#jazzinfor

[goldensqueeze]

  ❛     i  wish  i’d  known  you  in  my  youth    —    we  could  ‘ave  really  raised  hell   .    ❜   

↠    @jazzinfor​

[modernloved]

starter for @jazzinfor​:

He had been hired by MTV as a VJ during one of his rare hiatuses from touring. It would afford him some much-needed extra time with his family, which he couldn’t get when constantly travelling and living from hotel to hotel. A pattern which had proven to be especially hard for Jeannie.

As part of this new job, Jareth was currently shooting a promo for MTV, a short commercial-length clip. Much like one of his own music videos, he’d gotten his wife cast in it, the video vixen for this ad, and they were now both on set preparing to film this short scene together. It was simple enough and involved him saying the tagline I Want My MTV while Jeannie would probably strike some angular, stylish poses around him. No doubt the cartoon logo for the network would be superimposed into the shot too when the promo was finally aired.

Walking up to her on set now, noting the colorful eyeshadow that the stylist had applied to her face. The whole aesthetic for this clip was of course very ’80s and cutting edge. He leaned down to murmur close to her ear, brow furrowed slightly with concern. “You know, darling, I’m really not sure this was the best idea.” A skeptical tone, referring to filming this silly little commercial, as if it still wasn’t quite something he was fully comfortable doing—an ironic statement given that he himself had already made some of the cheesiest music videos imaginable, one of which had involved rollerblades.

[citialiin]

          ☆ ESTABLISHED TRANSMISSION WITH : @jazzinfor

     ❝ OH, ❞ HE admonishes, a spindly hand clad in heavy silver rings clasped over his mouth,  ❝ this will simply not do. ❞

     HER MAKE UP is stunning -- she is stunning, but he’s aiming for an angle a tad more stupefying than stunning.  The flattering, delicate shadow emphasizing her dark lashes and blue irises, the dusting of pink on the high bone of her cheek; it’s all rather pretty, but this is his album artwork, and he thinks she needs a bit more magenta, like, everywhere.  And blue.  And electric yellow and neon green.  

     HE DISMISSES the apparently rather untalented girl previously applying her cosmetics, dipping a brush heavily into the bright red powder pigment as he rubs away the previous traces of heather grays and muted browns.  ❝ You do look lovely, ❞ he clarifies, ❝ but -- as you can see -- I do my own make up, and I think it’d be best if I did yours, too.  I’ve got a rather specific vision I’m aiming for, you know, and I need this to be perfect. ❞

[ofcocaine]

      ❝ i-i really don’t understand l... hm, ❞ he slurs, making little to no sense. he was unbalanced and struggling to keep himself held up. his hands are shaking, and the ice cubes in his glass clank as he raises the brim to meet his lips. he had brought jeannie along with him for some tour dates; during such tours, he tended to lose himself more than usual but it was rare that he’d take it this far. suddenly, he falls to his knees, his glass rolling across the floor and its contents spilling. he had taken quaaludes that a fan had offered him after the show -- and surely, he underestimated their potency.

starter | @jazzinfor

[portcls-blog]

               “  alright,   we don’t have time to argue so ── so get through the portal. ”        fingers roll in a lazy gesture towards their escape,    eyes narrowed.     “ i’ll explain later,  come on ! ”      //    @jazzinfor

[horridcassette-blog]

@jazzinfor​

❛ The moment a needle touches vinyl it signifies the beginning of a spiraling journey. How about we make another album, darling? I don’t think we’ve even scratched the surface of our greatest hits. ❜

[labyrinthmonarch]

continued from here  ↪  @jazzinfor​

    “I cannot imagine you having a bad side,” Jareth says, smiling as he cleans the last of his utensils and adjusts his jacket. “I heard there’s a fantastic restaurant down the block. I haven’t had the chance to go yet but apparently the bread is to die for.”

[bythewall-a-blog]

starter for: @jazzinfor​

It had been a lonely night, lonely night upon lonely night. The gig had been fun, that was for sure, but it had been a numb kind of fun. Fatigue had set in. This escape to Germany — David had planned it as something of a sabbatical. It had done him some good, but old habits die hard. David was fast approaching the age of thirty, the age at which old dogs struggle to learn new tricks. Every second pained him. The passage of the years, stagnant and leaden as it was, felt like a fifty-kilo weight tied across his shoulders.

When David reached home, the end of a long trudge, boots chafing his tired feet, still little more than raw bone, the first thing he did was to take an excursion to his dressing table. It always looked as though, childlike, he had smashed a Christmas snowglobe onto it. He may as well have, for all the damage that he’d done. David hadn’t bought any in months, not since he left Los Angeles. Los Angeles. There were no angels there.

Credit-card scrapings from the residue on the wooden surface would have to do by now. David threw his straw aside and began his next venture outside. As soon as the sharp night-time breeze hit his face, chilled his hands, he knew that this had been a bad idea. His resistance to the effects of that damned stuff had fallen rapidly, what with so many long, long sluggish days' abstinence. Clenching, unclenching his fists and jaw, shuddering, he turned to return. He'd always been so terrified of death, and like a bolt of lightning that immobilising, petrifying fear had its icy hands around his bones. He felt as though he had been stabbed in the chest, his heart split and struggling like a dying fly. Mere yards from home, David slid to his knees and, clutching his head, faded strawberry blond clumps sprouting between his fingers. He couldn't help but cry, for all the days torn from his grip, for all the life he could have lived.