I had asthma, I hated running, I didn't like being in extreme heat or rain for a goal I didn't understand, and most of all, I hated competition. Film always made more sense to me. You only had to watch what you wanted and there were a million ways to view any given work. Right around the end of high school something funny happened. I started making a list of all the films I thought I should see, the ones regarded as classics, or that kept cropping up in the magazines and books I was reading. The one constant were the films of almost inconceivable length. “Shoah,” “Heimat,” “Sátántangó,” “Berlin Alexanderplatz,” “Empire,” “Out 1,” and more exceeded five hours of viewing. What could possibly happen in such a runtime? Were these films simply elaborate dares? It seemed to me like they were competing with each other, and by extension with the viewers foolhardy enough to watch. Suddenly I found the kind of competition I liked. 

In college I first dipped my toes in the absurd challenge of watching the longest movies ever when I found myself between a Kentucky Derby party happening in the house in which I lived, no car to drive anywhere, and the director's cut of "1900." I opted for the movie, the way I always do. The film nearly defeated me as it refused to end well past the point of having anything new to say about fascism or the direction of Italy's intellectual radicals. Struck me that Pasolini, his teacher and friend, was dead and Bertolucci wanted us to know what Italy, and the world lost, every time someone like the great poet died. And maybe if the film never ended Bertolucci never had to return to a reality without him. 

“La Luna,” his next film was two and a half hours and begins with the death of a father, which bore out my hypothesis. There was something about the length that felt like a plea. I watched the 13-hour “Berlin Alexanderplatz” a few weeks later, split over two days, and loved it. The length made sense. The novel Rainer Werner Fassbinder was adapting was baroque and intricate, and he had to convey with completeness the mindset of a German before Nazism crawled into his and every other German's consciousness. There was also that it was nearly the last thing the enigmatic wreck directed before his death in 1982. 

I've since watched too many films to count with epic lengths, several of them by Lav Diaz, and it's rare that they earn their length. Diaz's work is about wearing you down because he has chosen to make movies about the perpetually worn down. He gets us, or tries to, to see life as a pregnant Filipino woman would, screaming for better fortune and empathy from a cruel and empty world. When the six-hour “A Century of Birthing” ended I don't know that I felt anything except the peculiar sensation that if I went outside I might find myself in the Philippines. A herculean duration is not to be abused, because at its best, a long movie, or even just a very long shot, can teach us to form a relationship with an image. Chantal Akerman's three-hour “Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles” teaches us to question the purpose of a camera, its placement in a room, its function as a capturing mechanism, and what it can teach us about ourselves. Jeanne Dielman, like nearly every Akerman film, tells an audience what the life of its female protagonist feels like. The monotony, the repetition, the silence, it's still unlike any film about domestic femininity and objectification ever made, and part of that is its fearless patience. 

I don't usually have cause to sit and think about the relative productivity of runtime but for a fellow named Mariano Llinás. I haven't seen his breakthrough, "Extraordinary Stories," which runs a cool four hours, so had never thought about him or his work, until suddenly they were all I could think about. His new movie “La Flor” was playing New York Film Festival, and it was 14 hours long. Calum Marsh said it might be his new favorite film. I was intrigued. The competition returned. I had to sit through it all in one go, there was nothing else for it. But what kind of long movie was this to be? Llinás himself appears in the beginning to explain: six parts, four without endings, one without a beginning and one with everything. Each would star the actresses Elisa Carricajo, Valeria Correa, Pilar Gamboa and Laura Paredes, and each would be in a different genre. Alright, pal, game on. 

The first part of six was no help in divining the film's purpose or meaning. It's a (perhaps purposely) shoddy b-movie, a story about a mummy's vengeful spirit possessing an archeologist after she steals the old fossil's eyes. The film is (perhaps purposely) a collection of hysterical actions, from the long and busy conversations caught in minutes-long steadicam shots, the frequently howled dialogue, the preponderance of murderous cats and the red glowing eyes of the mummy. I thought it wouldn't have been such a bad VOD horror movie if it'd cut about thirty minutes off the hour and forty minute runtime. It felt self-indulgent for such a (perhaps purposely) slight genre movie. Part 2 muddied things even further. A couple going through a terrible break-up have to reunite to write and record a new album. Their early recordings, when they were together, were massive hits, and now their songs are loaded with bitter, barbed portent. A mutual friend of theirs hears both sides of their story, but she's not without ulterior motives. She's in deep with a strange scorpion-worshipping cult with nefarious designs on the songwriting duo. Just what they plan is never divined because the film ends right when everyone's about to confront each other. 

Part three is many hours itself and concerns rival spies and their shared mission to kidnap a rocket scientist. It's a parody of spy movies but finds time for grace in its empathetic look into each member of the team's outlook on life and the violence that brought them together. This film ending before it's reached its conclusion is less a problem as it's quite plainly just about the puppet strings pulled by fate and the little left to us to contemplate. The fourth part is perhaps the most successful, following the crew of the movie we're watching as they try to create the segment we're watching. It goes haywire as Llinás get obsessed by filming Trumpet Trees and then he and his crew are in some kind of accident that drives them all mad. A paranormal investigator is dispatched to deal with the aftermath of their calamity. The fifth part is a silent remake of Jean Renoir's "A Day In the Country." The sixth part is shot like a series of tintypes, a telling of the struggle of four indigenous women. Then there are 40 minutes of end credits over an upside shot of the crew cleaning up after the last shot. 

There are long movies and there are long movies. Llinás it seems, is just as competitive as I am because there is, quite frankly, no reason this film had to be 808 minutes long. He did it because he could, because how many 13-and-a-half-hour movies are there in a calendar year? Very few, and this film reminds us, there's good reason. He shows up in the middle of the third episode to tell us there are three and a half hours left in the chapter. To put it bluntly, he's fucking with us. When it was revealed in hour ... ten? Maybe? that I would be watching a pointlessly silent remake of one of the most perfect films ever made, I almost threw my shoe at the television. Part of the problem is that Llinás, in his hubris, imagined that he could dictate how the film would be consumed. He put in a dozen intermissions and requested it be broken up at such and such a place. That's all well and good but when a movie is done it's out of your hands. It's not a symphony that has to be conducted at a certain speed, it's a movie that will some day wind up on streaming services, likely watched in half-hour chunks like it's "Fuller House." I watched it all in one day and this movie is not designed to be watched in one day. If anyone involved in programming or making it had done what I did they would never have made this film this long because it has no rhythmic coherence. And if a film cannot be watched whole it cannot be watched at all. 

The various extravagances of “La Flor” could be pardoned or loved in smaller doses, but recommending a day of one's life for an hour of reward seems like just as much a trolling as popping up to tell your audience how much longer they have before they then have five more hours left of a movie. Which is not to say I only enjoyed an hour of the movie, but I'd say in the context of each passage, there were sections that made each chapter worth watching (except perhaps in the unconscionably dull second part). "The Day In the Country" remake is basically numbing and pointless, especially since I'd been on a couch for an entire day before it began, except that near the end a section of audio from the original film appears on the soundtrack and Llinás starts filming single propeller planes in flight, dancing with each other in the sky like synchronized swimmers and I'm struck dumb. In that moment it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, I want to cry. Has the whole enterprise been worthwhile? A director with some idea of the shape of his opus would stop now but on we go to a superficially beautiful but deathly boring text-driven final act. Llinás does not know what he's done, does not know what the competitive cinephile will have done when he's heard there's a 14-hour movie calling to him from the annals of history ... or at the very least the wikipedia entry on the longest films ever made. 

The thing that galls me still, weeks after I've seen it, when I've successfully reduced it in my memory to the best parts--the side-splitting Monty Python-esque digression about trees, the planes cutting across the grey sky--is that it's patently selfish to ask anybody to spend more than a day watching a movie. I was not transported, I was not let in on the secrets of its creator, I was not told about the mindset of the average anybody. I did learn a few important things: “La Flor,” I truly believe, cannot be called a film. It is six films and a middle finger of a credits sequence, stitched together like the "Bride of Re-Animator" for the purpose of making a raving fool out of me, the viewer who took his intentions at face value. Some of these movies are better than others, but none of them justifies the other, and no single element justified my spending 13 and a half hours watching this. I look back on those moments of transcendence, where Llinás gets out of his own way, stops taunting me, and lets the movie be a movie, and wonder if they'd have been as remarkable in a standalone 90-minute work. 

I watched “La Flor” because “La Flor” dared me to watch it, and I have never shrunk from such a thing yet. This is what competition brings out in me and now I'm stuck with the secrets only a full day of movie can hold. A lifetime has passed since I scowled my way through soccer matches, praying to be taken off the field, and I haven't learned a thing. If nothing else, “La Flor” taught me that. A terrible price for a terrible truth, but the planes were lovely. 

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[anthonypaulh]

39 Years On and still OFF the WALL

On this day, August 10th, 39 years ago, music fans were about to hear one of the greatest pop music albums ever to be released. The record remains one of the best loved albums ever made and has retained a place in the record collections of millions across the World. Whether or not you are a fan of the artist concerned it doesn’t prevent anyone who listens to music of any kind, from realising that this piece of work was special in so many ways. Whether on vinyl, cassette, CD, or any format for that matter the album has outlasted them all and still sells huge numbers.

The fifth solo album of Michael Jackson’s career, and his first on the EPIC label has so far sold over 20 million copies Worldwide, 8 million of those in the USA, 4 million in the UK and 4 million in Europe. ( Us Brits buy a lot of music, not surprising I suppose as we make so much of it) .

The album of course is “OFF THE WALL” and I would wager that most people will have heard of it even if they themselves have not listened to it. Now, to be honest, I’m not the biggest Michael Jackson fan but it is obvious that he was a major, major talent. I’d like to think that I recognise a good record when I hear it and in this case it wasn’t just good, it was great.

The record is just one of those albums that music fans know. It’s Like The Beatles - Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run, Bob Marley - Exodus, Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Stevie Wonder - Songs in the Key of Life, Marvin Gaye - What’s Going On, Bobby Womack- The Poet I and II, Curtis Mayfield- A New World Order and so many others. They are classics that will always be respected and acknowledged.

The album “Off the Wall”,  was recorded in Los Angeles between December 1978 and June 1979, with a cast list which was practically a “who’s who “ of popular music. With the slickest of slick productions by music royalty Quincy Jones, it really couldn’t fail, although the story of the making of the record could have led to a very different outcome.

So, what was the background to the making of the album and why could “Off the Wall “ have actually fallen completely Off the Wall ?

To start with we need to look back at the history of The Jackson Five and their prolifically talented, boyish lead vocalist Michael Jackson. To fully understand what musical journey they undertook to end up with the Peter Pan of pop striking gold with “Off the Wall” you have to go back to Detroit via Philadelphia and New York.

The “Off the Wall “ story actually begins in Detroit when The Jackson Five were signed to MOTOWN, at the legendary “Hitsville USA” . The hit record factory established in 1959 by Berry Gordy after the encouragement of his friend and ally Smokey Robinson saw them sign the Jackson boys in 1969 and set them on the road to stardom.

They had numerous hits on the Motown label, such as their debut smash “I Want you Back”, followed by “ABC”, “I’ll be There” and “The Love you Save”. By 1970 The Jackson Five were the biggest selling Motown act and in his usual commercially savvy way Berry Gordy launched the Indiana boys into a television series and hundreds of products from colouring books to cereal boxes.

First and foremost Berry Gordy was a businessman, who wanted hits. He realised that to have hits he needed to appeal to a racially mixed audience and in so doing he accepted that he needed to make records that were unthreatening, simple pop. 

What the Jacksons and their management team didn’t know was that Motown had signed them to a contract which gave them only 2.8per cent of the royalties . As if that were not bad enough, they were severely restricted artistically and had little control over the musical content of their records. Just as Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder would defy the Berry Gordy requirement for simple, easy listening , unthreatening pop records, The Jackson Five knew that they had to escape the stifling, stranglehold that the Detroit label had over them.

So in 1975, The Jackson Five by now known as the “First family of Soul “ were more than happy to escape the Motown label. They could not take their brother Jermaine with them as he was married to the sister of Berry Gordy ( as an aside Marvin Gaye was wedded to another of Berry Gordy’s sisters too) but they signed with Philadelphia International Records a division of EPIC. The lure of working with the supreme production team of Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff on the Philadelphia label proved to be a major draw.

The Gamble and Huff team had been responsible for creating the “Philly “ sound in the early 1970’s, producing huge hits for The O’Jays, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, Billy Paul and MFSB. They were the 1970’s equivalent of the Jam and Lewis production team of the 1980’s, who ironically made huge hits with Janet Jackson.

Working with Gamble and Huff was a breath of fresh air for the Jacksons ( Motown refused to let them use the name The Jackson 5 after they left the Detroit label). Musically they could be more adventurous and they had full control over their material. The best of their work at Philadelphia International was probably “Show You the Way to Go”, “Can You feel It” and the huge disco hit “Shake Your Body down to the Ground”. It all formed a part of Michael Jackson throwing off the Motown shackles and changing his musical taste and direction. It was an education.

Working with Gamble and Huff was just a part of Michael Jackson’s musical transformation. In early 1978 he starred in the hit movie “The Wiz” as the Scarecrow, directed by Sidney Lumet. He studied the New York disco scene at the famous venue “Club 54” and realised that the music and dance he was witnessing would play a large part in his work going forward. Perhaps more importantly it was on “The Wiz” project that Quincy Jones who was arranging the score for the movie, promised Michael Jackson that he would produce his next album.

The musical transformation, the confidence gained in his role in “The Wiz” and the promise made by the most regal of music producers to direct his next record, meant that all of the stars were aligning for the Michael Jackson solo album that was coming. All the ducks were getting in a row and it was increasingly likely that the end product would be something special. For Michael himself, he was brimming with ideas and it was his good fortune that Quincy Jones could pull them all together into a coherent piece of work.

Had all these steps not been made it is doubtful whether Off The Wall would have ever got off the ground. There was many a battle ahead in producing the final album but the list of contributors for the project was incredibly impressive. Even so, some of the songs which were eventually included could easily have slipped away.

The track “Out of my Life “ was actually written for Frank Sinatra and the track “Rock with You” had previously been offered to Karen Carpenter albeit she declined to use it. The Paul McCartney track “Girlfriend” had originally been included in the 1978 Paul McCartney and Wings album “London Town”, so it was a big gamble whether it would work on a Michael Jackson record.

Even the employment of Quincy Jones as producer was very heavily resisted by EPIC records. They thought that “Q” was a bit too much of a musical heavyweight, rather too “jazzy” to produce a mainstream hit album. But Michael Jackson personally insisted on Quincy Jones. The record label actually preferred Gamble and Huff or Maurice White from Earth Wind and Fire. Both teams would have done a terrific job no doubt and they had incredible CV’s but “Q” it was.

The Quincy Jones production turned out of course to be sparkling but his cast of contributors were as good as anyone could call upon to make any record. High calibre musicians like Patti Austin and Jim Gilstrap on vocals, George Duke on synthesisers, Paulinho da Costa on percussion, Jerry Hey arranging the horn section, Louis Johnson ( from the Brothers Johnson who would also have a huge hit album “Light up the Night” including the massive single “STOMP”produced by Quincy Jones), Stevie Wonder and Rod Temperton as arrangers were huge stars in their own right. The record was literally an immaculate conception.

The biggest songs from the album were the title track “Off the Wall” , “Rock with You” and “Don’t Stop till you Get Enough”. The first two were both written by Rod Temperton the Englishman from the unlikeliest of places Cleethorpes (no disrespect to Cleethorpes but saying that it hasn’t borne too many superstars is putting it kindly). He had been responsible for numerous hits with his British soul /R and B band “Heatwave” in the early to mid 1970”s but working on the “Off the Wall” project was going up another level. It opened the path for him to work with Quincy Jones many times after that, including the next two Michael Jackson albums (He wrote the title track for “Thriller”) and then with George Benson (He wrote the title track “Give me the Night”) and The Brothers Johnson (“Light up the Night”).

The final version of “Off the Wall” became one of the most iconic pop records ever made. It is just about the perfect blend of disco, funk, soft rock, Broadway ballad and pop song. Like all great albums it has something for everyone and all of the tracks are strong. There are no weak links and of course the production, arranging and playing are faultless.

It is my humble opinion that the subsequent 2 Michael Jackson albums “Thriller” and “Bad” almost tried too hard. Of course they sold in absolute bucket loads and had their classic tracks but they somehow didn’t feel as exuberant as “Off the Wall”. Perhaps they were overproduced and after the “Bad” album Quincy Jones himself confirmed that he wouldn’t work on any other Michael Jackson projects. He probably realised that it was time to move on and he had seen the best of a truly great artist. As for Michael Jackson he seemed to become more and more troubled as the years passed and sadly the innocence and energy of “Off the Wall” faded.

The album has stood the test of time really well. If you give it a spin now it is still difficult to avoid moving or tapping a toe to the uptempo numbers or humming and whistling the ballads. It’s infectious. Music moves people, and this is an album that does that to this day. It is the best album that Michael Jackson ever recorded. “Thriller” sold 110 million records and “Bad”  sold 45 million but in my opinion they lost the innocence and sheer fun that “Off the Wall” captured.

For me “Off the Wall”  reflects a Michael Jackson who had finally found his musical freedom and revelled in it. Having left the suffocating Motown fluffy pop records behind him he had finally found his own musical path. He had absorbed the magnificence of the Gamble and Huff string filled, Philly sound. Via New York’s Studio 54 he had completed a musical and personal journey which Quincy Jones, assisted by a stellar cast of A list musicians and songwriters, finally turned into a masterpiece.

Rolling Stone magazine rated “Off the Wall” as number 68 in a 500 list of the greatest albums ever produced. As we celebrate the 39th anniversary of its’ release it is undoubtedly one of the most influential records of my lifetime. It transformed the Peter Pan of Indiana into the King of Pop. Sadly at just 50 years of age Michael Jackson died in tragic circumstances following a number of years of drug dependency and unhappiness. We can only reflect on a huge talent who lived a troubled life and died way too young.

His very best album “Off the Wall” was him at his exuberant, most joyful, energetic best. He appeared to be having fun and really enjoying his music. It is the best way to remember his incredible talent and recall that not only was he the voice of some of the greatest popular songs ever made but he was also the man that Fred Astaire said was the greatest dancer of his time.

Not bad for a boy from Gary, Indiana.

RIP Michael Jackson RIP Rod Temperton

Thank You for the music

[robbiefarlow-sidequestfitne-blog]

New Post has been published on Side Quest Fitness

New Post has been published on http://sidequestfitness.com/where-you-want-to-be/

Where You Want to Be (Revisited 13 Years Later)

Tell All Your Friends Where You Want to Be

Rolling Stone once profiled the 100 Best Debut Albums of All Time. The first album an artist releases has the power to propel them into our cultural zeitgeist seemingly overnight. But as a music fan, what’s compelled my curiosity, are the bands whose sophomore attempts become their best work.

For decades, bands with amazing debut albums have gone on to suffer from “the sophomore slump”—releasing sub par or disappointing second records. But there are bands who end up putting out their best work with their second album: Alice in Chains, Radiohead, Nirvana, and A Tribe Called Quest to name a few.

And as much as I love their first album, after a discussion with my friend John Romaniello, I have to admit: Taking Back Sunday’s second album, Where You Want to Be, is better than their first record. (And in many ways, it may be their best work.)

Growing Pains

Tell All Your Friends holds a special place in my heart, and it would be the first album I’d grab if I could only listen to 10 albums for the rest of my life. It’s important to me because Adam Lazzara attended my high school for a few years, which gave me the hope that I could escape my small town and still accomplish great things. And, there’s something about the music and lyrics (including the greatest love lyrics ever written) that helped define much of who I was in high school.

But here’s how I view the first two Taking Back Sunday albums: Tell All Your Friends (TAYF) is high school; Where You Want to Be (WYWB) is leaving your parents to live in your own space, but discovering that you never really escape high school.

In high school, there’s this overwhelming feeling that you can’t really defend yourself, you’re still not 100% independent, and more often than not, there’s this pervading feeling that it’s “You vs The World.” Or put another way: you feel defenseless, dependent, and alone.

As an adolescent, adulthood, even with its responsibilities, is often the place you wanted to be: a destination that means more freedom, independence, and an escape from the crushing world of high school hijinx.

Except those teenage feelings don’t evaporate once you toss your graduation cap. They continue to reverberate throughout most of your early 20s. And if you listen to Where You Want to Be, that’s what you hear: a more mature sounding band musically, but lyrically echoing angsty teenagers stuck in the same emotional cycle. Or as Adam so eloquently points out in the song, I Am Fred Astaire: “older, and wiser, still live with resentment.”

Swinging mics since 1999.

The Album That Almost Never Was

That mature sound almost never happened for Taking Back Sunday, though. In the winter of 2003, John Nolan—founding member, backup singer, and guitarist—along with bassist Shaun Cooper, left Taking Back Sunday; they would later form Straylight Run, and then return to TBS in 2010. According to rumors, Adam had been dating Nolan’s sister, who provided vocals on TAYF, and had presumably been unfaithful in their relationship. (Clearly, blood is thicker than water)

On the brink of breaking up, Adam and the rest of the crew began auditioning and reaching out to friends to join the band. They added Fred Mascherino on guitar and backup vocals, and Matt Rubano replaced Cooper as the bass player. Both Fred and Matt had attended jazz college, which allowed TBS a more diverse musical background to pull inspiration from.

And since Fred and Matt knew their instruments like Varys knows the happenings of Kings Landing, the quality of the guitar and bass in WYWB is cleaner, crisper, more cohesive, and frankly, provides TBS with the sound of a tried-and-true rock band.

Besides the technical improvements of the album, there are a few key places where WYWB stands apart from TAYF: drums, lyrics, and the overall cohesive sound.

Drums

When you listen to the music of the pop-punk or emo scene of the late 90s, you’ll hear something that all the drummers of that era share: a heavy reliance on bashing the shit out of their ride or crash cymbals. Early Blink-182 sounds like Travis is a happy-go-lucky 4-year-old banging away on pots and pans on his kitchen floor.

And when you listen to the drums on TAYF, you hear this strong reliance on ride and crash cymbals. “You Know How I Do” kicks off the album with damn near 60-seconds of O’Connell smashing his cymbal like he’s screaming, “Hey! We’re here, and you will listen to what we have to say. Because I’m gonna hit this cymbal until you pay attention to me.”

But on WYWB, there’s far less reliance on aggressive cymbal bashing. That doesn’t mean O’Connell foregoes using the cymbals. They’re still there in most choruses or breakdowns, and of course in a few intros—they are an important tool. But they’re less aggressive, more composed, and strategic than haphazard.

Again, if you look at TYAF as the high school kid who’s dependent on others for his identity, it makes sense that O’Connell would crash the hell out of his cymbals. Because at the time, that’s what all the “cool” kids were doing.

But if you look at WYWB as that same teen out in the world—independent and experimenting—moving toward his own identity as a mature adult, then it’s easy to see that during this process, O’Connell matured as a drummer.

Lyrics

Since their formation in 1999, TBS has had numerous members amongst its ranks. And every emo fan knows of the feud between one-time member Jesse Lacey, who later went on to found Brand New, and founding member John Nolan. That one incident went on to fuel numerous songs written by Lacey and Nolan.

For the most part, the lyrics in TAYF were co-written by Nolan and Lazzara. But Nolan’s departure left Adam with the responsibility of writing the lyrics for the second album. And lyrically, WYWB shows massive growth from Adam as a lyricist. The departure of Nolan and Cooper, along with Adam’s relationship misdeeds, may have provided him with the right amount of fuel to spark his own creativity as a songwriter.

Lyrically, you’re still getting a ton of the aches and pains of love, lost friendship, and betrayal. But some of what Adam deals with on this album covers topics like drug abuse, that gut wrenching realization that the world isn’t what you thought it was, the pain of unkept promises, and in the final track of WYWB,“...Slowdance on the Inside,” Adam flexes his muscles as a clever wordsmith—solidifying himself as a legitimate, thoughtful, and creative lyricist.

Again, if follow my running theme here, TBS has graduated, they’re maturing into adulthood. They may have similar themes as they did with TAYF, but their lyrics are deeper, more finely tuned, and show a maturity that comes from more of life’s experiences.

Cohesiveness

The big thing that Where You Want to Be does that Tell All Your Friends fails to execute upon is cohesiveness. Besides the angsty teenage driven lyrics of TAYF, musically, there’s very little cohesiveness in the overall voice of the album. But that makes sense if you look at TAYF as the unmatured teenager.

Teenage thought processes, for the most part, lack cohesiveness. In a matter of seconds, you could change how you think, or what you believe, because you either wanted to fit in, felt attacked and couldn’t defend yourself, or because you were trying to impress someone.

Examining and solidifying your thoughts and beliefs into a more coherent and cohesive package is a sign of maturity; that could be debatable in today’s world, however. Still, as we enter adulthood, venturing away from the safety of Mom and Dad, we’re hopefully exploring and piecing together our identity.

And for a band that was on the brink of destruction, TBS needed to show, not only the world but themselves, that they could mature as a band with a more unified sound.

They accomplished this cohesiveness in both the musicality and the storytelling side of the lyrics. The first three tracks of WYWB seize you by the scruff of your neck and refuse to let go until Adam has screamed his lungs out at the end of “A Decade Under The Influence.” Only then do they slow it down with “Photograph,” and even then they only slightly take their foot off the gas; it’s as if they’ve strapped you into this emotional roller coaster and said, “you’re coming on this topsy-turvy thrill ride with us no matter what.”

Like all good roller coasters, the album gives you a break from the emotional highs with “New American Classic.” It’s here, in the second part of the album, where the cohesiveness really shines through.

Corkscrews and Loop-da-Loops

Whether this was intentional or not, I don’t know. But, when the CD was released, on the back of the booklet, they had an A and a B side listed. At the time, I thought this was an homage to cassettes and vinyl of the past. What I didn’t realize until now, is that when you examine the lyrics of each song, it’s as if each side is telling a slightly different emotional aspect of the singer’s story.

In the beginning, there’s the anger, pain, and frustration between the vocalist and the girl he’s singing about. He’s screwed up; she’s screwed up; they pass blame on one another or onto their friends; they want to be with each other, but there’s this prevailing feeling that things are heading in a terrible direction. Adam and the band takes us on his tumultuous emotional roller coaster both lyrically and musically.

Now, you could look at “The Union” as a “break-up” song. But since it’s most likely Adam throwing shade at Nolan and Cooper, we’ll leave that song as a one off from the singer’s relationship issues. “New American Classic”, however, is that moment in the story where the two characters of this album have broken up. They lament about their failed relationship, and they want to get back together. But there’s this looming elephant in the room that they just can’t get past.

What happens after that? Well, like all of us at a young age, we get back together with our ex, hoping we can work it all out.

Pardon the Interruption

And then, as if to say, “we apologize for that brief interruption, now let’s get back to the ride,“ “I Am Fred Astaire” opens with a guitar squeal that signals it’s showtime. And then TBS jumps right back into their punchy melodic riffs, heavy bass drum beats, and Adam’s yearning vocals.

Side-B, however, is less aggressive. It’s not wholly somber, either, but it’s also not screaming in your face. The four tracks after “New American Classic” carry this almost hopeless sense of impending doom to the singer’s relationship.

Adam compares the relationship to a drug addiction, confesses that if they continue this way “they’ll die miserable and old,” and “Little Devotional” is about hiding infidelity from prying eyes. Then it all comes together in an emotional crescendo, the final loop-de-loop on the coaster, with “…Slowdance on the Inside.”

The Outro

Two years transpired between TAYF and WYWB, and a lot can happen in two years. But considering that this album was recorded in only a couple of months, it’s likely that the lyrics for WYWB reflect only a few months of the struggles in Adam’s life.

So maybe he did cheat on Nolan’s sister, and what we hear in these songs is his struggle of falling in love with his paramour, the dangers that relationship presented, and the conflict welling inside of him of being torn between two women.

Whatever the reasons for the lyrics, TBS delivered a cohesive sound lyrically and musically that helps WYWB stand the test of time. It’s not as raw as TAYF, and that’s okay. Musicians should mature. You can’t always play the same old crap year after year; it gets stale for fans, and it creates stagnation for an artist.

TAYF will forever and always be an album I put on, sing at the top of my lungs, and refeel all those high school feels. And though I felt disappointed at the time when WYWB was released, I now realize more than a decade later, and after a discussion with a good friend, that WYWB is a far better album—possibly their best.

Where You Want to Be still holds up musically and lyrically nearly 13 years after its release. And now that I’ve had time to develop as an adult, I can appreciate the more mature sounding band that TBS became while writing and producing this album. This was their first steps into adulthood and the first example that they were able to achieve what some of their other compatriots were not: the ability to mature as a rock band.