Harry was, surprisingly, a heavy sleeper. Maybe it was because he finally felt safe; finally felt like he didn’t have to bolt out the door every time there was a noise, or a bump.
Though, it wasn’t always so easy for Harry to sleep. Sleep made him vulnerable. Sleep made it easy for someone to attack . Draco would set up wards, and charms before bed every night. He would hold Harry till his heart beat slowed, and his breathing evened out. Draco would wait, watching Harry’s fist uncurl, and his body stop twitching.
But that was a long time ago. Now, Harry is asleep before his head touches the pillow. Yet, somehow, he always manages to wrap himself around Draco, as if he was is anchor, his protection, his lifeline.
And Draco would hold him back just as tightly, because Harry was, after all, his whole world.
Let’s go on adventures at three in the morning
Let’s ignore our phones and laugh while we’re yawning
Let’s sing to the moon
And stay out till noon
Lying under the stars
We will know who we are
These moments are precious
We must hold them still
We’ll laugh till we’re breathless
An adventurous thrill.
A/N: I don’t usually write about Shawn, but I’ve been on a Mendes kick for about three months now and I had to write something about him!
You could hear the soft strumming of a guitar come from the living room, then some humming following after. It was the only sound present in your apartment and the one thing that made you stop working on your essay and rip the headphones from out your ear. You looked around in confusion. Eyebrows furrowing as the strumming and humming grew louder. It took you less than five seconds to make your way out your room and into the living room. A sigh of relief left your lips when you spotted the familiar head of brown hair. It had slipped your mind that Shawn was still in your home. You both were suppose to go on a date, but plans changed because you failed to remember an essay you had to do. You opted on rescheduling, but Shawn decided that just being around you was enough for the date. This being the first time he’s ever been in your apartment. The situation felt somewhat intimate even if you both were in separate rooms doing whatever.
Shawn was sat in the middle of your couch. Body hunched over a guitar and a pen tucked behind his ear. From what it seemed like he was stuck in his own world. You smiled at the sight and wondered what had brought him into a song writing mood. You leaned against the door frame and just watched him work. He was currently working on a second album and you had yet to hear anything he’s made. That was until you heard his humming turn into singing. “I can’t deny I want your body, but I’m a gentleman so I’ll be the one who takes it slowly,” he sang, stopping for a second as he thought of a line. “Cause girl you’re so beautiful,” he said, writing down the lyrics. Shawn cleared his throat once, then started to strum his guitar and sing the line again, but with the new lyric added.
“That sounds nice,” you said making Shawn jump in his spot. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you.
“You weren’t suppose to hear that,” he playfully scolded. Your head tilted to the side and you pouted at his words.
“And why is that?” you questioned, pushing off the door frame so that you could take a seat next to him. You rose your eyebrows in question. Shawn scratched at the back of his neck and bit onto his bottom lip. You could see a pinkish tint rise against his cheeks and it only made you even more curious as to why he didn’t want you to hear the song. “Tell me,” you smiled, poking him in the side.
“Because I was writing the song about you,” Shawn admitted. Your lips parted in surprise and a smile embraced your face at the news.
“You’re writing a song about me?” you whispered in question, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shawn nodded once and you shifted in your spot to rest your head against his shoulder.
“It’s not quite finished yet… I still have to write the first verse, but I have the chorus down,” he told you.
“Can I hear some of it?” you quickly asked. The words made a tingle run down his spine and Shawn eagerly nodded. “Not the whole thing because I want to be surprised when the song comes out, but just a bit,” you added. Shawn reached out for his notepad and flipped through a few pages until he got to the one he wanted to show you. He sat upright then began to play the guitar.
“I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long. Darling I wanna see every inch of you I get lost in the way you move. I wanna love you with the lights on and hold you ‘till the nights gone. Darling I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move.” He stopped singing and played the tune out a bit more. Once the sound stopped Shawn looked over to you in question. You were grinning from ear to ear.
“That’s beautiful, but also so dirty,” you chuckled. He laughed along with you and his face scrunched up in amusement.
“I may have written the song after our first time together,” he slowly confessed. You let out a squeal of amusement, covering your face in embarrassment. It was sweet that he wrote a song about you, but the meaning behind it made you weary about it behind published for the world to hear.
“I like it,” you stated, kissing his cheek. Shawn smiled at your words, his hand reaching out to squeeze at your knee.
“How’d your essay go?’” he questioned, placing his guitar on the ground and putting his attention on you.
“Good, I just have the conclusion to write,” you told him. You let out a deep sigh and then yawned. “I say we both take a break. Order some food and watch a movie?” you suggested.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Shawn smiled. The rest of the evening being spent with each other and just lounging about.
Summary: Reader is a hunter that grew up with the boys. After a two year break from hunting with the boys, they come back and things are just not the same between them.
Warnings: A LOT of angst, fighting, threats, emotional rollercoaster, adult language.
Word Count: 1500ish
Author’s Note: I have not wrote in over five years. I don’t know why but I have felt inspired. This is not good by no means. My grammar is awful and I don’t know where this is headed. If you would like MORE, let me know. I might make this into a series or just add a few more parts. If you want different stories or one shots, tell me. If you hate it and think I should never write again, say it to yourself and not my ask box. Please and thank you. :)
It was another long day. It was going to be another long night, sleeping on the floor. The floor of a dirty old house in a dirty old neighborhood. I rinsed the blood off my arms and knuckles, looking for any new bruises and cuts. As I looked in the mirror all I could see is my busted lip and look of defeat, plus exhaustion.
I peeled the blood soaked shirt from my skin, exposing the three gapping claw marks across my side. I winced as I touched them, knowing they need stitches. I heard footsteps from down the hall, approaching the door. They were loud and quick, I knew they were his. The bathroom door cracked open as I looked in the mirror I could see his face peeping around.
“Hey, kid, you all good?” His voice was low and protective.
“Fine.” I took a deep breath and reached for a clean shirt to throw on.
“You’re gonna need stitches.”
“I know.” I looked at my feet, my dirty converse, covered in fresh blood.
“It happens. We will get them next time.” He tried to be upbeat but I knew he was disappointed.
“Look at me, (y/n). It’s okay.”
“Okay.” I looked in the mirror at him, just as disappointed, if not more.
He nodded and closes the door gently, leaving me to sulk alone. I could feel the tears swell in my eyes. I felt the weight on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
“Hunters don’t cry. Hunters don’t cry. Hunters don’t cry.” I repeatedly told myself as I brushed my hair and put it up in a pony tail.
Hunters don’t cry. The words I lived by. John told me I had to be strong. I have to stay strong for the boys. Hunters don’t cry. John and Mary were my Godparents. My parents were killed by vampires when I was three. I was one year younger than Sam and five younger than Dean. John raised me like his sons, fighting the good fight. I never stopped hunting. I left the boys after John died for two years but came back because I couldn’t stay away. I left and felt completely empty. When I came back, things were different. Sam and I stayed the same. The same friendship. The same bond. Dean was an entirely different story. We avoid being too close. He knocks on my door instead of barging in. He can’t touch me and I can not touch him. He can’t look at me in the eyes. I can’t ride in Baby with just him. We can’t be in the same room alone, comfortably. We try to make things work but we can’t.
I half assed my bandage across my ribcage, covering the wound. My pajamas felt like silk but truly they were old, stretched out sweatpants and a torn up Van Halen shirt. My bare feet padded across the floor as I walked out of the bathroom. I hear a high pitched scream around the corner, I pulled the gun from behind my waist band, took a deep breath, and rounded the corner. I came face to face with the biggest monster of all, one of Dean’s bar hookups that is sadly becoming an actual relationship.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” She screams, he was right behind her laughing and then he looked up at me.
“We just had a really bad hunt, don’t scream out of no where. Next time I might just pull the trigger.” I firmly stand my ground as I put the gun back in my waist band.
“So you were just going to shoot me?!” She was screaming and being over dramatic.
“Don’t flatter yourself, honey, I’ll shoot anyone if I have to.” I roll my eyes and start to walk past.
“(Y/N), can we have a word?” Dean states as he grabs my arm gently as he pulls me aside.
“Look I’m tired, bruised, and hungry. I don’t want to hear it.” I folding my arms in front of my chest, looking at my feet.
“Just look at me.” He placed his hand on my arm.
“I can’t.” I shook his arm off, and watched his arms fall to his side.
“You can’t or you won’t.” He stated firmly.
“You know the answer.”
“What do you want me to do? You know whatever it is, I’ll do it. But we have to stop this. We aren’t a team anymore. We can’t keep doing this.” He was defeated just as much as I was.
“Nothing. You can’t do anything.” I started to walk away.
“You can let me try.” He was pleading but he still wouldn’t look at me.
“It’s a waste of time. Let’s just do our jobs.”
“Why won’t you look at me? Why won’t you let me touch you? Why won’t you stay in the same room with me? We are suppose to be family.” He was starting to get annoyed but I did not care.
“Yeah, Dean but family doesn’t do what you did to me.” I was already starting to tear up again.
“You said sorry and didn’t even mean it.”
“Yes I did!” He slammed his hand against the old wall, almost busting a hole in it.
“If you did, you would have stood by my side. You were too busy fucking that bimbo back there to even notice how I was falling the fuck apart. You can’t tell me you love me every night and hold me till I fall asleep and do what you did. You can’t fuck my brains out and did what you did.” I was crying now but I was still standing my ground.
“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO?!” He was screaming “TELL ME WHAT I DID! TELL ME HOW I BROKE YOU?! Just tell me.” Sam had run up the stairs and was standing behind him, worried but protective over the both of us.
“I waited for you. I needed you and you weren’t there. You were with her, at the bar. You were with her, not giving a damn about me.”
He looked at me, his face red. He looked at his shoes, he looked at the wall, and he raised his head to look at me. He closed in and brushed his face against mine as he whispered in my ear.
“At least she would have given the child a chance.”
“Fuck you, you fucking animal.” I drew back my arm to slap him but I felt Sam grab me. “You put me the fuck down. I swear to God Dean Winchester, I’m going to fucking kill you. If it’s the last fucking thing I do! You’re the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever met.” At this point Sam was carrying me down the hall as I fought his grip.
Dean walked down following “Do it sweetheart, you’ll shoot anyone and anything. Just like Uncle John taught you. Hunters don’t cry. Keep saying it to yourself. You’re not a hunter. You’re an abandoned women with severe daddy issues and empty heart.”
“Both of you stop this! Dean, go to bed. (Y/N), go cool off. We can deal with this tomorrow.” Sam had finally had enough. He put his arms out, distancing us. He has been our referee for years and has come quite accustomed to breaking us up.
“You wouldn’t protect her if you knew what she did, Sam. She’s not as innocent as she acts. But don’t worry, I’m the monster. Right, (y/n)? ”
Dean turned and walked back down the long hall and into his room. I hear his shoes hit the floor and her giggle. Sam looked at me, I knew he felt bad for both of us. It was our mistake. It was my choice. I wasn’t bringing up a child in the apocalypse. I couldn’t have done that.
I heard her she was giggling and saying his name. He laughed with her. He laughed like he laughed with me. I felt my heart ache so hard I was holding my chest.
“It’s okay, I’m here. Sammy’s here.” Sam’s hands were resting on my shoulders trying to calm me down. He pulled me close as I felt like I was spinning a hundred miles per hour. Sam was my big brother and best friend, he was my comfort when I had no one. He is my anchor to the real world not our world full of monsters and ghouls.
“Help me get stitched up because we have a long day tomorrow.” I pulled away, wiping away my tears, and adjusting my shirt. Hunters don’t cry.
“Sure… but (y/n), you have got to tell Dean. He has to know the truth.”
“Not now, Sammy, please just stitch up my side.”
And that he did, he stitched my side. He didn’t speak, we didn’t talk. Hearing them down the hall was all the noise that needed to be heard. I loved Dean Winchester with every ounce of my being and hate him with every fiber in my body. I loved him so much it hurt my heart but I hated him to the point I could not be around him. He was my choice of drug and addiction. He was my rising and my downfall. He was what pieced me back together but he is the one that finally broke me.
A/N: This was suggested by an anon a few days ago, who asked me to write one fic from every member of the family and since I love the Kirishimas/Yomos more than anything else in TG, I decided to adopt it (thanks nonny for the suggestion!). All the stories are not necessarily linked and can be read independently of each other. They don’t involve every single member of the family as well (eg. the siblings’ stories are about themselves rather than their parents). Read the others here: Touka | Ayato | Renji(to be updated for the others)
Reposting this because I saw a lot of grammatical mistakes and typos in my earlier post. Since we don’t know much about Ayato’s behavior as a kid, I took the liberty in exploring it heh. I don’t believe in it, but the idea that stars are souls of those who have died is something I really like, for some reason? I think it’s really interesting. Anyway, also partly why Ayato might like high places. Because stars. Please do reblog if you enjoyed this fic!
“When’s Mother coming back?”
Arata pauses for a moment. He has been waiting for the question— it’s impossible for Ayato not to ask that any time they speak— but at the same time, he’s never prepared for it. His mind falls into shambles as he desperately reaches for an answer, forcefully refusing the images that were trying to surface. He chokes back a sob that is on the verge of spilling out, takes a deep breath and looks down to meet Ayato’s eyes. Ayato dark eyes are filled with curiosity, vacant of despair despite the question he had asked. Arata forces himself to smile.
“She’s… gone somewhere where she can’t come back from,” Arata says. Just how do you explain death to a kid? He’s tried telling Ayato that his mother is dead before but all he got in return was a pair of confused blue eyes and a “So when will she come back?”
“Can’t we go to her?” Ayato asks.
“Sure, we will… one day,” Arata replies. Hopefully not soon.
“I can’t wait!” he exclaims, grinning till his eyes closed. “I want to tell her lots of things!”
“I went to the toilet on my own yesterday,” Ayato says, puffing his chest out proudly at his achievement. “So I wanna see her soon and tell her everything.”
I really don’t want you to see her soon.
“When we’re ready, we will go there… But it might take a long time,” Arata says.
“Is Mother very busy over there?” Ayato asks.
“She must be,” Arata says. He stands up and lifts Ayato up in his arms. “Do you wanna see the stars?”
15 tiny lakes found in the crevices of a broken room- handprints on the walls like seafoam, and my eyes running from it. the memories of a swimming pool early in the morning, and being too thirsty to care about the chlorine; like your mouth, on the floor of a dirty ocean and mine moving up and down like the tide. a hand as a pond, and we as the frogs or a lotus or its leaves. your body as a well, and mine being pulled out of it, close to death. here is a river, think of it as an obstacle course. find a place to row, and reach me. find a bridge or build one; i am on the other side, waiting- like a stream waiting to flow into you. here is the sea, and here we are mixing the salt in our feet with the ones in our lungs; it all tastes the same, till it disappears- like a dream. i am here, lonely. broken room, empty bed- a dying island. here you are, an ocean with no purpose or memory; both sinking. 15 lakes found in my belly. 6 for me to drown in. 1 for me to drink. 8 for me to hold, for you. till you find me again.
WATER BODIES //NAPOWRIMO 13/30 [LIT NIGHT * 30 Poetry Prompts for national poetry month 2017- Try repeating images: images of light, of a certain color, the possibilities are endless.]
THIS SONG IS ABOUT GOING TO HOLLYWOOD AND REACHING FAME, BUT ONCE THE PERSON REACHES FAME THEY GET CAUGHT UP AND GET ADDICTED TO DRUGS AND ALCOHOL.
THE BALCONY SCENE IT IS ABOUT TAKING CHANCES WITH THE ONE YOU LOVE. SUCH AS HAVING ADVENTURES OR GIVING A RELATIONSHIP A CHANCE.
BESITOS SPANISH FOR KISSES, TELLS A STORY. THE CHARACTER’S A BOY AND A GIRL, A PAIR OF OPPOSITES. HE IS ORGANIZED AND UNADVENTUROUS, AND SHE IS QUITE THE OPPOSITE. SHE LIVES IN THE FAST LANE, ADDICTED TO DRUGS AND CONSTANTLY SHOWING UP AT HIS PLACE UNEXPECTED. HE IS LIVING A HORRIBLE REALITY THAT IS INDUCED BY HER FAKE REALITY THAT IS HER GUILTY PLEASURE - HER DRUGS - AND WHILE SHE IS HAPPY HE HAS TO DEAL WITH IT. AND ALTHOUGH SHE IS TEARING APART HIS LIFE, AND SHE IS CONSTANTLY USING HIM FOR BOTH SEX, MONEY, AND A PLACE TO STAY, HE LOVES HER, AND CONTINUES TO TRY TO HELP HER AND LOVE HER THE BEST HE CAN. HE IS CONSTANTLY HAVING DREAMS ABOUT HER AND HER PERFECTION, AND HE IS CONSTANTLY WORRYING THAT SOMETHING WILL GO WRONG. SO HE DOES WHAT ANY WORRIED FRIEND WOULD DO - HE WARNS HER THAT HER DRUG ADDICTIONS WOULD KILL HER IN THE LONG RUN. SHE DOESN’T LISTEN TO HIM, AND SOON AFTER, DIES OF A DRUG OVERDOES. HE, UPSET AND CONFUSED, BEGINS TO USE THE VERY DRUGS THAT KILLED HER. AFTER VIC (THE SINGER) SCREAMS RED ROSES, THE SONG TAKES A TURN TO TWO DIFFERENT PLACES. THE DRUGS BEGIN TO DRIVE THE MAN TO INSANITY, AND HE DOESN’T KNOW WHERE HE STARTED AND WHERE HE BEGAN, AND HE CAN’T TELL WHAT’S REAL OR FAKE. HE KNOWS NOT WHETHER THE GIRL WAS EITHER A REAL PERSON, SONG, OR A FIGMENT OF HIS IMAGINATION; ALL HE KNOWS IS HIS OWN BEDROOM, WHICH HE REALIZED THROUGH HIS DRUG INDUCED DREAM COMING TO AN END, THAT ALL MAY HAVE BEEN A DREAM- BUT HIS DRUGS ARE KILLING HIM.
KISSING IN CARS VIC WROTE THIS SONG FOR A FRIEND TO GIVE TO HIS WIFE FOR THEIR ANNIVERSARY.
SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS THIS IS BASICALLY JUST THE INTRO TO “THE BOY WHO COULD FLY.” WE DECIDED TO SEPARATE THE TRACKS BECAUSE OTHERWISE, THE SONG WOULD BE AROUND SIX MINUTES LONG. THIS SHORT, LITTLE TUNE DESCRIBES MY UNEXPLAINABLE AND UNDENIABLE RECENT OBSESSION WITH SOUTHERN GIRLS. THE CLEAN GUITAR TONE IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TONES ON THE ENTIRE ALBUM. WE USED A STRATOCASTER WITH A CUSTOM AMP TO GET THE GLASSY AND UNIQUE SOUND WE WERE LOOKING FOR.
THE BOY WHO COULD FLY WE WENT BACK TO OUR SO-CALLED PUNK ROOTS FOR THIS SONG. THE ENTIRE THING IS PUNK BEATS AND SUPER-FAST GUITAR WORK. IT’S ALMOST THERAPEUTIC FOR ME TO PLAY, BECAUSE IT REPRESENTS EVERYTHING THAT WE LOVED PLAYING AS KIDS. MIKE [FUENTES] IS THE FASTEST SINGLE KICK DRUM PLAYER I’VE EVER SEEN, SO THIS SONG FEATURES HIM IN ALL HIS GLORY. THE LYRICS TALK ABOUT AN UNHEALTHY CO-DEPENDENT RELATIONSHIP IN WHICH I COULDN’T LIVE WITHOUT THE OTHER PERSON BECAUSE IF YOU TOOK HER AWAY, I WOULD LOSE HALF OF MYSELF. IT’S ABOUT OBSESSION AND DESPERATION, AND THE STUPID THINGS YOU DO WHEN YOU’RE IN LOVE. MUSICALLY IT’S THE CRAZIEST, MOST INTENSE SONG WE’VE EVER WRITTEN.
CARAPHERNELIA THE LAST TIME I SAW MY EX-GIRLFRIEND, SHE LEFT ALL KINDS OF RANDOM THINGS BEHIND AT MY HOUSE: TRAVEL SHAMPOO, A RAZOR IN THE SHOWER, HAIR CLIPS, ETC. IT WAS BASICALLY JUST A BUNCH OF STUFF THAT KEPT ME REMINDING ME OF HER, AFTER A WHILE, IT MADE ME MISS HER, AND I WONDERED WHY WE EVER BROKE UP IN THE FIRST PLACE. WHEN I WROTE THE MUSIC FOR THE CHORUS, I KNEW RIGHT AWAY THAT I WANTED TO ASK MY FRIEND JEREMY MCKINNON (OF A DAY TO REMEMBER) TO DO THE SCREAMING PARTS ON THE CHORUS AND BRIDGE. A FEW WEEKS AFTER I WROTE THE SONG, I APPROACHED JEREMY WITH THE IDEA AND HE AGREED TO SING ON THE ALBUM, IT TURNED OUT TO BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE TRACKS ONCE WE COLLABORATED. ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS TO DO IS MAKE MUSIC WITH MY FRIENDS. THAT COLLABORATION MAKES THE SONGS VERY SPECIAL TO ME.
FAST TIMES AT CLAREMONT HIGH THIS IS A VERY SELFISH SONG THAT BASICALLY SAYS, “IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU, THEN NO ONE CAN.” I THINK THIS HAS GONE THROUGH EVERYONE’S HEAD AT LEAST A COUPLE TIMES IN THEIR LIFE. THE THEME OF THIS ALBUM TALKS ABOUT THESE NATURAL THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS TO WANT AND TAKE—THE DESIRE TO BE IN LOVE AND THE DESPERATION FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO LOVE YOU. THIS SONG DEALS WITH HUMAN NATURE AND OUR SELFISH TENDENCIES. I LIKE THE MUSIC BECAUSE IT HAS A HINT OF MICHAEL JACKSON INFLUENCE.
THE NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM I USED TO DRIVE SIX HOURS JUST TO SEE THIS GIRL THAT I LIKED. SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL, BUT DIDN’T KNOW IT BECAUSE SHE WAS FROM A SMALL TOWN. I WENT TO HER PLACE ONCE AND IT WAS COMPLETELY EMPTY BECAUSE SHE WAS IN THE PROCESS OF MOVING INTO ANOTHER APARTMENT. I REMEMBER MAKING OUT WITH HER IN THE DARK IN THE MIDDLE OF HER EMPTY CARPETED FLOOR. A LOT OF THE LYRICS ARE ABOUT THAT NIGHT. I RECORDED THE INTRO TO THIS SONG IN OUR APARTMENT IN L.A. WE USED A LOT OF THE ORIGINAL SOUNDS FROM MY GHETTO LITTLE RECORDING ON THE ALBUM.
BULLETPROOF LOVE I’VE ALWAYS BEEN OBSESSED WITH HAPPY SONGS THAT HAVE MORBID LYRICS. LYRICALLY, THIS SONG IS ONE OF THE DARKEST I’VE EVER WRITTEN. IT’S ABOUT BEING OBSESSED WITH SOMEONE TO THE POINT WHERE YOU’RE HURTING YOURSELF. A LOT OF IT IS WRITTEN ALMOST LIKE A SUICIDE NOTE MEANT TO BE FOUND BY THE ONE YOU LOVE. IT’S COMPLETELY CRAZY AND EXTREME, BUT IT’S ALSO COMFORTING .
STAY AWAY FROM MY FRIENDS THIS IS ABOUT MY EX-GIRLFRIEND TRYING TO STAY IN CLOSE CONTACT WITH MY FRIENDS EVEN AFTER WE HAD BROKEN UP. WE ALL NEED OUR FRIENDS TO BE THERE FOR US AND HELP US OUT DURING HARD TIMES. I WROTE THE PIANO PARTS IN MY LIVING ROOM AT HOME IN SAN DIEGO. WE WANTED TO CHALLENGE OURSELVES WITH THIS SONG AND MAKE IT AS DIFFERENT AS POSSIBLE FROM THE REST OF THE ALBUM. WE THREW IT RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ALBUM AS A SORT OF A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. MY FRIEND DAVE YADEN PLAYED ALL THE KEYS ON THIS RECORD, AS WELL AS ON [2007’S A FLAIR FOR THE DRAMATIC], AND THAT TOOK EVERYTHING TO THE NEXT LEVEL. -VIC FUENTES
I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE CONTAGIOUS I WROTE A GREAT DEAL OF THESE LYRICS AFTER A YOUNG FAN HAD EXPLAINED TO ME THAT HER BOYFRIEND HAD JUST RECENTLY DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT. SHE TOLD ME THAT HE HELD HER HAND FOR THE FIRST TIME AT OUR ONE OF OUR SHOWS. SHE TOLD ME THAT SHE JUST WANTED TO THANK US FOR BEING A PART OF THEIR LIVES. THIS WAS ONE OF THE MOST SHOCKING AND HEARTBREAKING THINGS I’D EVER HEARD. I WROTE THE SONG AS A GIFT TO HER. IT’S MEANT TO BE HER BOYFRIEND SPEAKING TO HER, TELLING HER THAT HE IS STILL WATCHING OVER HER AND THAT HE WILL LOVE HER FOREVER.
DISASTEROLOGY THIS SONG IS BASICALLY ABOUT A TYPICAL GUY’S DREAM. IT TALKS ABOUT GIRLS, DRINKING AND HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE. IT’S VERY POETIC AND DRIFTS AROUND JUST LIKE A PERSON’S MIND WOULD INSIDE OF A DREAM. I PURPOSELY JUST WROTE DOWN THE FIRST THINGS THAT POPPED INTO MY HEAD. THE CHORUS TALKS ABOUT BUILDING SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL ONLY TO DESTROY IT. THIS IS A VERY PHILOSOPHICAL IDEA THAT I’VE PLAYED AROUND WITH FOR A LONG TIME. I WROTE MOST OF THE MUSIC IN FLORIDA WITH MY GOOD FRIEND [FORMER ADTR GUITARIST] TOM DENNEY. HE AND I WORKED ON THE MUSIC FOR THIS SONG, “THE BOY WHO COULD FLY” AND “THE SKY UNDER THE SEA.” LOVE YOU, TOM
MILLION DOLLAR HOUSES I WROTE THIS SONG AS A GIFT TO MY PARENTS. IT’S MEANT TO BE MY DAD TALKING TO MY MOM. MY DAD HAS WORKED VERY HARD HIS ENTIRE LIFE AS A PAINTING CONTRACTOR, STRUGGLING AND FIGHTING TO MAKE ENOUGH MONEY TO KEEP US GOING. WE RECENTLY HAD TO SELL OUR HOUSE BECAUSE THINGS WERE JUST GETTING TOO EXPENSIVE TO AFFORD ANYMORE. THIS SONG IS ABOUT HOW THROUGH ALL THE YEARS, MY MOM AND DAD HAVE NEVER LET MONEY TEAR THEM APART, AND NO MATTER HOW BAD THINGS GOT, THEY’VE ALWAYS HAD EACH OTHER. I STRONGLY EXPRESS MY HATRED FOR MONEY AND THE WAY IT SOMETIMES FUCKS WITH PEOPLE’S LIVES AND FAMILIES. ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE. THE BEATLES WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG. GO FIGURE.
THE SKY UNDER THE SEA THIS SONG IS SAYING HOW HE THINKS THAT SUICIDE IS SELFISH.
HELL ABOVE I WROTE THIS SONG FOR ALL OF OUR FANS WHO FEEL LIKE THEY DON’T HAVE A HOME OR A PLACE THAT THEY DON’T FIT IN. IT WAS ALL INSPIRED BY THE LETTERS, MESSAGES, AND CONVERSATIONS THAT WE’VE HAD WITH THEM OVER THE LAST COUPLE OF YEARS. IN THE CHORUS I SAY ‘THIS IS A WASTELAND, MY ONLY RETREAT. ’ I AM REFERRING TO THE SHOWS THAT WE PLAY AS A TEMPORARY HOME FOR THOSE WHO NEED IT. IT MAY NOT BE MUCH, BUT AT LEAST IT’S A PLACE WHERE WE CAN FORGET ABOUT OUR PROBLEMS FOR A LITTLE WHILE.
A MATCH INTO WATER I WROTE THIS SONG FOR MY EX-GIRLFRIEND WHO HAS BEEN FIGHTING BREAST CANCER. SHE RECENTLY FINISHED HER LAST CHEMO-THERAPY TREATMENT AND I WROTE THE LYRICS ABOUT HOW PROUD I AM OF HER FOR MAKING IT THROUGH ALL OF THE PAIN AND THE TREATMENT ALL ON HER OWN. SHE’S THE STRONGEST GIRL I’VE EVER KNOWN AND I AM INSPIRED BY HER EVERYDAY.
BULLS IN THE BRONX WHILE THEY WERE RECORDING, SOME KIDS TOLD VIC THAT A YOUNG GIRL (16) HAD JUST COMMITTED SUICIDE. THEY EXPLAINED THAT THE BAND MEANT A LOT TO HER AND SHE FELT THAT THEY SHOULD CONTACT THEM AND LET THEM KNOW WHAT HAD HAPPENED. ATTACHED TO THE MESSAGE WAS A LINK TO HER TUMBLR PAGE WHERE SHE HAD POSTED A VIDEO EXPLAINING WHY IT HAD ALL COME TO THIS AND BASICALLY SAYING HER GOODBYES. THE VIDEO HAUNTED VIC FOR WEEKS AND HE ENDED UP WRITING ABOUT HER EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE.
TANGLED IN THE GREAT ESCAPE THIS IS ABOUT VIC’S FRIEND WHO WAS/IS ADDICTED TO DRUGS AND HE WAS AFRAID HIS FRIEND WAS GOING TO DIE.
ONE HUNDRED SLEEPLESS NIGHTS THAT SONG IS ABOUT A GIRL THAT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME; KIND OF LIKE THAT GIRL YOU FEEL COULD BE “THE ONE. ” WE WERE KIND OF TOGETHER, BUT WE WEREN’T REALLY OFFICIAL. WE WERE BOTH STILL SEEING OTHER PEOPLE. SHE ENDED UP GETTING PREGNANT AND HAVING A BABY WITH SOMEONE ELSE. THAT KIND OF ENDED THE WHOLE THING. IT WAS AN INTENSE, CONFUSING EXPERIENCE FOR BOTH OF US. SHE’S A YOUNG MOM NOW AND I STILL REALLY CARE ABOUT HER, BUT SHE WAS WITH ANOTHER GUY. THAT SONG EXPLAINS THE NIGHT SHE TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED AND WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
HOLD ON TILL MAY A GIRL I USED TO DATE ONCE TOLD ME THAT HER PARENTS NEGLECTED HER AS A CHILD. SHE REMEMBERED CLIMBING THIS TREE IN HER BACKYARD AND HIDING FROM THEM JUST TO SEE IF THEY WOULD LOOK FOR HER, OR EVEN NOTICE THAT SHE WAS GONE. I ALWAYS THOUGHT IT WAS SUCH A SAD STORY AND I WROTE THIS SONG FOR HER. IT ALSO TALKS ABOUT THE UPS AND DOWNS IN THE RELATIONSHIP THAT WE’VE HAD RECENTLY.