#already have a radiohead poster too

[costanzian]

making sure everyone at college knows i’m the worst

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

mickey milkovich x nude, radiohead

i don’t think that anybody can disagree that 1x07 is the episode where we learn the most about mickey milkovich. no, i don’t mean he showed any development or anything like that, but we learned something about him that made him significant for the rest of the show. something that never leaves, something that is important to him. in 1x07, we learn that mickey milkovich is gay, and we learn that he is willing to sleep with ian gallagher (even when his father and sister are in the house).

in 1x06, mickey kind of has an interaction with ian that we later see and are like, “yeah, he’s totally gay”, but back then it wasn’t stated that mickey was gay. mickey steals shit from the kash and grab, and he tells ian, “you know where i live if you have a problem” kind of instigating that ian should come over.

but in 1x07, mickey has stolen the gun from the kash and grab, and ian goes to mickey’s house equipped with a tyre iron, ready to take it back.

the “i want the gun back, mickey” scene needs no introduction or explanation. we all know what happened. we all watched in awe as mickey stood over ian and both of their breaths evened out and they made contact and… bam! they’re getting undressed, just like that.

later on, we are no stranger to gallavich and fighting then fucking. it’s something many people know them for, the fact that they’ll literally beat the shit out of each other and then immediately get on each other. but here, it was supposed to be for shock value because shameless utilizes shock value. to those who didn’t know gallavich was going to happen, watching mickey, the thug who had literally just attempted murder on ian, undress and fuck ian was surprising. later on, we can understand why it happened, but we were supposed to be shocked.

so, here’s where nude by radiohead comes in.

terry wakes up from a nap and goes to take a piss in mickey’s room (there’s a bathroom in there, he isn’t just pissing in it, lol). in there, ian and mickey are naked under mickey’s covers. around them, we see a poster of a woman and we also see a drawing mickey made that says “fuck love”.

so when terry comes out of the bathroom and looks at them both, he doesn’t do what season 3 terry does, he simply says “put some clothes on, you two look like a couple of fags!” and it’s a comical scene because, what the fuck, terry, aren’t you a homophobic murderer? you woke up to grunts and crashes coming from mickey’s room, then when you came in he and another boy are naked in his bed… what do you think they were doing?

so when mickey does put some clothes on, he puts on a radiohead shirt.

the shirt says “you’ll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking” and those are the last lyrics of the radiohead song “nude”.

so for those who haven’t listened to the song, here’s my analysis of why this song is associated with mickey milkovich and how it ends up foreshadowing his entire character for the next four seasons.

“don’t get any big ideas

they’re not gonna happen”

literally this scene. mickey caves and gives ian the gun back because lets be honest, it was really just bait. ian leans in to kiss him, and mickey has a look in his eyes where you can tell he wants to, but he can’t. he built this wall up years ago and he’s already cursing himself for letting it come down. terry instructed him to get dressed, and he puts on this shirt. and he’s trying to put this carefully constructed mask back on but he’s struggling. and so, he pushes ian away, “kiss me and i’ll cut your fucking tounge out”. there’s no malice in his tone, it’s a threat, but it isn’t threatening.

“you paint yourself white

and fill up with noise

but there'll be something missing”

mickey hiding in the closet, marrying svetlana, being a father to yevgeny, trying to act like the perfect son of terry. he still has this mask on and he tries to hide who he is but alas, he can’t. he loves ian too much and when he gets married and pushes him away, he’s still gay and in love.

“now that you found it

it’s gone”

upon being married, he tells ian that they can still bang. maybe being married to a woman makes him feel a bit more secure because although he despises it and it’s crushing him, he can keep his whole “king of the southside” thing. now that he’s married and unhappy, terry’s satisfied, and that’s all that matters- well, at one point it was. so he tells ian that they can still fuck, but suddenly, ian isn’t as eager and easy as he once was, and he leaves. he’s gone.

“now that you feel it

you don't

you’ve gone off the rails”

he’s out, he’s with ian, he has ian. things are supposed to be fine- but they’re not. ian’s unstable and has been hospitalized, and mickey breaks. he gets shitfaced and cuts his cheek and cries into ian’s jacket. that wall he once built up? the chest he puffed up, the posters he hung, the tattoos he got, they all mean nothing. it’s all gone. the wall and mask are gone, he’s more fragile than he once was. ian’s broken and it’s simultaneously breaking him too.

“so don't get any big ideas

they're not gonna happen”

this line is so mickey in s5, s6, s7, and s10. ian calling him and mickey running to see ian. he has hope. but no, ian breaks up with him, mickey is arrested, and when ian visits he desperately wants ian back. he tattoos ian’s name on his chest, specifically over his heart, and he practically pleads for ian to stay. then, mickey and ian are fleeing to mexico, and for a second, he has hope again. he fantasizes about he and ian at the beach, ian’s freckled skin being sunburnt, them swimming in the ocean together. for once, he can imagine his dreams being true. but they aren’t. he and ian are getting their marriage license, but ian’s hand wavers over the dotted line and he gives mickey that look and mickey breaks (…ian’s leg. lol). he keeps getting his hopes up and everytime he scolds himself for it because he just ends up hopeless.

then finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,

“you'll go to hell

for what your dirty mind

is thinking”

it’s in the 1x07 scene i’m talking about. terry instructs mickey to get dressed, he does, and he puts on a shirt that says this. and in that shirt, he seems odd. the confidence we see him have in 1x03 is no longer there. he doesn’t necessarily look vulnerable, but he isn’t the mickey he pretends to be. he caves and returns the gun, which was just bait for ian to come anyway, and he refuses to make eye contact with ian, but when he does, it’s almost coy? he’s ashamed. he’s thinking of things he know would get him killed and he hates himself for it. terry will end him if he finds out, and yes, he has the posters, the reputation, the persona, the tattoos, the guns, etc. but in the end, it’s all an act, and we can see it. the way he licks his lips, the way his eyes won’t focus, his body language says so much.

[ctallena]

maymay!!! i’m back 🎀

could you do the m3 with a grunge reader, what i’m trying to say is, like yk she wears baggy jeans, ripped up old band shirts, has nirvana, radiohead, deftones posters all over her wall, that kinda grunge 🙏🙏

OMG YESSS im grunge myself so i get it!! also i love ur music taste already based on the 3 bands u named

⋆ MAIN 3 WITH A GRUNGE READER :

✩ — STAN !

i headcannon him as grunge too, so...

calls u a loser even tho hes one himself

"omg u listen to nirvana?? whats ur fav song??"

he would get offended if u chose one of the most popular ones

will be like "oh!..😐"

u two share clothes

"dude this tee is so fire"

"u can have it ONLY for one day"

ends up never giving it back

so u never give his clothes back too

i imagine losers and i see converse

you two DEFINITELY get matching lyrics on ur shoes

he feels so lucky to have another loser around

he always puts some music on when u come over and u never complain bc u have the same music taste

"that song HITS, whats it called"

✩ — KYLE !

he kinda doesnt care ig

like, you do you

one time u were like

"LETS MAKE YOU GRUNGE TOO"

"no."

you had to nag him about it until he finally agreed

had to lend some clothes from stan..

stan had to be there too

WHY DOES KYLE ACTUALLY END UP LOOKING FIRE AF??? DO U SEE THE VISION LIKE I SEE IT??

"can we get this off now pls"

"WAIT I NEED TO MAKE A PHOTO"

all of you end up taking a super duper photo

u post it on ur insta story

kyle is like "DELETE DELETR DELETE"

"omg if my mom sees this😕..."

thinks he looks homeless

✩ — KENNY !

thinks ur hot af.

idk whats that style called but i kinda imagine kenny in baggy jeans and like those wife beaters??

sometimes just tees if hes feelin lazy

yall the best combo world has ever seen

he literally worships u tbh

helps u pick ur outfit for the day

and u pick his too🤗🤗

genuinely thinks ur room is so cool

loves spending time with u in ur loser room

i wanna draw all of them now bye

requests r open !!

[deathclassic]

weekly tag wednesday thursday

thank you for tagging me kat @mybrainismelted evie @energievie comet @spacerockwriting julissa @heymrspatel chani @darlingian sky @transmurderbug georgia @iansw0rld and @guinguin1984, it is greatly appreciated

Firsts! Name: molly Age: 25, im an infant lol

First Pet? My mum had a black cat she got when she was 18 called allegro and she was around when i was born so her

First Word? probably some form of mama

First Celebrity Crush? gerard way maybe? idk i was like 8

First IRL Crush? this kid named ben, he was the only boy that didn't bully me so it must've meant something at the time. we're still friends but i dont have a crush on him lol and he dated all my friends too,,,,like not even joking all of them

First kiss? this random girl at a fall out boy afterparty, we gave each other forehead bruises bc we headbanged at the same time to a parkway drive song

First Car? this bitch still can't drive so no car over here

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? this bitch also still lives at home with their parents lmao im failing so hard at adult life

First time on a plane? i was 12, we went to the gold coast

First cellphone? this weird flip phone i got when i was 12 and started taking public transport by myself

First concert? technically it was radiohead in 1998, my mum was not gonna miss seeing them just bc she was pregnant with me and apparently i kicked a lot during the gig

First Foreign country you visited? never left the country, my first time will be this october and im going to the usa

First sport you ever played? netball and karate, started those around the same time

First career aspiration? zoo keeper

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow" when i was 22 i designed a movie poster and i thought it was pretty good, that was probably the first time and maybe the only tbh

im not tagging anyone bc i can see everyone has already done it

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

its funny cause i give my parents updates on this tournament, and the only frame of reference they have is the bands/people i'm into generally. (my mum says "well, you should be glad i don't know who you're talking about because that would mean i'm trying to be hip and cool" lmao). anyways

i think its soooo funny because like. my parents obviously know who oasis is. i have a poster i got from knebworth 22 in my room (place of pride for real), and i've played them in my care a LOT. my mum has a very vague idea of who HIM is because i've got a shirt for them (heart pentagram is such a sick design and i will die on this hill). i showed the two of them to my mum and she was like "obviously liam. the other one looks too much like a girl." and on one hand it was like "you don't understand." but on the other hand, validation. cause like. yeah. liam's gorgeous obviously. but then like. i showed her other picture of ville valo cause i totally voted for him (i'm so sorry liam but how could i not) and she GOT IT.

anyways, dad's upset mariah carey won because "she sings that hideous christmas song and anyone is better than her" and also, he's of the opinion that i should have immediately wanted to vote keanu reeves instead of holding out until i knew who he was up against (still not over liam vs. ville valo the ultimate betrayal and sadness lol)

dad's opinion is also that axl rose should win the next round solely based on the fact that he knows who he is, but really, what does he know, cause he made fun of me rooting for jarvis with my entire being.

idk where i'm going with this sorry. i love this tournament, and hilariously i'm more invested in this than the original bracket, but that's cause my most beloved albums got eliminated soooooo quickly (seeing the same in the 2000s bracket and i tell myself that my taste is just more niche rather than bad)

-from the very tipsy anon that sent something in quite awhile ago. very sorry that you only get these very long winded anons when i've had a few

n.e.ways. this blogs great and i got a kick out of you saying you'd integrate the trent reznor fuck or be like teenage girl thing into your belief system.

also, i agree with the anon that said than radiohead man aged real nice where as damon didn't. given, i last saw him with a mullet, and thought he aged like spoilt milk, but radiohead man (remembered his name Thom! aged real nice)

also, as much as creep is like the stereotypical radiohead song and kinda considered overplayed, it UNDERSTANDS ME and also me as a teen. props to him. idk if i can bring myself to vote for him though (not cause he's kinda weird looking - odd looking people are HOT ok) but cause i had a devestating crush on a guy who was obessed with radiohead and he literally told me that i give off "emotionally unavailable vibes and its cool to make friends with someone so similar to me" and it ruined me emotionally for a good like 5 months)

also, props to oasis for having supersonic as one of their top songs, cause hell yeah Give Me Gin and Tonic! literally my drink of choice lmaooooo

once again, very sorry for very long anon, had another g+t while writing this (that makes 6!)

have a very good evening! i adore this blog! and i think youre hella cool and i could never imagine trying to rum a tournament and answer all the asks that you do (there's reason i'm anon unless i have the amazing urge to send pics in aid of my very special blorbo)

<3

omg no this is lovely actually

Apparently my blog has already met the parents?? I'm so proud ahaha and your parents have some of the funniest takes. I love reading these long asks, it's like a sneak peek into the minds of my viewers and honestly means the world to me. Enjoy your gin and tonic, anon, and a wonderful evening to you as well <3

[smndragon]

henlo!! i hope you're doing well! i'd love to get a reading from you, if that's okay! my placements are: sag sun (12h), aries moon (3h) and cap rising! thank you so much for this!

I swear I looked at my inbox and took a second for start the tv and get a drink of water. This is gonna be a long night, I don't think there are meant full readings left though. I'm doing very well thanks for that!

Hm, Sagittarius sun, Aries moon, and Capricorn ascendant.

The Aries moon is the loudest competing with the Capricorn ascendant. Possible glasses I feel from the Aries moon or bad eyesight. The Capricorn could cause you to cut your hair short since I feel some of them really like doing that either their chaotic energy at times✂️💇🏽‍♀️ (I always try to be careful when clicking edit ln these drafts cause it sucks to accidentally delete it ughh) SONG RECOMMENDATION LOVELIES creep by Radiohead! I'm back after getting an ice pop AND OMG IVE BEEN ANSWERING THINGS MY SHEETS ARE WARM AND I HAVEN'T OPENED IT HOW DID I FORGET. Anyways, I wondered if your profile was really you so I looked closer and now I regret I cause the characteristics will be thrown off later on sorry.

Gotta make a new paragraph that was long💀 the Aries moon is hard to see, the connection has been ruined. FOCUS I'm back okay let's go! The Aries Manor is large. I arrived immediately at gates. The place feels like a castle, all of a sudden I'm in a dress on the ground as if this is some kind of lost girl story. My expression looks really confused. As if they're asking "where tf am I" a tall figure comes down the stairs, dressed in a red dress as if her wedding with the world's biggest asshole had was cancelled. Red lips and styled back red hair, their eyes are sharp at the ends and wide in the middle (can't explain eyes lol) they offer their hand to me as if I look like the dumbest bitch at the ball lol. Long and manicured nails. Shes thin and lanky but beautiful non the less. (For all of you insecure people reading to this far I'm watching you😤 love yourself more please you deserve it) she has a butler on standby. "So what are you doing here?" A pretty basic question but I honestly feel so dumb rn lol. They act as if the quest never happened and look around for something in the room turning their head. "You're not Gemini/Sagittarius are you?" A skeptical look on their face. It's hard to interpret what they said. "Alright, maybe you're not here to pull a prank on me if you are." They grab a cigarette from a tin holder a worker offers them already lit and breathing rolls of smoke. "If not them, what are you doing here shorty?" Taking another hit, the cigarette finished by then. Time is going by faster than I thought. "Alright" I hear the click of the case in their hand closing. "If you aren't here for me then I know who, follow me." They get up to lead me up the stares. Hesitantly following after. Aura is red and flaming. Possible placements are the lover stomach or I feel the manor and small parts around it take yo the whole chest. You may have problems with heartburn, chest pains, or issues with the lungs. We leave the lavished hall. I feel there's somewhere you wanna go someday. Possible problems in class as a kid, too passionate or anger issues. Nowadays may be shy or hesitant. Aries people often are fiery, but we also turn more shy getting older.

I see a door down the hall opening it, the Aries moon is gone by now. I feel you have Gemini placements possibly tricksters with your Sagittarius sun. I see the Sagittarius sitting down on something soft and plush. Reading some kind of novel or paper. They seem very intimidating until seeing me. "Ah! Are you here to talk to me? I've been needing company!" Getting up to walk towards me. "Did Aries not come with you? They always avoid me." I see their earrings shine with the night sky. "I mean I did pull that paint trick a bit ago but to mean c'mon who wouldn't?" She once had an elegant purple dress, to match her heavy eyelashes and almost violet blue eyes. But I look into myself now. They are jokes on how we look the same now and they bet she asked me if I was them. They turn to me again after looking off for a bit. You the host may have issues with the contact under pressure or when holding conversations. They do the same thing the Aries does. They may go deeper than shown to me, lifetimes of being stuck with each other in the same hosts. May have liked each other in the beginning but something changed this. Possible placement now is the left side of the chest. Aura color is purple and starry blue. I'm no longer in contact.

I feel the Capricorn ascendant is the puzzle piece to what happened. Change that thought it's Gemini. It's not just you body but in others they've known each other I'm the placements. Possibly a love triangle turned into hate or something. The Aries moon once loved your Sagittarius, they still do. It's just things have changed and Gemini and Sagittarius are better together to Aries. This doesn't seem right. Idk how you could fix this maybe we'll see later. This imbalance could be the cause of some mental issues or your own love problems, both signs aren't as good with such things. They don't know how cause they haven't found true love yet. At least not reciprocated well enough.

The Capricorn ascendant lives in the middle of your chest in-between the abdomen and stomach proportions. This doesn't make sense to me since I believe the stairs were here. I get there, the Capricorn is sitting on the steps sketching. The Capricorn is more boyish. Dressed in a shorter green dress. Cut to the shoulders blonde hair with brown and green mixed eyes. A golden chain on the neck matching the sprinkle of gold on the cheeks and in the eyes. They look at me weirdly. As if they're appalled I ended up here. "Gonna sit or not?" They point to next to them on the steps. I sit down looking at the sketch set down for a second resting in their palms. "You can feel it too can't you?" Clearly they're talking of the energy between the other two zodiacs. "They've been like this for a long time-" "I know." I finally talk I believe after this whole reading. They look down at their drawing. "I'm pretty new here so yeah. I got it fast" they catch me looking at the pencil stokes. "You saw it before. Think it was good?" They look at me again head still down low. "yeah" I nod. "Great!" They pull me up. "Let's get away from here yeah?" There's fields outside the mansion. Green even in the night. Rolling down the grounds and getting grass covered stains and markings. This Capricorn is alive.

Characteristics: dark hair, wider eyes due to the Capricorn or Aries moon, I feel this creates bigger eyes at times. Possibly markings on the hands or arms. Height is fairly average or just an inch shy of it. Possibly have posters in your room. You may definitely need that cup of morning coffee. Strongly built with thicker bones. Took some scrapes and scratches as a kid lol.👷gap in the middle of the teeth. Your nose may scrunch and get bunny lines. Possible love for Halloween. Nice nails but they get broken easily do you have to cut them short. Struggled with self image issue younger. Causing some mental health problems. You aren't an angry person but if boundaries are crossed there's gonna be a problem.

Soulmates/ future relationship: (ignore if already in one unless curious) I feel Virgo influence here. Not the tallest person but also yes? One of those two either really tall ppl or not at all. You guys will try and keep up with each other a lot. Trying to manage schedules and make little completions on who cna do something better or first. On the couch watching movies and sharing food, okay cringey couple thing coming up. You guys may feed each other like it's normal and your friend just stare at you like "wtf??" They love our two though lol they'll get used to it. Possible meeting at s grocery store when in the bread isle or nearby. May have you call them lieutenant or some strengthening name at times or they won't even move to do what you want them to.

Other zodiac influence in your life through people: Gemini moon, Virgo moon, sun, ascendant. Possible same mercury and venus? Random. Cancer mars, Neptune.

Health/future: watch for dogs (i love dogs but I see some trouble here) cars when walking on roads or streets. Just saying duck and lay attention for the next 2 months when in a dangerous working areas or smth.

FINALLY DONE SORRY THIS TOOK LONG

[sweetbunnykook]

Invisible Things (M)

Adopted!JK x Detective!Noona - Oneshot/Drabble 

Warning: taboo and toxic relationship, slight smut, angst (light manipulation)

Word: 1,762 

Inspired by Nude by Radiohead 

Synopsis: Jungkook struggles to control himself around you and he hates himself for it. 

“Don’t get a-ny big ideas, they’re not going to happen…”

Jungkook sings softly, careful not to wake you even though you’re separated by a thin but solid wall. He wraps his oversized black and mustard yellow flannel around himself and curls into his pillows. He presses his headphones further onto his ears by the weight of his head. His deep cacao bangs tickle his lashes and with a small shake of his head, he sweeps the strands to one side.

“You’ll go to hell…for what your dirty mind is thinking…”

Can you hear him call out for you? Can you hear his heart weeping? He half hopes you can, and half hopes that you’re clueless to the turmoil resting inside his belly, warm and probing.

Digging his long fingers underneath his pillow, he tugs the end of a pale pink fabric until he can hold it against his chest. He had never wanted to stoop so low, but somehow he knew it was bound to happen, that it was about time he crossed the line. He holds your brassiere up into the golden light luminating from his Iron Man lamp. The superhero’s yellowed eyes stab into the gentle lace as if it could not stand seeing Jungkook hold it so tenderly between his fingers.

Jungkook unhooked the undergarment and brushed his nails over the tarnished metal hooks sewed in the back. Holding it up by the cups, his other fingers trace over the details of the lace sewed onto the otherwise plain surface. He felt white heat, stirring deep in his abdomen, that keeps him gently writhing in bed. His sweatpants tighten uncomfortably around his pelvis, prompting him to reach down and adjust himself as a blush cascades over his acne scar-kissed cheeks.

He reaches over to the Walkman resting next to his pillow, his most precious gift as you had been using the small device since your teenage years, and turns up the volume a tad bit. He wants to drown in the gentle lull of the bass and drums. He wants to drown in the music, away from his screaming thoughts.

How could you do this to her? Do you know how disgusted she would be if she found out? What is wrong with you, you ungrateful little shithead?

Jungkook squeezes his eyes close and brings his blanket over his shoulders. That’s not you speaking, he tells himself; that’s his other mother, the version of you in his head that he’s terrified of disappointing. It’s something he learned to bury inside him, but sometimes she haunts him, follows his angry footsteps.

But he knows, he absolutely knows, you would never be disappointed in him in reality. Upset, maybe. But disappoint? You’re too kind, too naïve, too caring for that. You would simply walk into his room, tell him not to do it again, take the lace away from his hands, and leave. You wouldn’t bring it up again, not over the dining table or over your morning routine of fetching his sports bag from the storage closet.

And that’s why the guilt, despite the stirring in his groin, feels like his chest is about to cave in.

But it’s so, so, so beautiful. The Chantilly lace, looking almost crème in daylight but peony pink under his bedroom lights – he wishes he can see it on you, trace the edges with his lips, breathe in the scent of your perfume-kissed skin. Jungkook groans, audibly, yanking his headphones out and rolling over to the cooler side of the bed. He brings one leg over his black bolster pillow and presses himself against it, seeking friction for the heat in his abdomen multiplies as the lace presses against his cheek. He closes his eyes and replaces the smell of fabric softener with your perfume instead.

Yes, he can just taste how sweet you are. God you’re so soft and supple, your skin warm under his fingertips. He can hear your breath hitch just before your eyes roll back and – fuck – you’re clawing at his shoulders, chanting his name like a prayer. You’re tight, gripping, pulling his heavy length inside you until you can feel his tip nestle in the opening of your cervix. Your lower lip is caught between your front teeth, your eyebrows scrunch in concentration, sweat drips down your jaw onto your clavicle. His pace quickens when you take a hand and squeeze your breasts together, prompting his hips to snap against you like a rubber band.

Nngh, Jungkook, please…please baby, my Kookie, my-

“Jungkook?”

Two innocent knocks and a muffled voice brings the young boy back into reality as he quickly stuffs the sinful fabric underneath his pillow and sits up on the bed, chest heaving, eyes dilated, and still insanely hard. Jungkook quickly brings a blanket up to his hips as the poster-covered bedroom door opens and you peer in; he can see your reading glasses is resting on the lower bridge of your nose, your hair pinned up with a clip, your nightgown loose around your shoulders. You must’ve been in the middle of your nightly reading routine.

“Y-Yeah, mom?” He breathes, inwardly cursing as his voice betrays the panic settling in his stomach.

“I cut up some fruit, do you want some?”

His eyes catch your free hand holding out a small dish of sliced honeydew melon and strawberries. Shit, he’s starving. It only dawns on him, at such an inconvenient time, that he hasn’t had dinner. But he obviously can’t accept your offer or else you’ll walk in to set the dish on his table and you’ll really see the ends of his bangs soaked with sweat and his cheeks pink with shame.

With a heavy heart, Jungkook shakes his head. “I’m okay. T-Thanks, mom. Can you close the door on your way out?”

His voice is desperate, labored.

You flash him a smile and pull the door close, prompting a relieved sigh from Jungkook as he slouches forward. And then the door opens again, your eyebrows scrunched slightly this time. He perks up immediately, clutching the blanket closer to his hips.

“…Are you okay?”

His fists tighten. “Yeah, why?”

There’s a pregnant pause, an undeniable tightness in the air that makes his back prickle with sweat.

Something was off, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Jungkook looks like he has something to hide, but then again, when did he not look like that?

You let yourself in the room, placing the plate of fruit on top of his PlayStation console. His spine straightens – he’s anxious, squirming further into his bed. He’s rather relieved that he’s softening slowly the closer you get. The fear of being shamed (not that you would do something like that if you found out) was too much for his mind to wrap around; he needs to play the role of the innocent and clueless son until you realize that all those men you’re going on dates with aren’t worth your time.

His mask was so close to falling a into place. He could simply say he’s been feeling a little under the weather and that’s why he lost his appetite today. It would explain why his hair is damp from sweat too. The plan was fool-proof, the words resting on the tip of his tongue, heavy with lies.

At least, it was, until your gentle and hesitant fingertips brush over his jaw and behind his ears, eliciting the softest whine you’ve ever heard. Jungkook wanted to rip his heart from underneath his ribs and reveal that you’ve been inside the whole time. He wanted, so badly, to tell you everything that’s been on his mind since he submitted his college applications.

I want to stay with you, mother. I want nothing more than to be your pillar, like you’ve been to me since you found me. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. I want to be with you. Together. Forever.

“Kookie…you know you can tell me anything…right?” You inquire, watching his guilty eyes fall on his lap as his head hangs low. The worry that maybe he mistrusts you, that perhaps a bond with someone you adopted, rescued out of pity, is not as solid as you hoped; it hurt you.

And Jungkook doesn’t want to hurt you, ever. It kills him that he’s made you worry. As soon as he hears your voice sounding so small, not like how you usually are as a prestigious detective of a famous precinct, he knows you’re not going to accept anything but the truth from his doll lips.

So he gives you the truth. Partially.

“It’s just…anxiety, mom.”

You wipe your palm across his damp forehead, underneath his bangs, across his acne scars. Oh how many times you’ve told him not to pick at his skin but he doesn’t listen.

“Do you want me to run you a cool bath?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to rest his head against your bosom. He breathes in your perfume, subtle but pleasant on your skin. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, one hand moving up the nape of his neck to comb his silken tresses. He murmurs something unintelligible, softly, and wrap his arms around your waist.

“Do you ever want something you can’t have?”

You let his hair flow between your fingers. Poor baby, you think, college stress is already getting to him. “Of course. It’s part of being human…but you learn to accept it.”

“What if…what if I can’t accept it? What if I want more and I just keep craving more…and more and more…what happens then?”

You don’t answer him, because even when you have been an adult much longer than he has, there are some questions you can’t answer with complete gentleness. As a mother, it was your duty to bring his hand closer to the fire, let him be a person who is not just your son. But you can’t let him go. You want to hold onto him, just a little bit longer. Just a little bit.

“You’ll know when you get there, darling.”

Jungkook nods, brushing his cheeks up and down your pounding chest.

“But…I have a chance of getting it…don’t I? A true chance?”

You wince slightly when his nails dig into your sides, but you pretend not to notice. You pretend he’s perfect just the way he is.

“Of course, Kookie. Of course you do. Whether you get this…this thing you want, or not, I’ll always be proud of you. I’ll always love you. I hope you remember that.”

[mikeywm3]

This is a music story. Give it time, it’ll get there.

WRITING TO REACH YOU:

It’s October 3, 2001 and I’m riding the PATH train to NYC for only the second time in the last 3 weeks. The train has just stopped between the stations of Christopher Street and 9th Street. As we patiently await the train to start moving again, a sudden jerk happens. And then it happens again. A look around the train finds very nervous faces, wondering what’s going to happen next. What happens next is the train eventually starts rolling again and gets to 9th Street without incident. I’ll be getting off a stop later, 14th Street. Still, I’m nervous to be on this train.

The first time I was on the PATH again was a little over a week earlier, September 22 to be exact, riding with my cousin Brian and his wife Dana into NYC. They had joined me prior to that at Mulligans Pub in Hoboken, where I was living at the time (Hoboken, not the pub), to watch a rugby match between Ireland and Scotland. The match started with the playing of each country’s national anthems and then, unbeknownst to me at the time, the American national anthem followed by a moment of silence. I’ve never heard such beautiful silence in a pub before. Ireland lost the match that day, but it didn’t matter. We were out of our apartments, and the Scots always make for a fun match and rivalry. We kinda love each other, as Braveheart had shown. My love for the Scots will come up again. 

WHY DOES IT ALWAYS RAIN ON ME?

We decided to go into the city afterwards and walk around a bit and get a bite to eat, settling at a Mexican place just off of Washington Square Park. Margaritas, chips and salsa and some quesadillas are quaffed, and soon we are hugging each other and going our opposite directions, thankful to have seen each other and to be able to hug some family. The hug will come just a little bit too soon.

As I’m walking back to the PATH station at 9th Street, I cross through Washington Square Park, a walk I’d been hoping to avoid, but decide it needs to be done. The area around the arch is now like many other areas in downtown NYC, a shrine to the missing. Walls of posters and leaflets of people whose loved ones found the best picture of them that they could find and affixed them to the arch with words like “MISSING” or “HAVE YOU SEEN…” or “LAST SEEN AT…” After about 10 minutes of looking through them all, I decide to begin my journey back to the PATH station, but then one last look captures the face I’d hope to not see: my roommate’s sister, her big smile and bright eyes staring right at me. I’d seen this picture of her before, but only on the leaflets in the apartment I’d been sharing with 3 others.

Our apartment had been ground zero for the family of my roommate, as they were doing the full rounds of hospital visits hoping to find their daughter, their sister, their niece, their cousin. Many of them lived in Pennsylvania and made treks back and forth many times over the ensuing days. I tried to do the best I could to make them comfortable by making sure our apartment was stocked with things they might need: towels, soft drinks, water, clean bed sheets and blankets, etc… Soon after, I didn’t need to do it anymore. They stopped showing up. Their search was over.

My walk back to the PATH station should’ve been no more than 5 minutes, but it will take 20, because this is the first time in 12 days that I’ve been able to have a private moment. I stopped on 9th Street on the steps of a brownstone and sat myself down and lost it. I cried for about 10 minutes. A kind soul walking by with some friends actually came up to me, didn’t say anything, and just put his hand on my shoulder. I touched his hand, looked up at him, took a deep breath and said “Thank you.” Eventually I would make my way back to the PATH and get the train back to Hoboken. Only two stops away, but like my second ride, filled with sudden stops and jerks between stations, terrifying me. This was a time of terror afterall. I worked at Exchange Place in Jersey City at the time and we unfortunately had a direct view of the WTC. I saw most of it, heard all of it. A lot of terror. My ride ends in Hoboken, and I randomly run into my friends Ann & Steve (in town from Massachusetts), Doug and Maria outside of the station. They’re about to go to the city and pay respects at the shrines and vigils set up in Union Square park. And for the second time in 25 minutes, I melt down and throw myself into their arms.

LAST TRAIN

I’m getting off at 14th Street in order to meet up with my friend Jo, where she is having dinner with some mutual friends. She and I will be attending the Travis concert at Radio City Music Hall that night. This will be the first concert/gig that I’ve been to in the last three weeks. If you knew me then, I was probably going to about 10 shows during that same time frame. We meet at a place called Chat and Chew, and this is the first time I’ve seen Jo or our friends in the last three weeks. Pleasantries are exchanged as are the questions of “How are you holding up?” to each other. It might have been the first time that I said I was alright but that, of course, was a lie. I wanted a return to normalcy that wasn’t going to happen, but dammit, this concert tonight is going to be a step towards that, right?

We get to our seats at Radio City, where the opening act is a band called Remy Zero. In all honesty, I don’t remember anything about their set that night, including if we were even there to see any of it. Remy Zero was a band that, during that time frame, seemed to be the opening act for almost every Britpop band that was on tour at that time. Supergrass? Remy Zero opened. Morrissey? Yup, them again. No disprespect to them, they just didn’t make too much of an indent in my musical psyche.

ALL I WANNA DO IS ROCK

Soon the lights are dimming and Travis is about to take the stage to what seemed like polite golf claps. It wasn’t that the audience were unappreciative of them. We just didn’t know how to react anymore. Am I allowed to dance? To sing? To show joy? Are we allowed to have fun anymore? What do I do? This was a dilemma that even New York institutions such as Saturday Night Live and David Letterman were struggling to deal with. All I wanna do is rock! Can I? The answer: Yes, you can, but it’ll take some time. Let it ease in.The first smile occurred as the band took the stage and walked to the front of it and did something I’ve never seen at the beginning of a show before: They gave US a standing ovation. The four of them, for a good 30 seconds, just happy to see our faces, knowing that for some of us this was our first attempt at something lighthearted in the last 21 days, applauding the audience.

“We’re so happy to see your faces. We know a lot of events were cancelled around here, but there was no way we were going to cancel this show. We’re here to try to put some smiles back on your faces tonight and are so glad to be here.”These words are paraphrased, but essentially was the message from Fran Healy, Travis’s lead singer, and for the moment, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he COULD put a smile back on my face. And then the show started with ‘Sing’ the first single from their latest album “The Invisible Band,” and Fran and Travis had already done it. I smiled. Also, I sang.

SING

And sing more I did. For the uninitiated, Travis started as a very Britpoppy, guitar based band, before giving way to their emo side and melancholy to write some rather lush and fuller songs. They’ve often been referred to as Radiohead-lite, particularly given their association with producer Nigel Goodrich. An unfortunate tag, I think. They were Coldplay before there was a Coldplay, and I mean that as a positive, irregardless of your feelings about Coldplay.

The set continued with selections from their three album catalog, many tugging at my heartstrings, but even allowing me to sorta dance a bit. Example: their biggest hit, “Why Does It Always Rain On Me,” obviously has a title straight out of the Morrissey songbook, but also a song construct from the Smiths canon: lyrics that hit the emotional buttons of sadness, self doubt and worth (“Even when the sun is shining, I can’t avoid the lightning”), yet a rhythm and melody that allows for happiness, including a chorus that, every time I’ve seen Travis, has led to me, the rest of the audience and Fran to pogo dance. Yes, the show started with me singing and the main set ended with me dancing.

HAPPY

The encore started with a song that was the general feeling that I was hoping to attain from seeing this show, “All I Wanna Do Is Rock,” a foot-stomping, fist-pumping rocker from their first album. And those two things I did. A faithful cover of ‘All The Young Dudes’ followed before Fran and the boys decided to bring tears back to our face, but this time they were good tears. Fran stated that they’d spent part of the day at Ground Zero volunteering, and that every single penny from the show was being donated to one of the WTC funds. I love these Scots. Oh, did I happen to mention that Travis are from Scotland? I told you it would come up again.

And then as if they knew that the setlist that they’d put together was a musical therapy session for 5,500 people who needed it, they closed the show with a rocking song from their first album with the perfect title of “Happy.” And it was probably therapeutic for Travis as well, as the chorus over and over sings “I’m so happy, that you’re so happy.” And for the first time in a while, I was closer to that feeling. A few weeks later, U2 would play 5 fantastic shows (I was at three of them) at Madison Square Garden and receive rightful praise for bringing the right balance of levity and music to a sad city. You may have heard that a lot of cops and firemen are Irish.  Yeah, a lot of them needed those shows. And they got it.

But for me, it all started with this Travis show. The show ended and Jo and I walked out into the night, knowing we had just had a great therapy session. A kiss and a hug goodnight, and a train ride back to Hoboken for me followed. This time I would get on the PATH train at 33rd Street, the end of the PATH line. The station was emptier than I was used to, as this was still early in the return to normalcy process.

The train left the station and I couldn’t help but feeling a little happier than I’d been. But I was also feeling a tremendous sense of guilt, knowing I was returning to an apartment where my roommate’s return to normalcy would never actually be achieved. Nor would it be for me, but nowhere near what he was going through. My guilt was then jolted by the train suddenly stopping between 23rd street and 14th street. And then a sudden jerk. And then a brief return to a feeling of terror. But then a reminder of this being the PATH train. This happens all the time. It’s normal. A new normalcy.

For BS and CS

[osmiumamygdala]

Dandelion

Colossus X @boneeating--baastard 's oc, SFW, fluff, Petey being a mother hen, as always.

I used some Russian in this (please do correct me if you see anything wrong so I can fix it!) So some translations:

Lapochka= darling/dear

Milyy= sweet/cute

volzlyublennyy= beloved 

A-one, a-two, a-one two three four!

The heel of Balea's sneakers squeak upon hitting the floor, but their tempo remains impeccable as always. Their fingers dance across the strings of their axe, the pluck-pluck-pluck shooting through the guitar's body and causing their chest to hum.

They aren't performing with their band right now-- no, this is all them, all alone, practicing in the empty art studio of the X-Mansion. Even so, they can imagine-- no, hear, hear as though it were right there-- the rest of the band, playing in synchrony, filling this small room with loud, delicious sound rather than the semi-awkward twang of them, solitary, with their guitar.

Yes, instead of this dark, cramped room, lined wall to wall with easels, paintings, sculptures, and paper mache, there is the steady beat of the drums, the thrill of the bass, the scream of a second guitar. Old, amateurly-made masks that line the wall opposite to them are screaming fans, faces drawn open in cheer. A poster to their left featuring a chameleon grasping a branch bids them "hang in there!" And so, they do.

They've been "hanging in there" all day. All week. All their life, really. Between University, general anxiety, and the normal daily grind-- which is to say, the abnormal shit-storm their life has become since squeezing themself into a superhero uniform-- they really can't seem to catch a break.

Music is a whole different ballpark. Can it be hard work? Yes. But the satisfaction they know they'll feel the second they play the rep right just once, godammit, will be worth it all. They've been working so hard already. The minutes have blurred together into one gross, energy drink infused nightmare. Their fingertips are numb, and they're pretty certain their throat has been torn up so wretchedly that lemon juice won't help it now.

One more rep. Just one more rep.

.

.

.

Piotr finds them at a quarter to midnight. He hears them before he sees them; their voice casting down the empty hallway and echoing back. He stops and listens before trying anything. One part of him feels bad for doing it. After all, he wouldn't want anyone sneaking up on him and stealing peeks at his unfinished artwork without his say. But he can't help himself; hearing his dearest's music in the air is a cause for pause, and so he stops in front of the door, hand hovering above the doorknob, and sighs happily as their melody ebbs and flows and weaves throughout the air.

They're doing a cover of a song right now. He's never been up-to-date with music (he's a little old school, and he'll be the first to admit it. He spends his time listening to classical piano and Neil Diamond), but he thinks he knows this one. It sounds like...oh, what was it called...Creep? By...Radiohead!

Their voice wavers out on the last "I don't belong here," and they let out a nasty sounding cough. He ducks his head down to peer into the slim, rectangular window on the door. He sees them. Balea. That sweet, steadfast, optimistic soul that managed to capture his heart and all of him with it. Their back is facing towards him, their shoulders are sagged as they lean forward, perched on a stool (poor posture, he thinks. We should have a word about that), they're still wearing that same flannel from way earlier in the day (sweat-soaked. Poor thing must be exhausted) and he sees them take a swig of--

Monster. At midnight? Oh no.

They start plucking at the guitar strings again, this time starting up an Insidious original, but he doesn't allow himself to be distracted.

He swings the door upon gently, right as the opening verse begins.

"Balea," He says.

They startle, kicking some empty energy drink cans that were in front of them and nearly dropping their guitar.

"Are you aware of the time?"

"Jesus, big guy! You about gave me a heart attack!" Balea says, their voice raspy. They nervously push their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

Piotr picks one of the energy drink cans--Rockstar--off the ground, wiggles it, and grins, amused. "You mean, before these do?"

"Hah. Hah." Balea laughs humorlessly.

"Balea, my dandelion. Time?"

Balea blanks. "Err…uh...eight, right?"

"Lapochka," he says, sadly and softly, "is midnight.”

They look at the floor, stunned. "Oh."

"How long have you been playing?"

Balea scrubs at their eyes for a moment. "Ah, uh, four hours I think?"

He tsks and walks farther into the room until he's standing right in front of them. He kneels down, places their guitar lightly on the ground, takes their small hands, and rubs his large thumb over one of their bandaged fingers.

"You need sleep," he says gently.

"I need," Balea says, with a hint of annoyance, "to get better. I keep messing up this one song. Just the one! I HAVE to get it before I sleep tonight! I've almost got it!"

Piotr chuckles and moves his right hand to their left cheek. He smiles as he scans over their face, which is pulled into a scowl at the moment. Regardless of the expression, he finds them to be gorgeous, handsome, stunning-- any combination of words he can find to explain the joy he feels upon seeing them.

Even here, in this dark room, and even sleep-deprived and sweaty and peppered with Spiderman band-aids as they are, he sees a piece of art. No person could ever hope to capture their beauty in ink, he thinks, and neither in clay or stone, nor paint or pixels. They are ethereal to him.

Which is why seeing the bags under their eyes and smelling the caffeine on their breath makes his heart clench.

"Please dandelion, you've been working so hard already. You need some rest."

Balea thinks it over for a minute, biting their lip in thought and gazing up into his eyes. "Why do you call me that?" They ask. "Dandelion?"

"I call you "Dandelion" because-" he pauses to plant a kiss to one of their bandaged fingers "-you are like dandelion!"

They frown. "I'm like a weed?"

Piotr is taken aback. He hadn't been expecting that. "Weed is...is just concept people came up with because they are annoyed when plants grow where they don't want them." He laughs at that internally; he was a farmer, and he's dealt with his fair share of 'weeds'. His point still stands, he thinks, because even those 'weeds' can be breathtaking, in his mind.

"You are like dandelion because you are so bright." He says. "And determined. And brave."

"How are dandelions or me brave or determined?" They ask incredulously.

"You stand apart from everything else," he explains. "Like dandelion. Bright and bold. When you perform I...I feel so proud of you. Seeing you, on stage, surrounded by so many people? I could never! But you, you stand there, head held high, and take it in, like flower taking water from soil!

And dandelions grow wherever they can. Even through concrete! You do, too! Whatever life throws at you, you fight through it, and if someone tries to pick you off, well, you just pop right back up, as hopeful as ever!"

Balea grins at that. They are one tough cookie! Many an enemy has learned about their quick regeneration too late.

"I remember the first time I saw you," he says. Balea fidgets in place. They don't really like to remember that day very much. They hadn’t really been themself that day. Not quite. "Before pulling you from the rubble, I thought 'there is no way anything could have survived this'. And then I found you, and pulled you free, and it was like seeing a flower raise its head on the first day of spring. Bright, brave, determined, bold--" he places a round of kisses on their hands "--beautiful."

Balea finds themself shivering under all the affection. "Shuddup, you're making me blush!"

Piotr grins and places a kiss on their cheek. "Milyy."

They giggle before being overcome by a large yawn.

"Sleepy little flower," Piotr comments. "See? Time for bed."

"Noooo," Balea moans. "Just had a Monster. My skeleton is VIBRATING."

"If I had my way," Piotr says sternly, "I would lock all Monsters in a safe and drop them in a bottomless pit."

Balea opens their mouth in mock horror. "That would KILL ME babe! I would die! How EVIL! And here I was thinking the X-Men were the good guys!"

"It is a necessary evil," Piotr says solemnly.

Balea harrumphs and folds their arms.

Piotr's face is beginning to hurt from smiling so much at his beloved, and that fact only makes him smile more. They look so cute when they pout.

"If you come to bed, volzlyublennyy, I will massage all your pain away. I know you get, ah...achy back after practicing too long."

"Just a massage?" Balea asks, wiggling their eyebrows.

Piotr deadpans. "It's midnight. I am tired, love. And you look half awake as is."

Balea shrugs. "Eh, worth a shot."

They bend over to pick up their guitar, placing it neatly in its case. At the same time, Piotr sets to work gathering up all the cans and tossing them in a bin by the door.

Balea stands up, almost falling over themself due to their tired, cramped legs and sudden light-headedness.

"Babe," they say. "Did you see that cool magic trick? I just, like, hopped dimensions."

"No," he says firmly. "You had too much monster and too little movement in four hours."

"Shhhh, no, babe. I've unlocked a secondary mutation!"

He sighs good-humoredly and watches for a moment as Balea attempts to put on their guitar case. Their joints keep popping as they get used to movement again, and they wobble back and forth on their heels unsteadily. Piotr intervenes quickly and takes the case from their hands, slinging it around his own shoulders.

"Honey, wh--" before Balea can finish their question, they are scooped up in a pair of big, strong arms.

That sends them into a fit of laughter. "Babe, babe!" They squeak breathlessly. "You aren't gonna carry me to the room, are you?"

"That is the plan, yes," Piotr says, hugging them close.

"What if someone sees us?" They ask, suddenly timid at the thought of anyone catching them like that.

"Everyone else went to bed at a reasonable hour, love." Piotr scolds, pinching their cheek.

Balea blows a raspberry at him. "Midnight is reasonable for me! I'm a busybody and a night owl, okay!?"

Piotr chuckles and walks out of the art studio, making sure to lock the door behind him (which, he realizes, is difficult when your arms are full of your giggling, squirming lover).

As he makes his way back to their room, he watches the drowsy face of his dearest. He finds it endearing, how they fight to stay awake just so they can have that promised massage and spend more time with him. He hums a little song to himself. Something rock, the title of which is lost to him. All is good

[hellimagines]

Love and Death -- Patrick Hockstetter

Masterlist

Request: “Hi I didn’t know where to request but could I pretty please with a cherry on top have an imagine of reader looking back at times of her and Patrick before he died and kind of working their way up to how she reacted to his death. I’m bad at explaining it but would you please be able to kind of song prompt it to the acoustic version of Katy Perry’s ‘The One That Got Away’ (listen to it while thinking of Pat it will bring you to tears. I don’t know if I did this right but if I didn’t explain it enough just send me a message. :) - @realclassact  ”

Summary: You and Patrick were June and Johnny. Nothing could separate that, except love and death.

Warnings: angst, major character death

Pairing: Patrick Hockstetter x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,130

A/N: The timeline is different than the movie/book, so RIP that. Also, I left out some of the song, because I figured it wouldn’t work with the rest of the story.

Summer after high school

When we first met

We make out in your Mustang

To Radiohead

Patrick Hockstetter was a concoction of chaos. You had been friends with him, and the rest of the self-proclaimed Bowers Gang since the beginning of sixth grade. It wasn’t as hard as everyone made it seem to run with the Gang. A couple sly smirks, a roll of the eyes, and being able to watch as they pummeled their latest victim. A lack of moral and a lot of patience scored you your spot in the group. And you loved it.

You were closest to Patrick, out of all of the boys. He was the one who dragged you into the group in the first place. So nobody was truly surprised when they found out that the summer after 8th grade, you and Patrick got together. It was early June, and the five of you were outside Mr.Keene’s, arguing over what to steal, and what to buy. You needed tampons, but none of the boys were willing to steal you any. And Patrick needed a pack of smokes, but nobody was willing to steal those, either. So, the two of you came to a deal.

“I’ll get you your fucking cigarettes if you get me my damn tampons,” you said to Patrick, staring him down with a glare. An oh-so-familiar, wicked smirk crossed his face as he dragged his eyes up and down your form.

“Fine… if you kiss me,” he bargained triumphantly, winking at the boys. You had never shown any interest in a boy, or a girl for that matter, so all the boys figured you were a stuck-up prude. Needless to say, Patrick’s eyes almost fell out of his head when you leaned over and gave him a long, rough kiss to the lips.

Whooping and hollering echoed from the Trans Am as Patrick pulled you closer, having you practically straddle his lap. Vic coughed and groaned in the corner, desperately trying to shrink into the seats. You pulled away from Patrick with a grin and bit your lip as you shook your head.

“Better get me my fucking shit, Hockstetter,” you whispered, before crawling out of his lap, and slipping through the front seat to leave the car. Henry, Vic, and Patrick were quick to follow (Belch staying back as the getaway), and the four of you made your way inside.

“We’ll create the diversion, you two grab the shit,” Henry ordered, and all of you nodded.

You and Patrick mingled in one aisle, while Henry and Vic made their way to the back corner of the store. With a simple shove from Henry, Vic was toppling into the shelves and displays, knocking everything to the floor. At the sound of a crash, and the sight of two ragged boys, Mr.Keene was all-but jumping over the counter and rushing over. You took your chance and dashed to the counter, grabbing four packs and hastily shoving them into your pockets. Patrick grabbed your tampons, and a few other things, before grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you out of the store. You two jumped into the Trans Am quickly, and a few seconds later, Vic and Henry came dashing out of the store, grins on their faces as they too jumped in.

Radiohead’s ‘Everybody Knows’ blasted through Belch’s radio as the car sped down Mainstreet, while you and Patrick pulled out your stealings. You tossed the smokes at Patrick, and he tossed you your tampons, as well as a chocolate bar, before giving Henry, Vic, and Belch their desired items. You smiled at the chocolate in your hands, before grabbing Patrick by the back of the neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Hm, guess this is a thing now,” Patrick snickered against your lips, before pulling you closer while the rest of the boys groaned in disapproval.

And on my eighteenth birthday

We got matching tattoos

It was your sixteenth birthday, and as you sat in Patrick’s basement, shirt-sleeves pulled up, you couldn’t have been happier. You and Patrick had been together for three years now, and as a birthday present, Patrick had gotten his hands on a tattoo machine. He had given the boys tattoo’s a while ago, but you could never decide what you truly wanted- so you never got one. Until now. You were getting a lighter on your shoulder, and Patrick was going to give himself a can of hairspray on his thigh, to symbolize your relationship.

“Ready?” Patrick asked, pressing the needle of the gun against your shoulder. With an affirmative nod, Patrick got to work. Two hours later, you and Patrick were supporting matching tattoos, chaotic grins on both of your faces.

Used to steal your parents’ liquor

And climb to the roof

Talk about our future

Like we had a clue

A few months later, you and Patrick found yourselves on top of his roof, a bottle of Grey Goose and Jack Daniels placed between the two of you.

“Whiskey and vodka is not a good mix,” you shuddered, taking another sip of the amber liquid.

“Grey Goose is your favorite though,” Patrick hummed, gulping down said liquor.

You nodded, watching him with a smile. “Yeah, and ‘Daniels is yours.”

“You know me so well,” Patrick purred, moving the bottles so he could tug you to lay down with him.

After a few minutes of silence, your mouth began to move of its own accord. “What do you think college will be like?” Patrick looked over at you, startled at your sudden question.

“Fuck if I know,” Patrick shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“Are you going to go to college?”

“Probably not. But with you, little Ms. Harvard, I may just hitch a ride to Massachusetts with ya,” Patrick snickered, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah? You and the boys sneakin’ into my dorm?”

“Sneaking? Oh no, we’d all live with you.”

“Oh, that’s just bloody fantastic, really. You all better get jobs,” you sighed, shaking your head in mock-disapproval. Patrick grinned down at you and squeezed your body against his.

“Whatever keeps ya around.”

I was June

You were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other

We made a pact

Everybody knew, that where ever you were, Patrick Hockstetter was sure to be right behind you: he’d be at your locker, waiting for you after every class, he and the boys would walk you to every class, and pick you up every morning, and at the end of every day. For six whole years, it was (Y/N) and the boys, and then (Y/N) and Patrick.

You remembered the day you realized you were in love with Patrick Hockstetter. You had been sitting on the hood of the Trans Am, beside Vic, watching Patrick and Henry square off in a beer-drinking competition. It was probably midnight, and there was a heavy bonfire going, thanks to yourself. You had been watching Patrick closely; the way his head tilted back to allow the alcohol to slide down his throat, the way his long, black hair was tossed out behind his shoulders, a few stray strands sticking to his wet face, the way his over-shirt hung loosely around his black tank-top. It was all too perfect, and quickly, your heart stopped.

“Vic,” you suddenly whispered, turning to him in a flash, with wide, fearful eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with Patrick Hockstetter, and this is the most painful thing I’ve ever gone through in my life. It is like I’m in a ring of fire, and I’m never coming out. I’m going down, down to the bottom of this thing. It’s going to kill me, because I would never have the nerve to tell him, nor do I want to tell him, and I know he’d never love me back.”

“(Y/N), you fucking idiot,” Vic whispered back, his own eyes wide. “Of course Patrick cares about you, in his own fucked up way. But love? I don’t think he even knows what that is.”

“That’s my point! I just signed a one-way ticket to hell,” you whined, slamming your face into your hands. Vic reached over and rubbed your shoulders, biting his lip while looking between you and Patrick.

All this money

Can’t buy me a time machine

Can’t replace you

With a million rings

It didn’t take long after your realization, for things to go downhill. You had confessed to Patrick about how you truly felt, and as expected, it went up in flames.

“No, you can’t love me,” Patrick ordered, sticking a finger in your face.

“But I do and I know you don’t love me back, but it’s fine, okay? I don’t want this to come between us!”

“It already has, (Y/N). I can’t be with you, knowing that you love me. That’s not how this works,” Patrick snarled, before he was marching out of your house, and out of your life.

Looking back on that day, you wished you could change it all. Your fingers lazily twirled the ring on your index finger, the one Patrick had given you a year prior. You were sat in class, slouched in your chair, and hands in your lap. It had been a few weeks since the breakup, and it was now mid-September. Kids were still going missing left-and-right, and you had almost forgotten about all of it, being so caught up with the boys.

But then, you saw the posters.

I should’ve told you

What you meant to me

Cause now I pay the price

Your heart shattered, into a million unfixable pieces. Your body stood frozen, staring up in absolute horror at the piece of paper stapled to the lamppost.

Patrick was missing.

Patrick had joined the other dozens of Derry kids that had been taken the past year. Patrick, the love of your life, was gone. You showed up at Vic’s house, in absolute hysterics, not even bothering to say ‘hello’ to Henry and Belch, who were sat on the couch. Your eyes were swollen, cheeks inflamed, and nose running. You couldn’t form words, you didn’t know what to even say. So, you let Vic pull you into his arms, in a desperate attempt to shush and console you. Belch joined in, hugging you from behind, while Henry stood to your side, hesitantly petting your hair.

“We’ll get him back, (Y/N), okay? You know we will,” Vic whispered, kissing the top of your head. You shook your head furiously, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

“No, no. Something is different. Something is wrong,” you cried, hands balled into fists as you tried to quiet your sobs. Something wasn’t right, you just knew it.

In another life

I would be your girl

We’d keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don’t have to say

You were the one

That got away

Your whole body was numb. From the tips of your ears to the bottom of your toes, everything was numb. You weren’t filled with icy rage anymore or boiling sadness. Everything was just gone. Just like Patrick.

“We are gathered here today, to mourn the loss of Mr.Patrick Hockstetter. At the young age of 17…” You zoned out once the pastor started preaching, your eyes hazing over to Patrick’s closed casket. You sat between Henry and Vic, your hands fisting the skirt of your dress until your knuckles turned white.

It didn’t seem like anybody in the church was actually crying. Patrick’s mother and father sat at the end of the pew, holding one another’s hands, solemnly looking at their final son, laid to rest. Patrick’s relatives sat in the pews next to, and behind you, none of them shedding tears. Patrick had never gotten along well with his family, other than his one grandmother, who passed away a few years back. Henry, Vic, and Belch had sat as your support beams the past few weeks, letting you lean, cry, and punch on them when you needed to. So now, as they sat by you, they looked like soldiers returning from war, but ready for another one to begin. If your body didn’t feel so foreign, you probably would’ve been crying.

Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Patrick was gone and had left you behind. Your last moments together was a fight that should’ve never happened. And now, you were never going to see him again. Never touch him again. Never kiss him again. Never love him again. Because Patrick was the one that got away, and he was never coming back.

[lozengelove]

tagged by @lolarennt1998 <3 <3

What’s your favourite piece of clothing you own?

do pajama shorts count...they have these rlly pretty flowers on them

What hobby would you get into if time wasn’t an issue?

playing guitar!!!! i’ll make this happen one day i just need to actually buy a guitar first

What would your perfect room look like?

i’ve been sharing a room for the past 8yrs so i all i want is a room to myself ndksnsfn but i’d like lots of posters....and those basic bitch fairy lights too!!!!!

Whats your go-to band or artist when you can’t decide what to listen to?

we all already know it’s radiohead

What city would you most like to live in?

idk if i would like living in a city....i love visiting cities but i like living in the suburbs i’ll just stay here thank u

What was the last thing you purchased?

a ring!! from pura vida it was super cheap but it’s rlly cute

Dream Job?

i don’t really know yet....maybe a journalist

This or that

1. Solids // Patterns

2. Sneakers // Booties

3. Handbags // Shoes

4. Flower-Print dresses // Classic blue jeans

5. Champagne // Tea

6. Denim Jacket // Leather jacket

7. 60s // 70s

i tag: @the--clouds @kokomohardon @analogparalysis1978 @angelmo0n <3 (u don’t have to if u don’t wanna!!)

[andallweareisskinandbone]

i guess it’s my turn... taylor reptour post:

This is not one of those - I’ve been following Taylor since her first album sagas, this is a slightly more complex story of how I realized how much I realized I needed her and her music in my life.

Fashback to way back [I’m a year older than Taylor, born in 1988] in high school. I was your quintessential emo-kid, rejected all radio, and strictly listened to bands i found online through things like purevolume and myspace. tbs, jimmy eat world, something corporate, the format - they were my world. music was my world. i dealt with a lot of heartache with boys that were too immature and young to know what they wanted, who “love[d] me but [didn’t] know what [they] want[ed].” music got me through it all.

This carried on into college when i leaned more into the alt-rock world like the white stripes, modest mouse and radiohead, but people I met also introduced me to epic pop like lady gaga. My horizons widened, I was open to listening to the radio. And when I left college in 2010, struggled with finding a “real job” in my field, and my heartache stopped because i was in an incredible relationship (with my now fiance :) ), music fell behind. It’s hard to explain. I had no bands to obsess over. I needed music to dive into, albums to memorize, songs to fall in love with over and over again. I remember posting online, asking friends for help, and O felt lost.

Cut to: 2012. I remember driving with my co-worker Will from Barnes and Noble cafe in his car, running coffee to his girlfriend at a tech rehearsal. Will & I were the last of a dying breed, the OG emo kids who could still scream “You’re So Last Summer” and feel it in their souls. He had Taylor Swift’s Red Album in his CD player; I remember laughing a little like - who is this dude into this pop country chick? But okay, let’s hear it.

We started with “22″. Fireworks started going off in my head. We were blasting it, driving fast through the streets. My god. What had I been missing. “Red”, “State of Grace”, “We Are Never Getting Back Together”.

That night stuck with me for a while, but I never dove into Taylor’s music outside of the radio. In 2014 got a job as an Assistant Producer at a video production company. It was my first official salaried office job, and it was awesome but wore on me. Sitting at a desk is exhausting... I remember depression hitting me harder than it had in a while. Depression and anxiety have been a HUGE part of my life since I was 15 (thus the emo phase), but this was soul-crushing. Part of my job was to do social media, so I was on YouTube a lot and one day.. just decided to start watching Taylor’s music videos.

I can’t explain the weight that lifted off of me watching music video after music video. The music was so bright, even when there was pain behind it. Her videos were full of so many smiles of hers that made my heart sing. It was, and still is, the most therapeutic things I do on my bad days. When you find that thing, never ever let go. I watched her interviews, her Red fan session, her covers, everything I could get my hands on.

And then... she released “Shake it Off”. YES. But the kicker was “Blank Space”. I still think this is one of the greatest pop songs EVER WRITTEN. It’s intricate, it’s tongue-in-cheek, it goes places you don’t expect - in summation it’s a fuckin BOP and that’s an understatement. Every time it came on the radio it was on FULL BLAST. I straight up blew my car speakers listening to this song. How can an artist make you feel this way? It had been so long, I felt like I was 16 again. Enough was enough, I bought the album, and in the knick of time because I didn’t know that winter would be one of the hardest of my life.

My then-boyfriend-now-fiance and i were living together for the first time after being together for 5 years, and it was so hard to adjust. It was 24-7 with a person I knew but didn’t know! 1989 was the epitome of excitement and feeling lost and in love all at the same time. “Out of the Woods” was my song to cry to when al I wanted to do was hold on to my relationship. If I could hug that album, I would.

My boyfriend and I eventually left Philly and I went full-force into the freelance video production world. It was scary as hell, but “Welcome To New York” gave me so much courage to go for jobs that might be over my head. Well, some of them were, but the experience was everything. You can be afraid to fail, because sometimes you will.

Waiting for new Taylor music, I bought the Red Album and lost my shit all over again. I knew so many songs on there already, but “All Too Well” was new and cut me to the core. Here’s the crazy thing about Taylor’s music. Her music was always there for me, and should have been there for me, but I didn’t think I could connect. What a fool I was! Her songs of heartache flashed me back to some of my most painful relationships; it was so cathartic. I remember thinking, oh my god, I wish I had heard this song when [idiot] and I broke up for the third time (sadly it wasn’t written yet, haha).

Her music made me want to sing, so loud, so proudly. I’ve always loved singing but have always been too shy to show anyone. Singing along to Taylor makes me feel confident and has led me to picking up the guitar I was gifted at 15 year ago and teach myself how to play her songs. Another huge piece of therapy in my depression and anxiety. 1989 and Red haven’t moved from their spot in my car’s 6-cd player since I put them in.

September 2017: My boyfriend and I are now engaged. We’re more in love than we ever were and we’re both crushing it in our fields. I’m working as a Production Coordinator on a TV show, and the Production Assistant on the show, Ryan, had to do runs for the crew in my car. He leaves, comes back, and says, “I see you’re also a Taylor Swift fan. I was listening to 1989 the whole time!” I FREAKED OUT. I had never met another since Will. We started gabbing so hard about Taylor, and we really connected for the first time since the show had started.

Then, reputation.....

11/12/17 Ryan had to run out to get lunch and some craft services from Target so I sheepishly handed him a $20 and asked, “do you think you could buy me rep-” “OF COURSE!!!” He was giddy, we both were. We both wanted to listen to it immediately. We tore through the amazing posters in the album, pored over the beautiful artwork.

But the best gift of all was 15 songs filled with so much passion and pain and love that encapsulated so much of what I had been feeling in the last year. Call It What You Want makes me want to hug my fiance and never ever let go. The first time I heard New Years Day, the night of the release, I wanted to hug Taylor and never let her go. Tears streamed down my face as I thought, “the old Taylor is right here.”

you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi. i can tell that it’s gonna be a long road. i’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you’re crawling home.

These lyrics are me and my babe. And I think I’m going to muster up the courage to play this song for him everyone we love at our wedding in September.

@taylorswift​, I’ve always been a strange child that fit in but also didn’t. I’ve always been expressive but also painfully anxious and consequently shy if I get in my head too much. Your music helps me let it all out. Your personality, your style; it makes me feel brave to share my own. Thank you for everything. I hope you see this and know you are loved so much.

In 7 days I’ll see you in Philly on Night 2. July 14th. I’ll be sitting with Ryan in Floor 12, Row 35, Seats 5-6. If I could hug you and pour these feelings you’ve touched in my soul, that would be amazing. But the fact that I’m about to experience my first concert of yours, well, it’s everything.

[irarelypostanything]

Leftover

Every week, I volunteered at the soup kitchen.  The best thing about this was telling people I volunteered at the soup kitchen.  It could have been in any conversation, maybe at work or maybe at the bar, when I’d tell everyone in earshot about the constant contributions I made to society.

But this story isn’t about the soup kitchen, and this story isn’t about me (actually it kind of is, but not entirely).  This story is about David, a college student I met there.  David was promising, intelligent, and...for reasons I will soon discuss...the reason I no longer volunteer at the soup kitchen.

Glide Memorial is located on Ellis street, within walking distance of Powell Station and surprisingly close to Ghirardelli Chocolate.  You can actually see the neighborhood get poorer as you walk towards it, starting with the hotel where rich people stay and ending with the sidewalk where homeless people sleep.  Outside it smells of piss and sweat, but inside is fairly decent.

We had all sorts of volunteers, mostly high school students filling in their mandatory hours, but occasionally we’d get a college student like Michelle.  She had one of those last names that made it difficult to look her up on Facebook (not that I ever tried that).

I signed in at the front desk, glad to see that Michelle’s name was already down.  I went through the usual motions.  First was the handwash, which lasted however long it took to mentally sing “happy birthday” (I was probably one of the only people who followed this rule).  Then came the gloves and hair net.  Last, and this was my favorite part, I’d pick a random high school student and tell him to clear the sink for cooking.  Clearly I looked older, so high school volunteers usually listened to me.

“Hey,” I said rudely, tapping the first person I could find on the shoulder, “mind washing these dishes?  I need the sink clear.”

“Sure,” he said brightly. When he turned around to acknowledge me, I could see that he probably wasn’t a high school student at all. “I’m David, by the way.”

“Dan.  Are you from a high school?”

“No, I’m a law student at the University of San Francisco.  Why, are you?”  I actually don’t know why he asked that.  Obviously I wasn’t.

“I work at City Hall.”

“Doing what?”

“Data entry.  Let’s go downstairs.”

“Didn’t you need the dishes cleared?”

“Nah.”  

The upstairs of Glide Memorial is something of a mini-kitchen, but downstairs is where things really happen.  There’s a much larger kitchen, adjacent to which is a serving queue.  Past that are enough tables to serve 200 people, and they have a sign to confirm this.

The two of us started cooking.  Somewhere there was a volunteer coordinator, but I didn’t bother to check.

Michelle was already here.  Talking to her was my second favorite part, but that night she really hit it off with David.  Oh my gosh, you go to USF, too?  Wow, I’m also in the law school.  Hey, we have the same professor!  God, that midterm was so hard.  Occasionally I’d interrupt to ask for a spatula or something, but that was pretty much it.

The interesting thing about staying in a large city is that you can do the same thing for years, but change will still happen around you.  San Francisco was growing a lot.  I don’t know if the change was good, and I’m not someone who likes to discuss my opinions at length.

Every time I returned to the soup kitchen to volunteer, the two of them would be talking.  I would eavesdrop.  David seemed to show no interest in her, romantically, and maybe it was his lack of interest that made them connect so well.

Seeing David every time was a change in routine...at first.  But then it became the new routine, and time went on as it always had.  Days were long.  Weeks were short.  Alongside Glide Memorial and Netflix and all the other random things I did on the Internet, work continued on.  Everyone at the office was always really bored, but our boss understood where we were coming from.  She let us listen to music as we worked and pretty much take breaks whenever we wanted.  In fact, if I remember correctly, the job description originally said “Note:  This job is really, really boring.”

Eventually there was a change, and maybe I should have seen it coming.  

I don’t want to disappoint you by saying that something big happened between David and me.  To be frank, almost nothing happened at all.  It’s the fact that something almost happened that made me decide to avoid David altogether from that day on.

We agreed to go drinking after our shift one night, something that already struck me as different.  I didn’t even know if he was of legal drinking age, but I honestly didn’t care if he wasn’t.

He said he was short on cash, so we just bought some IPA at Walgreens and drunk at the park.  It was that tiny little park, the one across the street from City Hall where we held a rally so many years ago.  In my mind’s eye, I saw myself in high school climbing to the roof of a nearby storage container with my friends.  I remember wondering where all of them were now.

He didn’t say a word the whole time we sat there.  It was the first time we really hung out at all.

“Where’s your car?” he finally asked, when we were done.

“I don’t drive.”

“Why not?  Do you not have a license?”

“I do, I just don’t really like being behind the wheel.”

“My car’s nearby.  I can drive you home.”

It didn’t sound like a bad idea at the time.  David had had two, maybe three beers at the most.  I was the one was actually kind of drunk, and riding in a car sounded a lot better than riding Muni.

It was night, and it was getting kind of late.

When you drive someone, there’s a universal rule that you’re supposed to play upbeat, mainstream music.  Ideally you should have these songs on a playlist, but if you must use the radio then it has to be an upbeat, mainstream channel that preferably can be categorized as “easy listening.”

David did the opposite.  He must have had a CD called “disturbing music,” because that’s all I heard.  First it was “Climbing up the Walls,” the least upbeat Radiohead song I knew.  

We were slowly edging out of downtown and making our way to the freeway.  His speed increased considerably when he merged onto it; he was one of those drivers.  I enjoyed looking out the window because Muni was underground.  You pass all sorts of houses when you put enough distance from downtown, and they’re not nice.  This is the part of San Francisco you’ll never see on a poster, or a Woody Allen movie, or the website background on one of those emerging tech companies.

He played “Goodbye,” by Apparat. Hearing the song for the first time was...an experience.  I never figured out if it was about depression, rape, or both, but the tune was chilling enough for either subject.

He was going about 90.  He still hadn’t spoken for the entire ride, which seemed out of character for him.

“If you were to die right now,” he said, as if that were a normal way to break the ice, “how would you feel about your life?”

“What?”

We seemed to slide the slightest bit toward the lane of oncoming traffic, but I thought I was only imagining it.

“Have you seen ‘Fight Club’?”

“No.”

Okay, so maybe he was just making a reference.  I didn’t want to think about this.  There were some things on my mind, probably small, but I wanted to go home and think about them.

Not a minute later, he pulled the stunt again.  This time, it was clear that he was edging toward the wrong lane.  But just as quickly he brought the car back, swerving, and the combined movement was so fast I didn’t even have time to shout.

“What are you doing?”  I tried to sound angry, but didn’t.  It’s like I was dreaming.

“Do you want to die, Dan?  Every time we talk, you tell me that you want to die.”

Did I?  Maybe I had mentioned things like this before, but I was only joking.

“I joke around a lot.  I don’t want to die.”

“You constantly tell me that life is meaningless.”  Hm...he had a point there.  I definitely said that to him on occasion, and we had been talking for months.

“I didn’t mean that I wanted to die, and I was kidding!”  I really was.  My way of joking was by saying things that were bleak, constantly.  He’s the one who took me too seriously.  

“No no no,” he said, and the car was picking up speed, “you’re right.  You understand.  There’s no reason to live.  Everyone is going to die.  Why not get on with it?”

My head was still throbbing, and the car’s speed didn’t help a bit.   I tried to think of something intelligent to say but my head still hurt.  “No one wants to die.  Really.”  I emphasized that last word, like I was pleading.

“Everyone wants to die,” he said.  “They just haven’t realized it yet.”

“I don’t want to die,” I said.

“Yes you do.  I can tell.”

“What about the person you hit?  What if they don’t want to die?”

“We’ll hit a truck.  They’ll be fine.”

This time I grabbed the wheel, and I held it steady.  He didn’t provide much resistance.  He probably wanted the car crash to involve only a few people.

*

I didn’t really know that much about this guy.  I guess I sort of made up a person, called him David, and then didn’t give it another thought.  

My adult community service club held weekly meetings, and all of our officers spoke very highly of David.  Here he was, this ambitious, bright new member who seemed like he could really bridge the gap between our older members and our younger ones.  We started to talk a little bit about his background, but at that point he was just another person.  He was a person, but he was still just another person.

*

“David,” I said, still guiding the wheels, “what is it you think you’re doing?”

“Oh my God,” he said.  The car began to slow, but not so much that it was dangerous.

“Exit here and let me off as soon as you can,” I said.  I couldn’t believe my luck.  It’s like he was in a trance for a few minutes and was just now snapping out of it.

“Okay,” he said.

He offered to finish taking me home, but I said I would call an Uber.  He seemed to understand.  He reacted the way a driver might react if I just realized his car was unsafe, or he wasn’t actually licensed.  He also looked scared, and even after all this time I can’t make sense of what happened.  Is he like two people?  Was he possessed by one thought in one instance?

“Dan?” he asked me, uncertainly.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t.”  And I didn’t.

*

There’s this really shitty coffee shop about two blocks from City Hall.  The coffee isn’t great and I don’t trust the neighborhood, but the owner is nice and there’s rarely many other people there.  So I can think.

I would use their wi-fi and for a long time, I would just check in on David.  I didn’t follow or friend him on anything, at any point, but I still felt like I knew him from this.  I could trace his steps.  

And he seemed fine.  I can’t think of any other way to put it.

I started volunteering at the SF Marin Food Bank, instead of the soup kitchen.  It’s the same idea, only the coordinators are way nicer and you don’t have many interactions with people.

I received no indication that anything with David was wrong, and three years passed.  He’s still fine.

So I just went back to my life, and he went back to his, and that was that.

[juliancasablancasofficial]

I was tagged in a few of these memes by @radio-freedunmovin​ (thank you btw! i know im ridiculously late ://///) so im doing all of them here.

PART ONE Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and then tag ten blogs you would like to get to know better. Or don’t. It’s up to you.

Nickname: Simpsons fucker (self explanatory if you follow my twit), Australia, Karen, Shai.....I have a lot more Sign: Capricorn Favorite Music Artist: Way too many to list all but obviously my number one is the strokes, then interpol, yyys, lcd soundsystem and the national are in second place. Everything else comes after Last TV Show You Watched: Better Homes and Gardens (no judge) Last Movie You Saw in the Theater: Rogue One What Are You Wearing Right Now: my rattiest homes clothes lmfao, lime green sleeveless top, burgundy trackpants and my sky blue pyjama shirt with clouds on it. What Do You Post: Bands, movies, food, fashion stuff, the occasional tv show and aesthetic pic Do You Have Any Other Blogs: Nope one is enough. Why Did You Choose Your URL: I’d take 2 bullets for Louis Theroux Do You Get Asks Regularly: Sometimes Hogwarts House: I think it was griffindor

Patronus: julians greasy hair Pokémon Team: Instinct Favorite Color: I wear black a lot so i guess thats my fave colour, I’m quite partial to purple and turquiose.

Favorite Characters: Michael (arrested development), Frank (everybody loves raymond), Darlene (Roseanne), Daria (Daria), Gene (Bob’s burgers), everyone in portlandia Hobbies/crafts?: Listening to music, cooking/watching cooking shows, watching tv and movies if you call that a hobby, walking around the city? I love that Collect anything?: CD’s bc i cant afford vinyl, posters, merch, jackets, collecting jewellery? Current challenges you face?: doing another degree where its 2 solid years of theory then 2 solid years of hospital placements and dealing with people, it’ll be worse if i dont get a job after this.....god

Things you’re looking forward to?: Finishing this paper i took a break from to do this ha Anything you want to promote?: No

PART TWO

Last song I listened to: so good at being in trouble by UMO

Last book I read: does my textbook count

Favourite color: answered that

Top 3 shows: The Simpsons, Bob’s Burgers, Catfish

Top 3 fictional characters: answered that

Top 3 ships: I’m not 15.

PART THREE

Rules: Tag 9 people you would like to get to know better.

Relationship status: Single Favorite color(s): answered already Pets: none anymore :( Last song I listened to: So good at being in trouble by UMO Favorite TV Shows: The simpsons, bobs burgers, oitnb, sense8, portlandia First Fandom: HP looooooooooooool Hobbies: answered Favorite band(s): Answered but The Strokes, Interpol, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The National, LCD Soundsystem, Pulp, Blur, St Vincent, Mitski, Foals, Radiohead, Car Seat Headrest, Iceage, Beach House.....I could go on..... Books I am currently reading: I havent read for pleasure since i was 16 its something ive always wanted to fix but i never have the time :/ Favorite book: Catcher in The Rye (dont laugh) The worst thing you’ve ever eaten or tasted: recently (last saturday) i had to eat this disgusting chicken that was cooked with fucking raisins and sultanas with it???? it tasted like perfume chemicals no joke i honestly thought i was eating perfume. Favourite Place: Auckland City, Kuala Lumpur, Dubai, my bed

ok thats all i tag everyone who was looking for an excuse to do this

[willandandy]

Iceage - Beyondless by Will

Hello, my name is Will Stubbs and I love music. I feel that music is the best medium for creativity. People can explore new ideas and emotions with the help of music. I am here to talk about music that interests me and maybe start a great conversation. Thanks for reading and remember to love music forever.

“Music is the shorthand of emotion.” ― Leo Tolstoy

Iceage is a punk band from denmark who I honestly haven’t listened to before. I knew that I wanted to review a completely new band to me step out of my comfort zone. I generally have listened to every band I review extensively so I always have defined and strong opinions. This review is new territory for me, but I am looking forward to the challenge.

What I love about bands like this is that they push genres enough to be interesting but are not too obscure that can be accepted by large. This band isn’t too complicated and grandiose. I think that this album will be welcoming to posterity. The blending of post punk, art punk, and jazz fusion seems so seamless you don’t notice. At first listen I thought I was getting the lackadaisical and catchy garage rock of a band like The Strokes, but I was deceiving myself.  

The first song “Hurrah” came in blaring like a scene from mad max. The sound is full and loud. The speedy guitar, the punchy drums, and the badass nonchalant don’t give a shit attitude was very apparent. The message isn’t new, nor the delivery, but its effective and strong. What a great start to a record. The self destructive and violent content of the lyrics work well with everything else.

What is interesting is that the next song “Pain Killer” is still a punk song, but more of a post punk song. The drums are groovier, and its much subtler. Even with that going on, the song doesn’t really lose any energy and fits well. Sky Ferreira really adds so much to the song. Her voice acts like a vice gripping at your lungs. The horns and tambourine add so many little melodies and details. Its catchy and fun music

          The next track, “Under the sun”, again is different from the last but not diametrically opposed. This is one of my favorite tracks of the year so far. Yet again this song is very self destructive in nature. Its stoic post punk is hypnotizing and intense. The outer body experience of this track intensifies until it bursts into a subtle satisfying meltdown. The bare guitar and the intense drums make me feel like I am apart of the experience. The vocalist is almost singing like drunken spoken word poetry and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The euphoric lyrics are evocative of the response I get from the music. What a fantastic track.

“The day the music dies” is another catchy track. While this song strikes as more of an art rock track, has a nice brass section and subtle keyboard. The singer is anxious and desperate for satisfaction. I think that the lyrics on this track are some of my favorite on this record. Look at the pre-chorus “The future's never starting

The present never ends

I left us both bombarded

But I'm not here to make amends”

The angsty passion and the seemingly disorganized track seems to be amplified by the content.

The next song “Plead the fifth” sounds almost like a Velvet underground song in spirit. The deep bass line, the slapping tambourine, and the reserved drums and guitar make it so smooth. The song reminds me of a hangover. All the other songs are so full of energy and breadth that we need a soft gentle bass line to lull us back into sobriety.  

“Catch it” is another track that I want to talk about. The slow, slugging, and hellish. Its like a tom waits songs in that its dense and unapologetic. The chorus is extremely catchy and plentiful in this song. I love the sharp tambourine throughout to keep the tempo go smoother. The lyrics resemble a drug addiction and the end of the track the band goes berserk like a bad trip or maybe an overdose into unsettling feedback scraping your ears. Its intense and full of energy.

          The next song “Thieves like us” is hilarious, in a sadistic way. Its so gleefully fun. The singer sounds as if he is binging on liquor, and the lyrics talk about kidnapping a stranger to have them listen to your twisted wayward stories.  I think that reading the lyrics separately gives you the worst most deranged perspective, but with the music its nothing but terrifying fun. The way the twangy guitar picking slowly as the the tempo picks up to keep the light-hearted sounds contrast the dark hearted nature is hilarious.

“Take it all” is very much an art rock song. The string section reminds me of a Radiohead song back in the OK Computer era, and the way he sings is much more serious. This song is much more grandiose than the others. The climactic nature makes the pace of the album make much more sense than it already did. I wouldn’t consider this album singular and narrative, but the way the songs flow from one to another could tell you otherwise.

The next track “Showtime” is very cabaret and theatrical as the name would imply. I know I said that the last track was linear, but this track follows suit to an even further degree. I love the way that it starts as a post punk song. It feels like a noir murder mystery, but then the paradigm switches very drastically.  Then it’s a cabaret showpiece that wouldn’t sound too foreign of an MCR song, but much more artistically. The singer is overwhelmingly sarcastic in this. I think he feels that he is a spectacle to be seen, as opposed to a serious artist so he gives them what they want in a sense. Like he feels cheap and tasteless with no identity. I know I keep saying it, but I love this track as well.

The downward spiral has finally hit its course in the last song “Beyondless”. The singing is the most serious in this, and the tone is more somber and dark. Its depressing and dark to say the least. I think that the singer is saying that he is not repairable and that he will always what he appears. The way he sings is like losing a loved one because you had to let them go. The strings are sharper, and the metronome sound is frustrating, but the impact will stay there. This one was a great way to end this rollercoaster of sounds and emotions. While not my favorite track, it fit well and was necessary.

Overall, I was so impressed by this record. The drama and lack thereof were compelling to a vaguely narrative standpoint. The recording was great as usual. The lyrics were angsty, sarcastic, and depressing. The instruments were detail, immense and played well. This album is layered, catchy, fun, and truly and genuinely enjoyable. I am glad that bands like this exist because it is hard to find a rock band that is fun, but also makes great music. Since hip hop has been switching the cultural zeitgeist so we don’t see as many rock bands any more. Bands like the white stripes, the strokes, bloc party, and etcetera putting out consistently good music, or music at all. Im glad that these guys are keeping the spirit alive.

I know I like to give high scores because I generally review albums I really like, but I want to. My scale may not be as defined as other music reviewers, but I think about the albums I listen to and I know the score I feel.

Top Songs:

Pain killer

Under the sun

The day the music dies

Thieves like us

Showtime

Now this album isn’t perfect, but I can’t think of much wrong with it, if anything at all. Now I can’t give it a 10 because I have done that in the past and regretted it with Death Grips – Bottomless Pit. This album is similar in regard in that its as close to perfect as possible in my mind. Now take the rating as you will.

Rating: 9.5 - 9.75 / 10

[joementa]

Week Of June 12, 2017.

Here is a list of some of the music I’ve been listening to the past week.  Format: musician – album title, or musician – “song title” (album title).

Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit – The Nashville Sound

Fleet Foxes – Crack-Up

Royal Blood – How Did We Get So Dark?

Mark Lanegan Band – Gargoyle

Katy Perry – Witness

The Killers – “The Man”

Lady Gaga – “The Cure”

Justin Townes Earle – Kids In The Street

Bruce Springsteen & The E-Street Band – Olympiastadion, Helsinki, FI 7/31/12

The Pretenders – Packed!

The Killers – Hot Fuss

The Killers – Sam’s Town

The Killers – “Runaways” (Battle Born)

Prince – 4Ever

James Brown – Revolution Of The Mind: Live At the Apollo, Volume 3

Iron & Wine – Archives Series Volume 3

Some really great albums were released this week, and I think you need to listen to both of them as soon as you can.  Royal Blood is a rockin’ band, and I love their new album How Did We Get So Dark?  And both The Nashville Sound by Jason Isbell and Crack-Up by the Fleet Foxes are great albums, and are even better on vinyl.  I think you are doing both albums a severe disservice if you don’t get them on vinyl. The Nashville Sound finds Jason Isbell doing what he always does – writing great songs.  The topics are a little different here compared with his past couple albums (in my opinion), but they don’t suffer.  And there are some real rockers here.  DO NOT miss “Hope the High Road”.  Wow. What a rocker!  And the album is just stunning on vinyl.  The packaging is fantastic and of course it sounds really great.

Then we have the latest Fleet Foxes album Crack-Up.  Again, you need to get this on vinyl.  It sounds incredible, and there are some liner notes in here that you just need to have. If you are listening to it digitally, you don’t get the line notes (at least not in a traditional way), and for this album, you want to have them.  I think they are essential materials to go along with the music itself. I’m still digesting the album – I’ve only listened to it one time – but there are definitely some themes that run throughout the album.  I wouldn’t be surprised if I consider this a concept album after I spend some more time with it.  Go to your nearest record store as soon as you can, and buy both The Nashville Sound and Crack-Up on vinyl.  You will not regret it.  

Radiohead is celebrating the 20th anniversary of OK Computer with an extra disc of b-sides and 3 unreleased songs, due to be released on July 7.  Rolling Stone recently published a pretty interest article about the making of the album. You can read that article right here: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/features/exclusive-thom-yorke-and-radiohead-on-ok-computer-w484570.  I really like Radiohead, but I wouldn’t say I’m very familiar with OK Computer.  So I’m really looking forward to this reissue, and to spending some more time with the album.

Iron & Wine is one of my favorite musicians.  Last summer, he made a great album with Jesca Hoop, called Love Letter For Fire.  If you didn’t listen to it, you should.  It was one of my favorite albums of last year.  Unfortunately I made a mistake and decided to skip their tour last summer. Why, you might ask?  I have no clue.  I don’t remember what I did the night of their local show, which means I should have gone to their show.  Consider that a lesson learned.  Because Iron & Wine has a new album coming out on August 25, called Beast Epic.  I haven’t heard anything from the album yet, but I can’t imagine it will be anything but beautiful.  The pre-order info is right here.  The deluxe LP comes with 5 bonus songs not available on the album-proper.  You know what’s even more awesome?  He’s doing a tour!  And like I said, I’ve learned my lesson.  I will not be missing this tour.  The tour dates are right here, and I think all of the shows are on sale already. I’ve already got my ticket.  John Moreland is opening the show that I’m going to. He’s an incredible songwriter, and singer, too.  John Moreland and Iron & Wine in one show.  Now that’s a great bill!

Another musician I really love is Damien Jurado.  He’s doing a 50 state tour, with a focus on playing intimate locations, not just traditional music venues.  The first two states will be Ohio and Indiana.  Below are the dates for these two states.  I’ve even included a link to buy tickets for each of the shows.  See how easy I’ve made this for you?  If you will be in the area for any of these shows, I highly encourage that you go.

6/14 – Vandalia, OH - Warehouse 4 Coffee (tix)

6/15 – Cincinnati, OH - Woodward Theatre (tix)

6/16 – Newark, OH - The Ballroom at Thirty One West (tix)

6/17 – Canton, OH - Deli (tix)

6/18 – Youngstown, OH - Historian Records Co. (tix)

6/18 – Akron, OH - Gestalt Artist Collective @ HiveMind (tix)

6/20 – Indianapolis, IN - Indy Alliance Church (tix)

6/22 – Griffith, IN - Space Revival (tix)

6/23 – South Bend, IN - Langlab (tix)

6/24 – Fort Wayne, IN - The Brass Rail (tix)

You can go here to listen to Damien Jurado talk about this project.  http://t.ymlp116.com/bmjhaiaebeyjapabuuatauhysw/click.php

Here’s his full statement on the project:

"It started as a dream as I drove past so many neighborhoods and towns on my way the "major market." I have watched our choice to connect to the experience in front of us dwindle away, only to be replaced with connection to a screen. We are told what is success, sold what is the "it" thing, and fed what people think we should know. It's not that any of those are bad, but on their own, they are nothing. We are nothing without the connection to one another. We are blessed to live in a beautiful world FULL of incredible people. If that isn't worth getting together and celebrating, I don't know what is. Join me in celebrating our country and the things that not only make us the same but also the beauty of our differences."

If you’ve never seen him live before, you’re really missing out.  He has such a beautiful voice, and his songs are incredible.  Check out his song “Museum Of Flight”.

After the great shows last weekend, I’ve been on a huge Killers kick this week.  It’s been really exciting, because I feel like they’re kick-starting my summer.  They also just announced a new album, called Wonderful Wonderful, due later this year, and also released a new song this week called “The Man.”  I’ve listened to it many times already, and will continue to do so.  

I recently read a really interesting article in the New Yorker about the label XL Recordings. You should check it out – the link to the article is right here.  They’re a really cool label that’s doing a lot of good things with music.  Also, they have a poster in their main office with this AWESOME message on it.  How perfect is this?!

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/05/15/richard-russells-xl-recordings-empire

“There is a proper procedure for taking advantage of any investment. Music, for example. Buying music is an investment. To get the maximum you must LISTEN TO IT FOR THE FIRST TIME UNDER OPTIMUM CONDITIONS. Not in your car or on a portable player through a headset. Take it home. Get rid of all distractions, (even her or him). Turn off your cell phone. Turn off everything that rings or beeps or rattles or whistles. Make yourself comfortable. Play your CD. LISTEN all the way through. Think about what you got. Think about who would appreciate this investment. Decide if there is someone to share this with. Turn it on again. Enjoy Yourself.”

The first leg of my summer shows is coming to a close, and I only had one show this past week. However, it was a great one.  I went to see Bob Dylan at the beautiful Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, NY.  I’ve wanted to get to that venue before, but the scheduling never worked. I’m so glad I finally got there, because it is one of the best venues for a show.  It’s very old and charming, and it’s a true theatre.  Make sure you get there sometime.  You won’t regret it.  And Port Chester has some really great restaurants within walking distance of the venue.  

Dylan’s show was great. Despite not saying a word to the audience, I could tell he was having a great time.  He was smiling throughout the night, and during the Sinatra/American Standards, he was dancing and shimmying and swaying across the stage. He was having fun.  I’ve seen Dylan many times, and it’s not unusual for him to not say anything to the audience.  I don’t think he’s a man of many extra words.  I saw an interview with another musician once, and although I’m forgetting his name, he was talking about touring with Dylan.  He saw Dylan backstage and asked him what he’d been up to lately.  Dylan looked at him warmly, said “traveling”, and continued on his way.  I love that story!

Watching Dylan always makes me think of my musical heroes from when I was a kid.  All of them started putting out music way before I was born, and most of them are no longer alive – Hank Williams, John Lennon, Elvis, Bob Marley.  I wasn’t able to see them.  Dylan, though, is one of the few that are still alive and kicking, and still making great music.  Go and check out one of his shows some time.  You won’t regret it.  His band is incredible.  Check out Charlie Sexton’s guitar leads.  Or Donnie Herron, who plays beautiful pedal steel and also plays so sweetly on the violin. Or the drummer, George Receli.  He gets a great sound!  Check out his playing on “Pay In Blood”.  So good!  They’re like a real jazz band.  Not necessarily the genre, but the approach.  The group is the music.  That’s how jazz musicians approach music.  Dylan’s band does the same thing.  Dylan’s a legend that I get to see each year.  That’s very special.

Speaking of Dylan, did you listen to his speech where he accepted his Nobel Prize for Literature? If not, you can listen to it right here. I think it’s pretty interesting that some are accusing him of lifting some of his speech from the SparkNotes to Moby Dick.  If it’s true, I’m not sure why it’s very surprising.  Who would turn to something like SparkNotes to get inspired for a speech about Literature?  Bob Dylan, that’s who.