#( THIS SCENE EXPANDED MY LIFETIME )

[turnstileskyline]

The Oral History of Take This To Your Grave – transcription under the cut

The pages that are just photographs, I haven't included. This post is already long enough.

Things that happened in 2003: Arnold Schwarzenegger became governor of California. Teen Vogue published its first issue. The world lost Johnny Cash. Johnny Depp appeared as Captain Jack Sparrow for the first time. A third Lord of the Rings movie arrived. Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, and Andy Hurley released Take This To Your Grave.

"About 21 years ago or so, as I was applying to colleges I would ultimately never go to, Fall Out Boy began as a little pop-punk side project of what we assumed was Pete's more serious band, Arma Angelus," Patrick wrote in a May 2023 social media post.

"We were sloppy and couldn't solidify a lineup, but the three of us (Pete, Joe, and I) were having way too much fun to give up on it."

"We were really rough around the edges. As an example of how rough, one of my favorite teachers pulled me aside after hearing the recording that would eventually become Evening Out With Your Girlfriend and tactfully said, 'What do you think your best instrument is, Patrick? Drums. It's drums. Probably not singing, Patrick.'"

"We went into Smart Studios with the Sean O'Keefe... So, there we were, 3/5 of a band with a singer who'd only been singing a year, no drummer, and one out of two guitarists. But we had the opportunity to record with Sean at Butch Vig's legendary studio.

"Eight or so months later, Fueled by Ramen would give us a contract to record the remaining songs. We'd sleep on floors, eat nothing but peanut butter and jelly, live in a van for the next three years, and somehow despite that, eventually play with Elton John and Taylor Swift and Jay-Z and for President Obama and the NFC championship, and all these other wildly unpredictable things. But none of that would ever come close to happening if Andy hadn't made it to the session and Joe hadn't dragged us kicking and screaming into being a band."

Two decades after its release, Take This To Your Grave sits comfortable in the Top 10 of Rolling Stone's 50 Greatest Pop-Punk Albums, edging out landmark records from Buzzcocks, Generation X, Green Day, The Offspring, Blink-182, and The Ramones.

It even ranked higher than Through Being Cool by Saves The Day and Jersey's Best Dancers from Lifetime, two records the guys in Fall Out Boy particularly revere.

Fall Out Boy's proper full-length debut on Fueled by Ramen is a deceptively smart, sugar-sweet, raw, energetic masterpiece owing as much to the bass player's pop culture passions, the singers deep love of R&B and soul, and their shared history in the hardcore scene as any pioneering punk band. Fall Out Boy's creative and commercial heights were still ahead, but Take This To Your Grave kicked it off, a harbinger for the enduring songwriting partnership between Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz, the eclectic contributions from Joe Trohman, and the propulsive powerhouse that is Andy Hurley.

The recordings document a special moment when Fall Out Boy was big in "the scene" but a "secret" from the mainstream. The band (and some of their friends) first sat down for an Oral History (which doubled as an Oral History of their origin story) with their old friend Ryan J. Downey, then Senior Editor for Alternative Press, upon the occasion of the album's 10th anniversary. What follows is an updated, sharper, and expanded version of that story, newly re-edited in 2023. As Patrick eloquently said: "Happy 20th birthday, Take This To Your Grave, you weird brilliant lightning strike accident of a record."

– Ryan J. Downey.

A Weird, Brilliant Lightning Strike Of A Record. The Oral History Of Fall Out Boy's Take This To Your Grave.

As told by:

Patrick Stump

Pete Wentz

Joe Trohman

Andy Hurley

Bob McLynn - Crush Music

Sean O'Keefe - Producer/Mixer

John Janick - Fueled By Ramen

Tim McIlrath - Rise Against

Mani Mostofi - Racetraitor

Chris Gutierrez - Arma Angelus

Mark Rose - Spitalfield

Sean Muttaqi - Uprising Records

Rory Felton - The Militia Group

Richard Reines - Drive-Thru Records

"To Feel No More Bitterness Forever" - From Hardcore to Softcore, 1998-2000

PETE WENTZ: When I got into hardcore, it was about discovering the world beyond yourself. There was a culture of trying to be a better person. That was part of what was so alluring about hardcore and punk for me. But for whatever reason, it shifted. Maybe this was just in Chicago, but it became less about the thought process behind it and more about moshing and breakdowns. There was a close-mindedness that felt very reactive.

TIM MCILRITH: I saw First Born many years ago, which was the first time I saw Pete and met him around then. This was '90s hardcore - p.c., vegan, activist kind of hardcore music. Pete was in many of those bands doing that kind of thing, and I was at many of those shows. The hardcore scene in Chicago was pretty small, so everyone kind of knew each other. I knew Andy Hurley as the drummer in Racetraitor. I was in a band called Baxter, so Pete always called me 'Baxter.' I was just 'Baxter' to a lot of those guys.

JOE TROHMAN: I was a young hardcore kid coming to the shows. The same way we all started doing bands. You're a shitty kid who goes to punk and hardcore shows, and you see the other bands playing, and you want to make friends with those guys because you want to play in bands too. Pete and I had a bit of a connection because we're from the same area. I was the youngest dude at most shows. I would see Extinction, Racetraitor, Burn It Down, and all the bands of that era.

WENTZ: My driver's license was suspended then, so Joe drove me everywhere. We listened to either Metalcore like Shai Hulud or pop-punk stuff like Screeching Weasel.

MCILRITH: I was in a band with Pete called Arma Angelus. I was like their fifth or sixth bass player. I wasn't doing anything musically when they hit me up to play bass, so I said, 'Of course.' I liked everyone in the band. We were rehearsing, playing a few shows here and there, with an ever-revolving cast of characters. We recorded a record together at the time. I even sing on that record, believe it or not, they gave me a vocal part. Around that same time, I began meeting with [bassist] Joe [Principe] about starting what would become Rise Against.

CHRIS GUTIERREZ: Wentz played me the Arma Angelus demo in the car. He said he wanted it to be a mix of Despair, Buried Alive, and Damnation A.D. He told me Tim was leaving to start another band - which ended up being Rise Against - and asked if I wanted to play bass.

TROHMAN: Pete asked me to fill in for a tour when I was 15. Pete had to call my dad to convince him to let me go. He did it, too. It was my first tour, in a shitty cargo van, with those dudes. They hazed the shit out of me. It was the best and worst experience. Best overall, worst at the time.

GUTIERREZ: Enthusiasm was starting to wane in Arma Angelus. Our drummer was really into cock-rock. It wasn't an ironic thing. He loved L.A. Guns, Whitesnake, and Hanoi Rocks. It drove Pete nuts because the scene was about Bleeding Through and Throwdown, not cock rock. He was frustrated that things weren't panning out for the band, and of course, there's a ceiling for how big a metalcore band can get, anyway.

MANI MOSTOFI: Pete had honed this tough guy persona, which I think was a defense mechanism. He had some volatile moments in his childhood. Underneath, he was a pretty sensitive and vulnerable person. After playing in every mosh-metal band in the Midwest and listening exclusively to Earth Crisis, Damnation A.D., Chokehold, and stuff like that for a long time, I think Pete wanted to do something fresh. He had gotten into Lifetime, Saves The Day, The Get Up Kids, and bands like that. Pete was at that moment where the softer side of him needed an outlet, and didn't want to hide behind mosh-machismo. I remember him telling me he wanted to start a band that more girls could listen to.

MCILRATH: Pete was talking about starting a pop-punk band. Bands like New Found Glory and Saves The Day were successful then. The whole pop-punk sound was accessible. Pete was just one of those guys destined for bigger things than screaming for mediocre hardcore bands in Chicago. He's a smart guy, a brilliant guy. All the endeavors he had taken on, even in the microcosm of the 1990s Chicago hardcore world, he put a lot of though into it. You could tell that if he were given a bigger receptacle to put that thought into, it could become something huge. He was always talented: lyrics, imagery, that whole thing. He was ahead of the curve. We were in this hardcore band from Chicago together, but we were both talking about endeavors beyond it.

TROHMAN: The drummer for Arma Angelus was moving. Pete and I talked about doing something different. It was just Pete and me at first. There was this thuggishness happening in the Chicago hardcore scene at that time that wasn't part of our vibe. It was cool, but it wasn't our thing.

MCILRITH: One day at Arma Angelus practice, Pete asked me, 'Are you going to do that thing with Joe?' I was like, 'Yeah, I think so.' He was like, 'You should do that, dude. Don't let this band hold you back. I'll be doing something else, too. We should be doing other things.' He was really ambitious. It was so amazing to me, too, because Pete was a guy who, at the time, was kind of learning how to play the bass. A guy who didn't really play an instrument will do down in history as one of the more brilliant musicians in Chicago. He had everything else in his corner. He knew how to do everything else. He needed to get some guys behind him because he had the rest covered. He had topics, themes, lyrics, artwork, this whole image he wanted to do, and he was uncompromising. He also tapped into something the rest of us were just waking up to: the advent of the internet. I mean, the internet wasn't new, but higher-speed internet was.

MOSTOFI: Joe was excited to be invited by Pete to do a band. Joe was the youngest in our crew by far, and Pete was the 'coolest' in a Fonzie sort of way. Joe deferred to Pete's judgement for years. But eventually, his whole life centered around bossy big-brother Pete. I think doing The Damned Things was for Joe what Fall Out Boy was for Pete, in a way. It was a way to find his own space within the group of friends. Unsurprisingly, Joe now plays a much more significant role in Fall Out Boy's music.

WENTZ: I wanted to do something easy and escapist. When Joe and I started the band, it was the worst band of all time. I feel like people said, 'Oh, yeah, you started Fall Out Boy to get big.' Dude, there was way more of a chance of every other band getting big in my head than Fall Out Boy. It was a side thing that was fun to do. Racetraitor and Extinction were big bands to me. We wanted to do pop-punk because it would be fun and hilarious. It was definitely on a lark. We weren't good. If it was an attempt at selling out, it was a very poor attempt.

MCILRITH: It was such a thing for people to move from hardcore bands to bands called 'emo' or pop-punk, as those bands were starting to get some radio play and signed to major labels. Everyone thought it was easy, but it's not as easy as that. Most guys we knew who tried it never did anything more successful than their hardcore bands. But Pete did it! And if anyone was going to, it was going to be him. He never did anything half-assed. He ended up playing bass in so many bands in Chicago, even though he could barely play the bass then, because simply putting him in your band meant you'd have a better show. He was just more into it. He knew more about dynamics, about getting a crowd to react to what you're doing than most people. Putting Pete in your band put you up a few notches.

"I'm Writing You A Chorus And Here Is Your Verse" - When Pete met Patrick, early 2001.

MARK ROSE: Patrick Stump played drums in this grindcore band called Grinding Process. They had put out a live split cassette tape.

PATRICK STUMP: My ambition always outweighed my ability or actual place in the world. I was a drummer and played in many bands and tried to finagle my way into better ones but never really managed. I was usually outgunned by the same two guys: this guy Rocky Senesce; I'm not sure if he's playing anymore, but he was amazing. And this other guy, De'Mar Hamilton, who is now in Plain White T's. We'd always go out for the same bands. I felt like I was pretty good, but then those guys just mopped the floor with me. I hadn't been playing music for a few months. I think my girlfriend dumped me. I was feeling down. I wasn't really into pop-punk or emo. I think at the time I was into Rhino Records box sets.

TROHMAN: I was at the Borders in Eden's Plaza in Wilmette, Illinois. My friend Arthur was asking me about Neurosis. Patrick just walked up and started talking to me.

STUMP: I was a bit arrogant and cocky, like a lot of young musicians. Joe was talking kind of loudly and I overheard him say something about Neurosis, and I think I came in kind of snotty, kind of correcting whatever they had said.

TROHMAN: We just started talking about music, and my buddy Arthur got shoved out of the conversation. I told him about the band we were starting. Pete was this local hardcore celebrity, which intrigued Patrick.

STUMP: I had similar conversations with any number of kids my age. This conversation didn't feel crazy special. That's one of the things that's real about [Joe and I meeting], and that's honest about it, that's it's not some 'love at first sight' thing where we started talking about music and 'Holy smokes, we're going to have the best band ever!' I had been in a lot of bands up until then. Hardcore was a couple of years away from me at that point. I was over it, but Pete was in real bands; that was interesting. Now I'm curious and I want to do this thing, or at least see what happens. Joe said they needed a drummer, guitar player, or singer, and I kind of bluffed and said I could do any one of those things for a pop-punk band. I'd had a lot of conversations about starting bands where I meet up with somebody and maybe try to figure out some songs and then we'd never see each other again. There were a lot of false starts and I assumed this would be just another one of those, but it would be fun for this one to be with the guy from Racetraitor and Extinction.

TROHMAN: He gave me the link to his MP3.com page. There were a few songs of him just playing acoustic and singing. He was awesome.

WENTZ: Joe told me we were going to this kid's house who would probably be our drummer but could also sing. He sent me a link to Patrick singing some acoustic thing, but the quality was so horrible it was hard to tell what it was. Patrick answered the door in some wild outfit. He looked like an emo kid but from the Endpoint era - dorky and cool. We went into the basement, and he was like, trying to set up his drums.

TROHMAN: Patrick has said many times that he intended to try out on drums. I was pushing for him to sing after hearing his demos. 'Hey! Sing for us!' I asked him to take out his acoustic guitar. He played songs from Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. I think he sang most of the record to us. We were thrilled. We had never been around someone who could sing like that.

WENTZ: I don't think Patrick thought we were cool at all. We were hanging out, and he started playing acoustic guitar. He started singing, and I realized he could sing any Saves The Day song. I was like, 'Wow, that's the way those bands sound! We should just have you sing.' It had to be serendipity because Patrick drumming and Joe singing is not the same band. I never thought about singing. It wasn't the type of thing I could sing. I knew I'd be playing bass. I didn't think it'd even go beyond a few practices. It didn't seem like the thing I was setting myself up to do for the next several years of my life in any way. I was going to college. It was just a fun getaway from the rest of life kind of thing to do.

STUMP: Andy was the first person we asked to play drums. Joe even brought him up in the Borders conversation. But Andy was too busy. He wasn't really interested, either, because we kind of sucked.

WENTZ: I wanted Hurley in the band, I was closest to him at the time, I had known him for a long time. I identified with him in the way that we were the younger dudes in our larger group. I tried to get him, but he was doing another band at the time, or multiple bands. He was Mani's go-to guy to play drums, always. I had asked him a few times. That should clue people into the fact that we weren't that good.

ANDY HURLEY: I knew Joe as 'Number One Fan.' We called him that because he was a huge fan of a band I was in, Kill The Slavemaster. When Fall Out Boy started, I was going to college full-time. I was in the band Project Rocket and I think The Kill Pill then, too.

MOSTOFI: After they got together the first or second time, Pete played me a recording and said, 'This is going to be big.' They had no songs, no name, no drummer. They could barely play their instruments. But Pete knew, and we believed him because we could see his drive and Patrick's potential. Patrick was prodigy. I imagine the first moment Pete heard him sing was probably like when I heard 15-year-old Andy Hurley play drums.

GUTIERREZ: One day at practice, Pete told me he had met some dudes with whom he was starting a pop-punk band. He said it would sound like a cross between New Found Glory and Lifetime. Then the more Fall Out Boy started to practice, the less active Arma Angelus became.

TROHMAN: We got hooked up with a friend named Ben Rose, who became our original drummer. We would practice in his parents' basement. We eventually wrote some pretty bad songs. I don't even have the demo. I have copies of Arma's demo, but I don't have that one.

MOSTOFI: We all knew that hardcore kids write better pop-punk songs than actual pop-punk kids. It had been proven. An experienced hardcore musician could bring a sense of aggression and urgency to the pop hooks in a way that a band like Yellowcard could never achieve. Pete and I had many conversations about this. He jokingly called it 'Softcore,' but that's precisely what it was. It's what he was going for. Take This To Your Grave sounds like Hot Topic, but it feels like CBGBs.

MCILRITH: Many hardcore guys who transitioned into pop-punk bands dumbed it down musically and lyrically. Fall Out Boy found a way to do it that wasn't dumbed down. They wrote music and lyrics that, if you listened closely, you could tell came from people who grew up into hardcore. Pete seemed to approach the song titles and lyrics the same way he attacked hardcore songs. You could see his signature on all of that.

STUMP: We all had very different ideas of what it should sound like. I signed up for Kid Dynamite, Strike Anywhere, or Dillinger Four. Pete was very into Lifetime and Saves The Day. I think both he and Joe were into New Found Glory and Blink-182. I still hadn't heard a lot of stuff. I was arrogant; I was a rock snob. I was over most pop-punk. But then I had this renaissance week where I was like, 'Man, you know what? I really do like The Descendents.' Like, the specific week I met Joe, it just happened to be that I was listening to a lot of Descendents. So, there was a part of me that was tickled by that idea. 'You know what? I'll try a pop-punk band. Why not?'

MOSTOFI: To be clear, they were trying to become a big band. But they did it by elevating radio-friendly pop punk, not debasing themselves for popularity. They were closely studying Drive-Thru Records bands like The Starting Line, who I couldn't stand. But they knew what they were doing. They extracted a few good elements from those bands and combined them with their other influences. Patrick never needed to be auto-tuned. He can sing. Pete never had to contrive this emotional depth. He always had it.

STUMP: The ideas for band names were obnoxious. At some point, Pete and I were arguing over it, and I think our first drummer, Ben Rose, who was in the hardcore band Strength In Numbers, suggested Fall Out Boy. Pete and I were like, 'Well, we don't hate that one. We'll keep it on the list.' But we never voted on a name.

"Fake It Like You Matter" - The Early Shows, 2001

The name Fall Out Boy made their shortlist, but their friends ultimately chose it for them. The line-up at the band's first show was Patrick Stump (sans guitar), Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, drummer Ben Rose, and guitarist John Flamandan in his only FOB appearance.

STUMP: We didn't have a name at our two or three shows. We were basically booked as 'Pete's new band' as he was the most known of any of us. Pete and I were the artsy two.

TROHMAN: The rest of us had no idea what we were doing onstage.

STUMP: We took ourselves very seriously and completely different ideas on what was 'cool.' Pete at the time was somewhere between maybe Chuck Palahniuk and Charles Bukowski, and kind of New Romantic and Manchester stuff, so he had that in mind. The band names he suggested were long and verbose, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. I was pretty much only into Tom Waits, so I wanted everything to be a reference to Tom Waits. The first show was at DePaul [University] in some cafeteria. The room looked a lot nicer than punk rock shows are supposed to look, like a room where you couldn't jump off the walls. We played with a band called Stillwell. I want to say one of the other bands played Black Sabbath's Black Sabbath in its entirety. We were out of place. We were tossing a few different names around. The singer for Stillwell was in earshot of the conversation so I was like 'Hey, settle this for us,' and told him whatever name it was, which I can't remember. 'What do you think of this name?' He goes, 'It sucks.' And the way he said it, there was this element to it, like, 'You guys probably suck, too, so whatever.' That was our first show. We played first and only had three songs. That was John's only show with us, and I never saw him again. I was just singing without a guitar, and I had never just sung before; that was horrifying. We blazed through those songs.

ROSE: Patrick had this shoulder-length hair. Watching these guys who were known for heavier stuff play pop-punk was strange. Pete was hopping around with the X's on his hands. Spitalfield was similar; we were kids playing another style of music who heard Texas Is The Reason and Get Up Kids and said, 'We have to start a band like this.'

MOSTOFI: The first show was a lot of fun. The musical side wasn't there, but Pete and Patrick's humor and charisma were front and center.

TROHMAN: I remember having a conversation with Mani about stage presence. He was telling me how important it was. Coalesce and The Dillinger Escape Plan would throw mic stands and cabinets. We loved that visual excitement and appeal. Years later, Patrick sang a Fall Out Boy song with Taylor Swift at Giants Stadium. It was such a great show to watch that I was reminded of how wise Mani was to give me that advice back then. Mani was like a mentor for me, honestly. He would always guide me through stuff.

MOSTOFI: Those guys grew up in Chicago, either playing in or seeing Extinction, Racetraitor, Los Crudos, and other bands that liked to talk and talk between songs. Fall Out Boy did that, and it was amazing. Patrick was awkward in a knowing and hilarious way. He'd say something odd, and then Pete would zing him. Or Pete would try to say something too cool, and Patrick would remind him they were nerds. These are very personal memories for me. Millions of people have seen the well-oiled machine, but so few of us saw those guys when they were so carefree.

TROHMAN: We had this goofy, bad first show, but all I can tell you was that I was determined to make this band work, no matter what.

STUMP: I kind of assumed that was the end of that. 'Whatever, on with our lives.' But Joe was very determined. He was going to pick us up for practice and we were going to keep playing shows. He was going to make the band happen whether the rest of us wanted to or not. That's how we got past show number one. John left the band because we only had three songs and he wasn't very interested. In the interim, I filled in on guitar. I didn't consider myself a guitar player. Our second show was a college show in Southern Illinois or something.

MCILRITH: That show was with my other band, The Killing Tree.

STUMP: We showed up late and played before The Killing Tree. There was no one there besides the bands and our friends. I think we had voted on some names. Pete said 'Hey, we're whatever!'; probably something very long. And someone yells out, 'Fuck that, no, you're Fall Out Boy!' Then when The Killing Tree was playing, Tim said, 'I want to thank Fall Out Boy.' Everyone looked up to Tim, so when he forced the name on us, it was fine. I was a diehard Simpsons fan, without question. I go pretty deep on The Simpsons. Joe and I would just rattle off Simpsons quotes. I used to do a lot of Simpsons impressions. Ben was very into Simpsons; he had a whole closet full of Simpsons action figures.

"If Only You Knew I Was Terrified" - The Early Recordings, 2002-2003

Wentz's relationships in the hardcore scene led to Fall Out Boy's first official releases. A convoluted and rarely properly explained chain of events resulted in the Fall Out Boy/Project Rocket split EP and Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend. Both were issued by California's Uprising Records, whose discography included Racetraitor's first album and the debut EP by Burn It Down. The band traveled to Wisconsin to record their first proper demo with engineer Jared Logan, drummer for Uprising's 7 Angels 7 Plagues.

TROHMAN: This isn't to be confused with the demo we did in Ben's basement, which was like a tape demo. This was our first real demo.

STUMP: Between booking the demo and recording it, we lost Ben Rose. He was the greatest guy, but it wasn't working out musically. Pete and Joe decided I should play drums on the demo. But Jared is a sick drummer, so he just did it.

TROHMAN: We had gotten this great singer but went through a series of drummers that didn't work out. I had to be the one who kicked Ben out. Not long after, our friend Brett Bunting played with us. I don't think he really wanted to do it, which was a bummer.

STUMP: I showed up to record that demo, feeling pulled into it. I liked hanging out with the guys, but I was a rock snob who didn't really want to be making that type of music. The first few songs were really rough. We were sloppy. We barely practiced. Pete was in Arma Angelus. Joe was the guy determined to make it happen. We couldn't keep a drummer or guitar player, and I could barely play guitar. I didn't really want to be in Fall Out Boy. We had these crappy songs that kind of happened; it didn't feel like anything. Joe did the guitars. I go in to do the vocals, I put on the headphones, and it starts playing and was kind of not bad! It was pretty good, actually. I was shocked. That was the first time I was like, 'Maybe I am supposed to be in this band.' I enjoyed hearing it back.

SEAN MUTTAQI: Wentz and I were pretty tight. He sent me some demos, and while I didn't know it would get as big as it did, I knew it was special. Wentz had a clear vision. Of all the guys from that scene, he was the most singularly focused on taking things to the next level. He was ahead of the game with promotion and the early days of social media.

STUMP: Arma Angelus had been on Eulogy. We talked to them a bit and spoke to Uprising because they had put out Racetraitor. At some point, the demo got to Sean, and he decided to make it half of a split with Andy's band, Project Rocket. We were pretty happy with that.

HURLEY: It was kind of competitive for me at the time. Project Rocket and Fall Out Boy were both doing pop-punk/pop-rock, I met Patrick through the band. I didn't really know him before Fall Out Boy.

TROHMAN: We got this drummer, Mike Pareskuwicz, who had been in a hardcore band from Central Illinois called Subsist.

STUMP: Uprising wanted us to make an album. We thought that was cool, but we only had those three songs that were on the split. We were still figuring ourselves out. One of the times we were recording with Jared in the studio, for the split or the album, this guy T.J. Kunasch was there. He was like, 'Hey, do you guys need a guitarist?' And he joined.

MUTTAQI: I borrowed some money to get them back in the studio. The songwriting was cool on that record, but it was all rushed. The urgency to get something out led to the recording being subpar. Their new drummer looked the part but couldn't really play. They had already tracked the drums before they realized it didn't sound so hot.

STUMP: The recording experience was not fun. We had two days to do an entire album. Mike was an awesome dude, but he lived crazy far away, in Kanakee, Illinois, so the drive to Milwaukee wasn't easy for him. He had to work or something the next day. So, he did everything in one take and left. He played alone, without a click, so it was a ness to figure out. We had to guess where the guitar was supposed to go. None of us liked the songs because we had slapped them together. We thought it all sucked. But I thought, 'Well, at least it'll be cool to have something out.' Then a lot of time went by. Smaller labels were at the mercy of money, and it was crazy expensive to put out a record back then.

MUTTAQI: Our record was being rushed out to help generate some interest, but that interest was building before we could even get the record out. We were beholden to finances while changing distribution partners and dealing with other delays. The buck stops with me, yes, but I didn't have that much control over the scheduling.

WENTZ: It's not what I would consider the first Fall Out Boy record. Hurley isn't on it and he's an integral part of the Fall Out Boy sound. But it is part of the history, the legacy. NASA didn't go right to the moon. They did test flights in the desert. Those are our test flights in the desert. It's not something I'm ashamed of or have weird feelings about.

STUMP: It's kind of embarrassing to me. Evening Out... isn't representative of the band we became. I liked Sean a lot, so it's nothing against him. If anybody wants to check out the band in that era, I think the split EP is a lot cooler. Plus, Andy is on that one.

TROHMAN: T.J. was the guy who showed up to the show without a guitar. He was the guy that could never get it right, but he was in the band for a while because we wanted a second guitar player. He's a nice dude but wasn't great to be in a band with back then. One day he drove unprompted from Racine to Chicago to pick up some gear. I don't know how he got into my parents' house, but the next thing I knew, he was in my bedroom. I didn't like being woken up and kicked him out of the band from bed.

STUMP: Our friend Brian Bennance asked us to do a split 7" with 504 Plan, which was a big band to us. Brian offered to pay for us to record with Sean O'Keefe, which was also a big deal. Mike couldn't get the time off work to record with us. We asked Andy to play on the songs. He agreed to do it, but only if he could make it in time after recording an entire EP with his band, The Kill Pill, in Chicago, on the same day.

MOSTOFI: Andy and I started The Kill Pill shortly after Racetraitor split up, not long after Fall Out Boy had formed. We played a bunch of local shows together. The minute Andy finished tracking drums for our EP in Chicago, he raced to the other studio in Madison.

STUMP: I'm getting ready to record the drums myself, getting levels and checking the drums, pretty much ready to go. And then in walks Andy Hurley. I was a little bummed because I really wanted to play drums that day. But then Andy goes through it all in like two takes and fucking nailed the entire thing. He just knocked it out of the park. All of us were like, 'That's crazy!'

WENTZ: When Andy came in, It just felt different. It was one of those 'a-ha' moments.

STUMP: Sean leaned over to us and said, 'You need to get this guy in the band.'

SEAN O'KEEFE: We had a blast. We pumped It out. We did it fast and to analog tape. People believe it was very Pro Tools oriented, but it really was done to 24-track tape. Patrick sang his ass off.

STUMP: The songs we had were 'Dead On Arrival,' 'Saturday,' and 'Homesick at Space Camp. There are quite a few songs that ended up on Take This To You Grave where I wrote most of the lyrics but Pete titled them.

WENTZ: 'Space Camp' was a reference to the 1986 movie, SpaceCamp, and the idea of space camp. Space camp wasn't something anyone in my area went to. Maybe they did, but it was never an option for me. It seems like the little kid version of meeting Jay-Z. The idea was also: what if you, like Joaquin Phoenix in the movie, took off to outer space and wanted to get home? 'I made it to space and now I'm just homesick and want to hang out with my friends.' In the greater sense, it's about having it all, but it's still not enough. There's a pop culture reference in 'Saturday' that a lot of people miss. 'Pete and I attack the lost Astoria' was a reference to The Goonies, which was filmed in Astoria, Oregon.

HURLEY: I remember hearing those recordings, especially 'Dead on Arrival,' and Patrick's voice and how well written those songs were, especially relative to anything else I had done - I had a feeling that this could do something.

WENTZ: It seemed like it would stall out if we didn't get a solid drummer in the band soon. That was the link that we couldn't nail down. Patrick was always a big musical presence. He thinks and writes rhythmi-cally, and we couldn't get a drummer to do what he wanted or speak his language. Hurley was the first one that could. It's like hearing two drummers talk together when they really get it. It sounds like a foreign language because it's not something I'm keyed into. Patrick needed someone on a similar musical plane. I wasn't there. Joe was younger and was probably headed there.

HURLEY: When Patrick was doing harmonies, it was like Queen. He's such a brilliant dude. I was always in bands that did a record and then broke up. I felt like this was a band that could tour a lot like the hardcore bands we loved, even if we had to have day jobs, too.

"(Four) Tired Boys And A Broken Down Van" - The Early Tours, 2002-2003

STUMP: We booked a tour with Spitalfield, another Chicago band, who had records out, so they were a big deal to us. We replaced T.J. with a guy named Brandon Hamm. He was never officially in the band. He quit when we were practicing 'Saturday.' He goes, 'I don't like that. I don't want to do this anymore.' Pete talked with guitarist Chris Envy from Showoff, who had just broken up. Chris said, 'Yeah, I'll play in your band.' He came to two practices, then quit like two days before the tour. It was only a two-week tour, but Mike couldn't get the time off work from Best Buy, or maybe it was Blockbuster. We had to lose Mike, which was the hardest member change for me. It was unpleasant.

TROHMAN: We had been trying to get Andy to join the band for a while. Even back at that first Borders conversation, we talked about him, but he was too busy at the time.

STUMP: I borrowed one of Joe's guitars and jumped in the fire. We were in this legendarily shitty used van Pete had gotten. It belonged to some flower shop, so it had this ominously worn-out flower decal outside and no windows [except in the front]. Crappy brakes, no A/C, missing the rearview mirror, no seats in the back, only the driver's seat. About 10 minutes into the tour, we hit something. A tire exploded and slingshot into the passenger side mirror, sending glass flying into the van. We pulled over into some weird animal petting zoo. I remember thinking, 'This is a bad omen for this tour.' Spitalfield was awesome, and we became tight with them. Drew Brown, who was later in Weekend Nachos, was out with them, too. But most of the shows were canceled.

WENTZ: We'd end up in a town, and our show was canceled, or we'd have three days off. 'Let's just get on whatever show we can. Whatever, you can pay us in pizza.'

STUMP: We played in a pizza place. We basically blocked the line of people trying to order pizza, maybe a foot away from the shitty tables. Nobody is trying to watch a band. They're just there to eat pizza. And that was perhaps the biggest show we played on that tour. One of the best moments on the Spitalfied tour was in Lincoln, Nebraska. The local opener wasn't even there - they were at the bar across the street and showed up later with two people. Fall Out Boy played for Spitalfield, and Spitalfield played for Fall Out Boy. Even the sound guy had left. It was basically an empty room. It was miserable.

HURLEY: Even though we played a ton of shows in front of just the other bands, it was awesome. I've known Pete forever and always loved being in bands with him. After that tour, it was pretty much agreed that I would be in the band. I wanted to be in the band.

WENTZ: We would play literally any show in those days for free. We played Chain Reaction in Orange County with a bunch of metalcore bands. I want to say Underoath was one of them. I remember a lot of black shirts and crossed arms at those kinds of shows. STUMP: One thing that gets lost in the annals of history is Fall Out Boy, the discarded hardcore band. We played so many hardcore shows! The audiences were cool, but they were just like, 'This is OK, but we'd really rather be moshing right now.' Which was better than many of the receptions we got from pop-punk kids.

MOSTOFI: Pete made sure there was little division between the band and the audience. In hardcore, kids are encouraged to grab the mic. Pete was very conscious about making the crowd feel like friends. I saw them in Austin, Texas, in front of maybe ten kids. But it was very clear all ten of those kids felt like Pete's best friends. And they were, in a way.

MCILRITH: People started to get into social networking. That kind of thing was all new to us, and they were way ahead. They networked with their fans before any of us.

MOSTOFI: Pete shared a lot about his life online and was intimate as hell. It was a new type of scene. Pete extended the band's community as far as fiber optics let him.

ROSE: Pete was extremely driven. Looking back, I wish I had that killer instinct. During that tour; we played a show in Colorado. On the day of the show, we went to Kinko's to make flyers to hand out to college kids. Pete put ‘members of Saves The Day and Screeching Weasel’ on the flyer. He was just like, 'This will get people in.'

WENTZ: We booked a lot of our early shows through hardcore connections, and to some extent, that carries through to what Fall Out Boy shows are like today. If you come to see us play live, we're basically Slayer compared to everyone else when we play these pop radio shows. Some of that carries back to what you must do to avoid being heckled at hardcore shows. You may not like our music, but you will leave here respecting us. Not everyone is going to love you. Not everyone is going to give a shit. But you need to earn a crowd's respect. That was an important way for us to learn that.

MOSTOFI: All those dudes, except Andy, lived in this great apartment with our friend Brett Bunting, who was almost their drummer at one point. The proximity helped them gel.

STUMP: There were a lot of renegade last-minute shows where we'd just call and get added. We somehow ended up on a show with Head Automatica that way.

MCILRITH: At some point early on, they opened for Rise Against in a church basement in Downers Grove. We were doing well then; headlining that place was a big deal. Then Pete's band was coming up right behind us, and you could tell there was a lot of chatter about Fall Out Boy. I remember getting to the show, and there were many people there, many of whom I had never seen in the scene before. A lot of unfamiliar faces. A lot of people that wouldn't have normally found their way to the seedy Fireside Bowl in Chicago. These were young kids, and I was 21 then, so when I say young, I mean really young. Clearly, Fall Out Boy had tapped into something the rest of us had not. People were super excited to see them play and freaked out; there was a lot of enthusiasm at that show. After they finished, their fans bailed. They were dedicated. They wanted to see Fall Out Boy. They didn't necessarily want to see Rise Against play. That was my first clue that, 'Whoa, what Pete told me that day at Arma Angelus rehearsal is coming true. He was right.' Whatever he was doing was working.

"My Insides Are Copper, And I'd Like To Make Them Gold" - The Record Labels Come Calling, 2002

STUMP: The split EP was going to be a three-way split with 504 Plan, August Premier, and us at one point. But then the record just never happened. Brian backed out of putting it out. We asked him if we could do something else with the three songs and he didn't really seem to care. So, we started shopping the three songs as a demo. Pete ended up framing the rejection letters we got from a lot of pop-punk labels. But some were interested.

HURLEY: We wanted to be on Drive-Thru Records so bad. That was the label.

RICHARD REINES: After we started talking to them, I found the demo they had sent us in the office. I played it for my sister. We decided everything together. She liked them but wasn't as crazy about them as I was. We arranged with Pete to see them practice. We had started a new label called Rushmore. Fall Out Boy wasn't the best live band. We weren't thrilled [by the showcase]. But the songs were great. We both had to love a band to sign them, so my sister said, 'If you love them so much, let's sign them to Rushmore, not Drive Thru.'

HURLEY: We did a showcase for Richard and Stephanie Reines. They were just kind of like, 'Yeah, we have this side label thing. We'd be interested in having you on that.' I remember them saying they passed on Saves The Day and wished they would have put out Through Being Cool. But then they [basically] passed on us by offering to put us on Rushmore. We realized we could settle for that, but we knew it wasn't the right thing.

RORY FELTON: Kevin Knight had a website, TheScout, which always featured great new bands. I believe he shared the demo with us. I flew out to Chicago. Joe and Patrick picked me up at the airport. I saw them play at a VFW hall, Patrick drank an entire bottle of hot sauce on a dare at dinner, and then we all went to see the movie The Ring. I slept on the couch in their apartment, the one featured on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. Chad [Pearson], my partner, also flew out to meet with the band.

STUMP: It was a weird time to be a band because it was feast or famine. At first, no one wanted us. Then as soon as one label said, 'Maybe we'll give 'em a shot,' suddenly there's a frenzy of phone calls from record labels. We were getting our shirts printed by Victory Records. One day, we went to pick up shirts, and someone came downstairs and said, 'Um, guys? [Owner] Tony [Brummel] wants to see you.' We were like, 'Did we forget to pay an invoice?' He made us an offer on the spot. We said, 'That's awesome, but we need to think about it.' It was one of those 'now or never' kinds of things. I think we had even left the van running. It was that kind of sudden; we were overwhelmed by it.

HURLEY: They told me Tony said something like, 'You can be with the Nike of the record industry or the Keds of the record industry.'

STUMP: We'd get random calls at the apartment. 'Hey, I'm a manager with so-and-so.' I talked to some boy band manager who said, 'We think you'll be a good fit.'

TROHMAN: The idea of a manager was a ‘big-time' thing. I answered a call one day, and this guy is like, 'I'm the manager for the Butthole Surfers, and I'd really like to work with you guys.' I just said, Yeah, I really like the Butthole Surfers, but I'll have to call you back.' And I do love that band. But I just knew that wasn't the right thing.

STUMP: Not all the archetypes you always read about are true. The label guys aren't all out to get you. Some are total douchebags. But then there are a lot who are sweet and genuine. It's the same thing with managers. I really liked the Militia Group. They told us it was poor form to talk to us without a manager. They recommended Bob McLynn.

FELTON: We knew the guys at Crush from working with Acceptance and The Beautiful Mistake. We thought they'd be great for Fall Out Boy, so we sent the music to their team.

STUMP: They said Crush was their favorite management company and gave us their number. Crush's biggest band at the time was American Hi-Fi. Jonathan Daniels, the guy who started the company, sent a manager to see us. The guy was like, "This band sucks!' But Jonathan liked us and thought someone should do something with us. Bob was his youngest rookie manager. He had never managed anyone, and we had never been managed.

BOB MCLYNN: Someone else from my office who isn't with us anymore had seen them, but I hadn't seen them yet. At the time, we'd tried to manage Brand New; they went elsewhere, and I was bummed. Then we got the Fall Out Boy demo, and I was like, Wow. This sounds even better. This guy can really sing, and these songs are great.' I remember going at it hard after that whole thing. Fall Out Boy was my consolation prize. I don't know if they were talking to other managers or not, but Pete and I clicked.

TROHMAN: In addition to being really creative, Pete is really business savvy. We all have a bullshit detector these days, but Pete already had one back then. We met Bob, and we felt like this dude wouldn't fuck us over.

STUMP: We were the misfit toy that nobody else wanted. Bob really believed in us when nobody else did and when nobody believed in him. What's funny is that all the other managers at Crush were gone within a year. It was just Bob and Jonathan, and now they're partners. Bob was the weird New York Hardcore guy who scared me at the time.

TROHMAN: We felt safe with him. He's a big, hulking dude.

MCLYNN: We tried to make a deal with The Militia Group, but they wouldn't back off on a few things in the agreement. I told them those were deal breakers, opening the door to everyone else. I knew this band needed a shot to do bigger and better things.

TROHMAN: He told us not to sign with the label that recommended him to us. We thought there was something very honest about that.

MCLYNN: They paid all their dues. Those guys worked harder than any band I'd ever seen, and I was all about it. I had been in bands before and had just gotten out. I was getting out of the van just as these guys got into one. They busted their asses.

STUMP: A few labels basically said the same thing: they wanted to hear more. They weren't convinced we could write another song as good as 'Dead On Arrival.' I took that as a challenge. We returned to Sean a few months after those initial three songs, this time at Gravity Studios in Chicago. We recorded ‘Grenade Jumper' and 'Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy' in a night or two. 'Where is Your Boy' was my, 'Fine, you don't think I can write a fucking song? Here's your hit song, jerks!' But I must have pushed Pete pretty hard [arguing about the songs]. One night, as he and I drove with Joe, Pete said, 'Guys, I don't think I want to do this band anymore.' We talked about it for the rest of the ride home. I didn't want to be in the band in the first place! I was like, 'No! That's not fair! Don't leave me with this band! Don't make me kind of like this band, and then leave it! That's bullshit!' Pete didn't stay at the apartment that night. I called him at his parent's house. I told him I wasn't going to do the band without him. He was like, 'Don't break up your band over it.' I said, 'It's not my band. It's a band that you, Joe, and I started.' He was like, 'OK, I'll stick around.' And he came back with a vengeance.

WENTZ: It was maybe the first time we realized we could do these songs titles that didn't have much do with the song from the outside. Grand Theft Auto was such a big pop culture franchise. If you said the phrase back then, everyone recognized it. The play on words was about someone stealing your time in the fall. It was the earliest experimentation with that so it was a little simplistic compared to the stuff we did later. At the time, we'd tell someone the song title, and they'd say, 'You mean "Auto"'?

JOHN JANICK: I saw their name on fliers and thought it was strange. But I remembered it. Then I saw them on a flyer with one of our bands from Chicago, August Premier. I called them and asked about this band whose name I had seen on a few flyers now. They told me they were good and I should check it out. I heard an early version of a song online and instantly fell in love with it. Drive-Thru, The Militia Group, and a few majors tried to sign them. I was the odd man out. But I knew I wanted them right away.

HURLEY: Fueled By Ramen was co-owned by Vinnie [Fiorello] from Less Than Jake. It wasn't necessarily a band I grew up loving, but I had so much respect for them and what they had done and were doing.

JANICK: I randomly cold-called them at the apartment and spoke to Patrick. He told me I had to talk to Pete. I spoke to Pete later that day. We ended up talking on the phone for an hour. It was crazy. I never flew out there. I just got to know them over the phone.

MCLYNN: There were majors [interested], but I didn't want the band on a major right away. I knew they wouldn't understand the band. Rob Stevenson from Island Records knew all the indie labels were trying to sign Fall Out Boy. We did this first-ever incubator sort of deal. I also didn't want to stay on an indie forever; I felt we needed to develop and have a chance to do bigger and better things, but these indies didn't necessarily have radio staff. It was sort of the perfect scenario. Island gave us money to go on Fueled By Ramen, with whom we did a one-off. No one else would offer a one-off on an indie.

STUMP: They were the smallest of the labels involved, with the least 'gloss.' I said, 'I don't know about this, Pete.' Pete was the one who thought it was the smartest move. He pointed out that we could be a big fish in a small pond. So, we rolled the dice.

HURLEY: It was a one-record deal with Fueled By Ramen. We didn't necessarily get signed to Island, but they had the 'right of first refusal' [for the album following Take This To Your Grave]. It was an awesome deal. It was kind of unheard of, maybe, but there was a bunch of money coming from Island that we didn't have to recoup for promo type of things.

JANICK: The company was so focused on making sure we broke Fall Out Boy; any other label probably wouldn't have had that dedication. Pete and I talked for at least an hour every day. Pete and I became so close, so much so that we started Decaydance. It was his thing, but we ended up signing Panic! At The Disco, Gym Class Heroes, Cobra Starship.

GUTIERREZ: Who could predict Pete would A&R all those bands? There's no Panic! At The Disco or Gym Class Heroes without Wentz. He made them into celebrities.

"Turn This Up And I'll Tune You Out" - The Making of Take This To You Grave, 2003

The versions of "Dead on Arrival," "Saturday," and "Homesick at Space Camp" from the first sessions with Andy on drums are what appear on the album. "Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy" and "Grenade Jumper" are the demo versions recorded later in Chicago. O'Keefe recorded the music for the rest of the songs at Smart Studios once again. They knocked out the remaining songs in just nine days. Sean and Patrick snuck into Gravity Studios in the middle of the night to track vocals in the dead of winter. Patrick sang those seven songs from two to five in the morning in those sessions.

STUMP: John Janick basically said, ‘I'll buy those five songs and we'll make them part of the album, and here's some money to go record seven more.'

MCLYNN: It was a true indie deal with Fueled by Ramen. I think we got between $15,000 and $18,000 all-in to make the album. The band slept on the studio floor some nights.

STUMP: From a recording standpoint, it was amazing. It was very pro, we had Sean, all this gear, the fun studio accoutrements were there. It was competitive with anything we did afterward. But meanwhile, we're still four broke idiots.

WENTZ: We fibbed to our parents about what we were doing. I was supposed to be in school. I didn't have access to money or a credit card. I don't think any of us did.

STUMP: I don't think we slept anywhere we could shower, which was horrifying. There was a girl that Andy's girlfriend at the time went to school with who let us sleep on her floor, but we'd be there for maybe four hours at a time. It was crazy.

HURLEY: Once, Patrick thought it would be a good idea to spray this citrus bathroom spray under his arms like deodorant. It just destroyed him because it's not made for that. But it was all an awesome adventure.

WENTZ: We were so green we didn't really know how studios worked. Every day there was soda for the band. We asked, 'Could you take that soda money and buy us peanut butter, jelly, and bread?' which they did. I hear that stuff in some ways when I listen to that album.

HURLEY: Sean pushed us. He was such a perfectionist, which was awesome. I felt like, ‘This is what a real professional band does.' It was our first real studio experience.

WENTZ: Seeing the Nirvana Nevermind plaque on the wall was mind-blowing. They showed us the mic that had been used on that album.

HURLEY: The mic that Kurt Cobain used, that was pretty awesome, crazy, legendary, and cool. But we didn't get to use it.

WENTZ: They said only Shirley Manson] from Garbage could use it.

O'KEEFE: Those dudes were all straight edge at the time. It came up in conversation that I had smoked weed once a few months before. That started this joke that I was this huge stoner, which obviously I wasn't. They'd call me 'Scoobie Snacks O'Keefe' and all these things. When they turned in the art for the record, they thanked me with like ten different stoner nicknames - 'Dimebag O'Keefe' and stuff like that. The record company made Pete take like seven of them out because they said it was excessively ridiculous.

WENTZ: Sean was very helpful. He worked within the budget and took us more seriously than anyone else other than Patrick. There were no cameras around. There was no documentation. There was nothing to indicate this would be some ‘legendary' session. There are 12 songs on the album because those were all the songs we had. There was no pomp or circumstance or anything to suggest it would be an 'important’ record.

STUMP: Pete and I were starting to carve out our niches. When Pete [re-committed himself to the band], it felt like he had a list of things in his head he wanted to do right. Lyrics were on that list. He wasn't playing around anymore. I wrote the majority of the lyrics up to that point - ‘Saturday,' 'Dead on Arrival,' ‘Where's Your Boy?,’ ‘Grenade Jumper,' and ‘Homesick at Space Camp.' I was an artsy-fartsy dude who didn't want to be in a pop-punk band, so I was going really easy on the lyrics. I wasn't taking them seriously. When I look back on it, I did write some alright stuff. But I wasn't trying. Pete doesn't fuck around like that, and he does not take that kindly. When we returned to the studio, he started picking apart every word, every syllable. He started giving me [notes]. I got so exasperated at one point I was like, ‘You just write the fucking lyrics, dude. Just give me your lyrics, and I'll write around them.' Kind of angrily. So, he did. We hadn't quite figured out how to do it, though. I would write a song, scrap my lyrics, and try to fit his into where mine had been. It was exhausting. It was a rough process. It made both of us unhappy.

MCLYNN: I came from the post-hardcore scene in New York and wasn't a big fan of the pop-punk stuff happening. What struck me with these guys was the phenomenal lyrics and Patrick's insane voice. Many guys in these kinds of bands can sing alright, but Patrick was like a real singer. This guy had soul. He'd take these great lyrics Pete wrote and combine it with that soul, and that's what made their unique sound. They both put their hearts on their sleeves when they wrote together.

STUMP: We had a massive fight over 'Chicago is So Two Years Ago.' I didn't even want to record that song. I was being precious with things that were mine. Part of me thought the band wouldn't work out, and I'd go to college and do some music alone. I had a skeletal version of 'Chicago...'. I was playing it to myself in the lobby of the studio. I didn't know anyone was listening. Sean was walking by and wanted to [introduce it to the others]. I kind of lost my song. I was very precious about it. Pete didn't like some of the lyrics, so we fought. We argued over each word, one at a time. 'Tell That Mick...' was also a pretty big fight. Pete ended up throwing out all my words on that one. That was the first song where he wrote the entire set of lyrics. My only change was light that smoke' instead of ‘cigarette' because I didn't have enough syllables to say 'cigarette.' Everything else was verbatim what he handed to me. I realized I must really want to be in this band at this point if I'm willing to put up with this much fuss. The sound was always more important to me - the rhythm of the words, alliteration, syncopation - was all very exciting. Pete didn't care about any of that. He was all meaning. He didn't care how good the words sounded if they weren't amazing when you read them. Man, did we fight about that. We fought for nine days straight while not sleeping and smelling like shit. It was one long argument, but I think some of the best moments resulted from that.

WENTZ: In 'Calm Before the Storm,' Patrick wrote the line, 'There's a song on the radio that says, 'Let's Get This Party Started' which is a direct reference to Pink's 2001 song 'Get the Party Started.' 'Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today' is a line from the movie Rushmore. I thought we'd catch a little more flack for that, but even when we played it in Ireland, there was none of that. It's embraced, more like a shoutout.

STUMP: Pete and I met up on a lot of the same pop culture. He was more into '80s stuff than I was. One of the first things we talked about were Wes Anderson movies.

WENTZ: Another thing driving that song title was the knowledge that our fanbase wouldn't necessarily be familiar with Wes Anderson. It could be something that not only inspired us but something fans could also go check out. People don't ask us about that song so much now, but in that era, we'd answer and tell them to go watch Rushmore. You gotta see this movie. This line is a hilarious part of it.' Hopefully some people did. I encountered Jason Schwartzman at a party once. We didn't get to talk about the movie, but he was the sweetest human, and I was just geeking out. He told me he was writing a film with Wes Anderson about a train trip in India. I wanted to know about the writing process. He was like, 'Well, he's in New York City, I'm in LA. It's crazy because I'm on the phone all the time and my ear gets really hot.' That's the anecdote I got, and I loved it.

O'KEEFE: They're totally different people who approach making music from entirely different angles. It's cool to see them work. Pete would want a certain lyric. Patrick was focused on the phrasing. Pete would say the words were stupid and hand Patrick a revision, and Patrick would say I can't sing those the way I need to sing this. They would go through ten revisions for one song. I thought I would lose my mind with both of them, but then they would find it, and it would be fantastic. When they work together, it lights up. It takes on a life of its own. It's not always happy. There's a lot of push and pull, and each is trying to get their thing. With Take This To Your Grave, we never let anything go until all three of us were happy. Those guys were made to do this together.

WENTZ: A lot of the little things weren't a big deal, but those were things that [felt like] major decisions. I didn't want 'Where Is Your Boy' on Take This To Your Grave.

JANICK: I freaked out. I called Bob and said, 'We must put this song on the album! It's one of the biggest songs.' He agreed. We called Pete and talked about it; he was cool about it and heard us out.

WENTZ: I thought many things were humongous, and they just weren't. They didn't matter one way or another.

"Our Lawyer Made Us Change The (Album Cover)" - That Photo On Take This To Your Grave, 2003

STUMP: The band was rooted in nostalgia from early on. The '80s references were very much Pete's aesthetic. He had an idea for the cover. It ended up being his girlfriend at the time, face down on the bed, exhausted, in his bedroom. That was his bedroom in our apartment. His room was full of toys, '80s cereals. If we ended up with the Abbey Road cover of pop-punk, that original one was Sgt. Pepper's. But we couldn't legally clear any of the stuff in the photo. Darth Vader, Count Chocula…

WENTZ: There's a bunch of junk in there: a Morrissey poster, I think a Cher poster, Edward Scissorhands. We submitted it to Fueled by Ramen, and they were like, 'We can't clear any of this stuff.’ The original album cover did eventually come out on the vinyl version.

STUMP: The photo that ended up being the cover was simply a promo photo for that album cycle. We had to scramble. I was pushing the Blue Note jazz records feel. That's why the CD looks a bit like vinyl and why our names are listed on the front. I wanted a live photo on the cover. Pete liked the Blue Note idea but didn't like the live photo idea. I also made the fateful decision to have my name listed as 'Stump' rather than Stumph.

WENTZ: What we used was initially supposed to be the back cover. I remember someone in the band being pissed about it forever. Not everyone was into having our names on the cover. It was a strange thing to do at the time. But had the original cover been used, it wouldn't have been as iconic as what we ended up with. It wouldn't have been a conversation piece. That stupid futon in our house was busted in the middle. We're sitting close to each other because the futon was broken. The exposed brick wall was because it was the worst apartment ever. It makes me wonder: How many of these are accidental moments? At the time, there was nothing iconic about it. If we had a bigger budget, we probably would have ended up with a goofier cover that no one would have cared about.

STUMP: One of the things I liked about the cover was that it went along with something Pete had always said. I'm sure people will find this ironic, but Pete had always wanted to create a culture with the band where it was about all four guys and not just one guy. He had the foresight to even think about things like that. I didn't think anyone would give a fuck about our band! At the time, it was The Pete Wentz Band to most people. With that album cover, he was trying to reject that and [demonstrate] that all four of us mattered. A lot of people still don't get that, but whatever. I liked that element of the cover. It felt like a team. It felt like Voltron. It wasn't what I like to call 'the flying V photo' where the singer is squarely in the center, the most important, and everyone else is nearest the camera in order of 'importance.' The drummer would be in the very back. Maybe the DJ guy who scratches records was behind the drummer.

"You Need Him. I Could Be Him. Where Is Your Boy Tonight?" - The Dynamics of Punk Pop's Fab 4, 2003

Patrick seemed like something of the anti-frontman, never hogging the spotlight and often shrinking underneath his baseball hat. Wentz was more talkative, more out front on stage and in interviews, in a way that felt unprecedented for a bass player who wasn't also singing. In some ways, Fall Out Boy operated as a two-headed dictatorship. Wentz and Stump are in the car's front seat while Joe and Andy ride in the back.

STUMP: There is a lot of truth to that. Somebody must be in the front seat, no question. But the analogy doesn't really work for us; were more like a Swiss Army knife. You've got all these different attachments, but they are all part of the same thing. When you need one specific tool, the rest go back into the handle. That was how the band functioned and still does in many ways. Pete didn't want anyone to get screwed. Some things we've done might not have been the best business decision but were the right human decision. That was very much Pete's thing. I was 19 and very reactionary. If someone pissed me off, I'd be like, 'Screw them forever!' But Pete was very tactful. He was the business guy. Joe was active on the internet. He wouldn't stop believing in this band. He was the promotions guy. Andy was an honest instrumentalist: ‘I'm a drummer, and I'm going to be the best fucking drummer I can be.' He is very disciplined. None of us were that way aside from him. I was the dictator in the studio. I didn't know what producing was at the time or how it worked, but in retrospect, I've produced a lot of records because I'm an asshole in the studio. I'm a nice guy, but I'm not the nicest guy in the studio. It's a lot easier to know what you don't want. We carved out those roles early. We were very dependent on each other.

MCLYNN: I remember sitting in Japan with those guys. None of them were drinking then, but I was drinking plenty. It was happening there, their first time over, and all the shows were sold out. I remember looking at Pete and Patrick and telling Pete, ‘You're the luckiest guy in the world because you found this guy.' Patrick laughed. Then I turned to Patrick and said the same thing to him. Because really, they're yin and yang. They fit together so perfectly. The fact that Patrick found this guy with this vision, Pete had everything for the band laid out in his mind. Patrick, how he can sing, and what he did with Pete's lyrics - no one else could have done that. We tried it, even with the Black Cards project in 2010. We'd find these vocalists. Pete would write lyrics, and they'd try to form them into songs, but they just couldn't do it the way Patrick could. Pete has notebooks full of stuff that Patrick turns into songs. Not only can he sing like that, but how he turns those into songs is an art unto itself. It's really the combination of those two guys that make Fall Out Boy what it is. They're fortunate they found each other.

"I Could Walk This Fine Line Between Elation And Success. We All Know Which Way I'm Going To Strike The Stake Between My Chest" - Fall Out Boy Hits the Mainstream, 2003

Released on May 6, 2003, Take This To Your Grave massively connected with fans. (Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend arrived in stores less than two months earlier.) While Take This To Your Grave didn't crack the Billboard 200 upon its release, it eventually spent 30 weeks on the charts. From Under the Cork Tree debuted in the Top 10 just two years later, largely on Grave's momentum. 2007's Infinity on High bowed at #1.

WENTZ: I remember noticing it was getting insane when we would do in-stores. We'd still play anywhere. That was our deal. We liked being able to sell our stuff in the stores, too. It would turn into a riot. We played a Hollister at the mall in Schaumburg, Illinois. A lot of these stores were pretty corporate with a lot of rules, but Hollister would let us rip. Our merch guy was wearing board shorts, took this surfboard off the wall, and started crowd-surfing with it during the last song. I remember thinking things had gotten insane right at that moment.

HURLEY: When we toured with Less Than Jake, there were these samplers with two of their songs and two of ours. Giving those out was a surreal moment. To have real promotion for a record... It wasn't just an ad in a 'zine or something. It was awesome.

MCLYNN: They toured with The Reunion Show, Knockout, and Punch-line. One of their first big tours as an opening act was with MEST. There would be sold-out shows with 1,000 kids, and they would be singing along to Fall Out Boy much louder than to MEST. It was like, 'What's going on here?' It was the same deal with Less Than Jake. It really started catching fire months into the album being out. You just knew something was happening. As a headliner, they went from 500-capacity clubs to 1500 - 2000 capacity venues.

WENTZ: We always wanted to play The Metro in Chicago. It got awkward when they started asking us to play after this band or that band. There were bands we grew up with that were now smaller than us. Headlining The Metro was just wild. My parents came.

MCLYNN: There was a week on Warped Tour, and there was some beel because these guys were up-and-comers, and some of the bands that were a little more established weren't too happy. They were getting a little shit on Warped Tour that week, sort of their initiation. They were on this little, shitty stage. So many kids showed up to watch them in Detroit, and the kids rushed the stage, and it collapsed. The PA failed after like three songs. They finished with an acapella, 'Where is Your Boy,’ and the whole crowd sang along.

WENTZ: That's when every show started ending in a riot because it couldn't be contained. We ended up getting banned from a lot of venues because the entire crowd would end up onstage. It was pure energy. We'd be billed on tour as the opening band, and the promoter would tell us we had to close the show or else everyone would leave after we played. We were a good band to have that happen to because there wasn't any ego. We were just like, "Oh, that's weird.' It was just bizarre. When my parents saw it was this wid thing, they said, 'OK, yeah, maybe take a year off from college.' That year is still going on.

MCLYNN: That Warped Tour was when the band's first big magazine cover, by far, hit the stands. I give a lot of credit to Norman Wonderly and Mike Shea at Alternative Press. They saw what was happening with Fall Out Boy and were like, 'We know it's early with you guys, but we want to give you a cover.' It was the biggest thing to happen to any of us. It really helped kick it to another level. It helped stoke the fires that were burning. This is back when bands like Green Day, Blink-182, and No Doubt still sold millions of records left and right. It was a leap of faith for AP to step out on Fall Out Boy the way they did.

STUMP: That was our first big cover. It was crazy. My parents flipped out. That wasn't a small zine. It was a magazine my mom could find in a bookstore and tell her friends. It was a shocking time. It's still like that. Once the surrealism starts, it never ends. I was onstage with Taylor Swift ten years later. That statement just sounds insane. It's fucking crazy. But when I was onstage, I just fell into it. I wasn't thinking about how crazy it was until afterward. It was the same thing with the AP cover. We were so busy that it was just another one of those things we were doing that day. When we left, I was like, 'Holy fuck! We're on the cover of a magazine! One that I read! I have a subscription to that!'

HURLEY: Getting an 'In The Studio' blurb was a big deal. I remember seeing bands 'in the studio' and thinking, Man, I would love to be in that and have people care that we're in the studio.' There were more minor things, but that was our first big cover.

STUMP: One thing I remember about the photo shoot is I was asked to take off my hat. I was forced to take it off and had been wearing that hat for a while. I never wanted to be the lead singer. I always hoped to be a second guitarist with a backup singer role. I lobbied to find someone else to be the proper singer. But here I was, being the lead singer, and I fucking hated it. When I was a drummer, I was always behind something. Somehow the hat thing started. Pete gave me a hat instead of throwing it away - I think it's the one I'm wearing on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. It became like my Linus blanket. I had my hat, and I could permanently hide. You couldn't see my eyes or much of me, and I was very comfortable that way. The AP cover shoot was the first time someone asked me to remove it. My mom has a poster of that cover in her house, and every time I see it, I see the fear on my face - just trying to maintain composure while filled with terror and insecurity. ‘Why is there a camera on me?'

JANICK: We pounded the pavement every week for two years. We believed early on that something great was going to happen. As we moved to 100,000 and 200,000 albums, there were points where everything was tipping. When they were on the cover of Alternative Press. When they did Warped for five days, and the stage collapsed. We went into Christmas with the band selling 2000 to 3000 a week and in the listening stations at Hot Topic. Fueled By Ramen had never had anything like that before.

MOSTOFI: Pete and I used to joke that if he weren't straight edge, he would have likely been sent to prison or worse at some point before Fall Out Boy. Pete has a predisposition to addictive behavior and chemical dependency. This is something we talked about a lot back in the day. Straight Edge helped him avoid some of the traps of adolescence.

WENTZ: I was straight edge at the time. I don't think our band would have been so successful without that. The bands we were touring with were partying like crazy. Straight Edge helped solidify the relationship between the four of us. We were playing for the love of music, not for partying or girls or stuff like that. We liked being little maniacs running around. Hurley and I were kind of the younger brothers of the hardcore kids we were in bands with. This was an attempt to get out of that shadow a little bit. Nobody is going to compare this band to Racetraitor. You know when you don't want to do exactly what your dad or older brother does? There was a little bit of that.

"Take This To Your Grave, And I'll Take It To Mine" - The Legacy of Take This To Your Grave, 2003-2023

Take This To Your Grave represents a time before the paparazzi followed Wentz to Starbucks, before marriages and children, Disney soundtracks, and all the highs and lows of an illustrious career. The album altered the course for everyone involved with its creation. Crush Music added Miley Cyrus, Green Day, and Weezer to their roster. Fueled By Ramen signed Twenty One Pilots, Paramore, A Day To Remember, and All Time Low.

STUMP: I'm so proud of Take This To Your Grave. I had no idea how much people were going to react to it. I didn't know Fall Out Boy was that good of a band. We were this shitty post-hardcore band that decided to do a bunch of pop-punk before I went to college, and Pete went back to opening for Hatebreed. That was the plan. Somehow this record happened. To explain to people now how beautiful and accidental that record was is difficult. It seems like it had to have been planned, but no, we were that shitty band that opened for 25 Ta Life.

HURLEY: We wanted to make a record as perfect as Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. A front-to-back perfect collection of songs. That was our obsession with Take This To Your Grave. We were just trying to make a record that could be compared in any way to that record. There's just something special about when the four of us came together.

WENTZ: It blows my mind when I hear people talking about Take This To Your Grave or see people including it on lists because it was just this tiny personal thing. It was very barebones. That was all we had, and we gave everything we had to it. Maybe that's how these big iconic bands feel about those records, too. Perhaps that's how James Hetfield feels when we talk about Kill 'Em All. That album was probably the last moment many people had of having us as their band that their little brother didn't know about. I have those feelings about certain bands, too. 'This band was mine. That was the last time I could talk about them at school without anyone knowing who the fuck I was talking about.' That was the case with Take This To Your Grave.

TROHMAN: Before Save Rock N' Roll, there was a rumor that we would come back with one new song and then do a Take This To Your Grave tenth-anniversary tour. But we weren't going to do what people thought we would do. We weren't going to [wear out] our old material by just returning from the hiatus with a Take This To Your Grave tour.

WENTZ: We've been asked why we haven't done a Take This To Your Grave tour. In some ways, it's more respectful not to do that. It would feel like we were taking advantage of where that record sits, what it means to people and us.

HURLEY: When Metallica released Death Magnetic, I loved the record, but I feel like Load and Reload were better in a way, because you knew that's what they wanted to do.

TROHMAN: Some people want us to make Grave again, but I'm not 17. It would be hard to do something like that without it being contrived. Were proud of those songs. We know that’s where we came from. We know the album is an important part of our history.

STUMP: There's always going to be a Take This To Your Grave purist fan who wants that forever: But no matter what we do, we cannot give you 2003. It'll never happen again. I know the feeling, because I've lived it with my favorite bands, too. But there's a whole other chunk of our fans who have grown with us and followed this journey we're on. We were this happy accident that somehow came together. It’s tempting to plagarize yourself. But it’s way more satisfying and exciting to surprise yourself.

MCILRITH: Fall Out Boy is an important band for so many reasons. I know people don't expect the singer of Rise Against to say that, but they really are. If nothing else, they created so much dialog and conversation within not just a scene but an international scene. They were smart. They got accused of being this kiddie pop punk band, but they did smart things with their success. I say that, especially as a guy who grew up playing in the same Chicago hardcore bands that would go on and confront be-ing a part of mainstream music. Mainstream music and the mainstream world are machines that can chew your band up if you don't have your head on straight when you get into it. It's a fast-moving river, and you need to know what direction you're going in before you get into it. If you don't and you hesitate, it'll take you for a ride. Knowing those guys, they went into it with a really good idea. That's something that the hardcore instilled in all of us. Knowing where you stand on those things, we cut our teeth on the hardcore scene, and it made us ready for anything that the world could throw at us, including the giant music industry.

[vidavalor]

*dings the bell* … I’m back.

My Ukrainian friend made potato salad! It has cucumbers, carrots, onion, & canned green peas in it, and it’s absolutely delicious!

Sooo… can I ask what moment/scene you found the most devastating so far? I guess The KissTM is the most popular but I wonder if you’ve spotted something even more heartbreaking?

Hi @procrastiel Much love to you and your Ukrainian friend & please thank her again for me for the recipe as we made it and it was delicious. 💕Hope she's doing well. The KissTM is pretty heartbreaking for sure but I had a couple of moments that I found at least equally as heartbreaking...

The blues below the cut. TW: Depression.

What really got me in S2, in terms of heartbreaking stuff, was the focus on the less "showier" kinds of depression in Aziraphale and Gabriel. I'm not dismissing the amazing Crowley story the show has been telling but it tends to be more overt. The story focusing on depression lingering beneath different types of exteriors-- those who project themselves as being upbeat and/or fine-- was really well-executed and it had moments as devastating to me as the kiss.

The "but that's for professional conjurers only" scene and, in particular, the choices made in Aziraphale's response to Crowley's "my Nefertiti-fooling fellow" response is probably my favorite bit of acting in the series entirely to date. Michael Sheen broke me into little pieces with the way he conveyed a lifetime of pain, depression, anxiety and sleepless nights in Aziraphale's eyes on the "professional conjurers" bit and the smile...

...I love how you literally watch the pain of it all melt off his face at Crowley gently reassuring him and the smile that starts and then becomes just a beam of love he can't keep off his face. It's gorgeous.

It's actually what makes The Final 15 hurt even more, really, I think-- because you know that this is what Aziraphale needed. It's the same core set of problems but he needed 1941!Crowley and he got AlphaCentuari!Crowley because of where they both were at in the moment. It just makes 2.06 even more brutal because it shows you how they do understand each other and how right they are for each other if they could just stop being idiots lol.

I also actually think this is one of the most intimate scenes in the show. It shows a lot of guts on Aziraphale's part to be honest about how he's feeling and that's courage that Aziraphale has in general but was lacking a bit in the present in S2. He lets Crowley in here-- which is the theme of all of it and what he's not doing in S2 very much, especially in 2.06-- and we get a scene where Aziraphale is vulnerable and hurting and trusts Crowley with it and Crowley is there to help him as much as Aziraphale helps Crowley. It's very sweet and romantic but in a heartbreaking way because of how it shows how much pain Aziraphale is carrying around with him all the time. The lovely bit, though, is how it also shows how Crowley knows and is trusted with it. That it all takes place in largely the same space as the mess in 2.06? Gah. Devastating...

The other storyline that broke me was Gabriel. I know not everyone has the empathy for him that I do and he can be a total jerk, no doubt, but I thought he was the best example of the show bringing in other perspectives on life in Heaven/Hell in S2. We had angles like Furfur and Muriel illustrating that life for those not on Earth is lonely, isolating and boring and that many are yearning to live a bit more. Crowley and Aziraphale have not had it easy by any means but we are given characters whose perspective is that they're jealous that Crowley and Aziraphale have at least been able to be on Earth and have one another this whole time, which is more than a lot of other angels and demons can say, and that's fair. Expanding upon the glimpses of Gabriel that we saw in S1 and showing that, really, he's more complicated than we might have expected, was something I both loved and was a bit broken by.

Essentially, S2 shows that Gabriel is actually arguably the worst off character of all of them-- Crowley and Aziraphale included. That he really had no one until Beez is shown on his face so well-- Jon Hamm and Shelley Conn selling Gabriel's depression and how healthy this relationship is in almost no time at all really shows how great they both are. Look at this poor bastard, though, really...

He has the worst job of all of them. The Metatron is really in charge of Heaven-- Gabriel's the pretty face, forced to keep everything going or be killed for disobeying. S2 emphasizes how much he and Beez did what they did at the end of S1 basically at gunpoint-- it was kill or be killed and neither of them have the power to overthrow anything on their own. They have enough power, in the future, to probably help sway some things. Gabriel's always had enough power to make differences where he could and he used it to try to protect people. He can be a judgy jerk but he also fundamentally cares about the people around him and he's been drilled for so long into believing that upholding Heaven is his only purpose and only reason for existence that he's even still mulling over the ghosts of those thoughts when he has his whole gravity crisis in S2, even when he can't remember his name.

This is the bit that got me actually teary, though:

Imagine being thousands of years old and no one's ever given you a present. You don't have a birthday. You don't celebrate holidays. No one's ever protected you or been on your side or even just listened. You don't have any friends because everyone is afraid of you and you have to put up those pretensions to stay alive. The people you spend your entire life with are out for blood-- they'd sooner see you stripped of your sense of self and tossed through the ranks or to Hell and take your seat. Your life is one, long, never-ending meeting with your abusive dad and charming personalities like Michael and Uriel and Sandalphon. For six. thousand. years. Gabriel had never eaten anything before S2. He's never slept. Imagine six thousand years of being the Senior VP of Climb Every Bullshit Mountain without ever having a lunch break or ever going home. It's kind of no wonder that Gabriel spent half of S2 taking a nap-- he's exhausted.

He's not from anywhere. He doesn't even have a desk. Is it any wonder that this poor bastard was already rebelling a bit in S1? That he didn't totally get Earth but he was sneaking down there to get tailored suits made just so he could have something that is his own and taking himself for jogs in the park so he could get away from everyone for awhile? He's vain, sure, yes, but really because his looks are all he has that actually belong to him. It's why Beez gives him a pass on the statue-- because they know that this poor guy doesn't have anybody but them. The humans immortalize him in marble like he's a God and everyone in Heaven and Hell is terrified of him-- and he's been terrified of trying to be real with others because who is he going to trust who won't stab him in the back?

All Gabriel has that is his own are his clothes and Heaven even takes that, too. Beez is the first person who has ever seen Gabriel as a person. Is it any wonder why Gabriel likes and goes to Aziraphale for help? He knows that Aziraphale is the only angel who is both kind and sorta sees him there sometimes. He's the only one who ever seems to consider that Gabriel might exist in there as more than just The Supreme Archangel.

Gabriel's memory loss is actually very much akin to the real world occurrence of retrograde amnesia, which can and does actually happen to people who have undergone traumatic events. (It doesn't happen all the time but it's also not as rare as you'd think it might be.) The mind shuts down in such a way as to intentionally forget everything related to the trauma in order to protect itself and that can sometimes result in a loss of identity. The forgetting, though, also frees Gabriel because when he can no longer recall the fascist system of Heaven that has been harming him for so long, the actual self that he's been repressing and hiding shows up.

I see a lot of people talk about Jim as if he's a separate entity from Gabriel and he's really not-- he's Gabriel without the self-protective airs that Gabriel puts on. Jim is really not much different from glasses-free Crowley-- they have the same approach to self-preservation. It turns out, when he's free from the toxic masculinity hellscape that is Heaven, Gabriel likes hot chocolate and tiny dinners and bookselling and is emotionally available and mindfully curious about everything. He's a lot of fun and he cares about his friends and is grateful to have them. He's still a snarky bitch sometimes but so is Crowley lol so... That Gabriel was so miserable before, though, I thought was really pretty heartbreaking.

Now that I've depressed you, we'll leave on the sweeter note of Gabriel torturing some humans to romance Beez...

[daisynik7]

“Meet Me Halfway” by Black Eyed Peas - fluff for Jean Kirstein please i BEG i love this song so bad

Meet Me Halfway

Can you meet me halfway? Right at the borderline is where I’m gonna wait for you.

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x reader (gn)

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: red string of fate/soulmates trope, canon universe, canon divergent, spoilers up to Season 4, fluff

Summary: Jean’s red string of fate was loose ever since he was born. It seems like everyone but himself has found their soulmate here on Paradis. It’s only when the scouts finally head towards the sea that his string becomes a little less slack. Could it be that his fated partner is on the other side in Marley, behind enemy lines?

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! I’ve been fascinated by the red string of fate/soulmates trope for a while now, so I wanted to try my hand at it here! This is just a little taste of this, maybe I’ll expand on this story in the future. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/saradika.

The first time they ever see the ocean, they’re speechless, neither of them speaking to one another, taking in the breathtaking view. Cerulean blue shimmers throughout the entire expanse, nearly a mirror image of the clear sky above. It took them a few days to get here and Jean was beginning to doubt just how great this thing called “the sea” could be. He never expected anything like this, though. As if the picturesque scene before him isn’t enough to get his heart racing, for the first time in his entire sixteen years of living, the red string tied around his wrist, only for him to see and feel, finally tightened just the slightest. 

The lore behind the red string of fate is no secret among those living in Paradis. Each child is born with it cinched around their wrist; the other end supposedly tied to their soulmate. Jean’s has been slack since he can remember. That is, until now. While it isn’t as taut as some of his other friends, like Mikasa with Eren and now Armin with Annie, only he can tell the difference. It’s been a running joke since they found out the truth about the other side. Connie teases him and Sasha about it constantly. “Maybe your soulmates are in Marley? How does it feel to be bounded to our enemy?”

Sasha, like Jean, has never felt any differences in her rope throughout her lifetime. He turns to face her, pointing to his wrist, curious if she feels the same. Her jaw is dropped, and when she notices him signaling to her, she closes it, gulping loudly, slowly nodding. 

When they all dismount their horses to explore the water, Jean momentarily forgets about it, focusing only on how cold the ocean feels on his feet, how salty is tastes on his tongue, how incredibly far it reaches, surely farther than his eyes can see. It’s only after their skin starts to wrinkle that they retreat, sitting on the warm sand instead, watching the waves crash onto the shore. He nudges Sasha. “So, you felt it too, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” she answers, hesitant. She caresses her wrist in her other hand, biting her lip.

Connie butts in. “Felt what?”

“Our strings. They’re a little less loose now that we’re here.”

He smirks. “I told you! Your soulmates are on the other side!”

Jean leans back against his hands, groaning. “I don’t want my soulmate to be on the other side. The other side has been trying to kill us for hundreds of years! This is so messed up.”

Sasha hugs her knees, pouting. “I agree. This sucks.”

Connie pats her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to marry your soulmate, you know. Plenty of people don’t! My parents weren’t soulmates, and they turned out just fine.”

“But you’re planning on marrying Hannah, aren’t you? Once this is all over?” Hannah is a childhood friend from Connie’s hometown, and the two have been in much more contact recently. 

He chuckles. “I mean, not right now. But yeah, maybe in the future…”

“So your argument makes no sense!”

“This is different though! If your soulmate really is in Marley, I think the universe will forgive you for not marrying our enemy.”

Jean groans again, staring at the glistening ocean in front of him, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they’re really out there and not here.” 

There isn’t much they can do for now, considering they have no means to get to Marley with the current resources they have. Jean buries it in the back of his mind, trying not to think about it while they spend the next month building a base near the shore. They anticipate a Marleyan ship to arrive soon, scoping the island before implementing their attack to capture Eren, the Founding Titan. What the other side doesn’t anticipate is Paradis being prepared to ambush them to carry out their own plan in infiltrating Marley. The first one arrives when they expect it. With Eren’s Titan abilities protecting the rest of them, they manage to capture the ship easily, taking those on-board hostage for questioning. Sasha, who is usually uninterested when it comes to matters not involving food, is surprisingly invested. She watches carefully from outside the tent, waiting for them to be released from their interrogation. Jean accompanies her, unclear about her intentions until she explains to him. “My string, Jean. It’s tight. My soulmate is in there.”

They haven’t talked about it since, both choosing to ignore it for the time being. Jean’s is still as slack as the first day they arrived here, and if he’s being honest to himself, it’s crosses his mind nearly every day. A small part of him wishes he was experiencing what Sasha currently is.

Eventually, a young man with brown eyes and blonde hair steps out, looking terrified. He glances at his wrist, then his surroundings, landing his gaze on Sasha’s, who’s peeking from behind a box. She gasps loudly upon eye contact, kneeling down to hide completely. Jean does the same, not before noticing the man make a similar expression, surely curious.

Sasha doesn’t say anything more about it, though Jean can tell she’s intrigued. A few days later, like fate, the man who they find out is named Niccolo, starts working at the port as a chef. Sasha is smitten as soon as she takes a bite of his food, and from then on, the two are inseparable. Jean can’t help but feel jealous. 

With all of his friends acquainted with their soulmates, Jean is growing more and more impatient by the day. It takes over two years for Paradis to organize their first trip to Marley and he’s among the first to volunteer, not only to help the scout’s reconnaissance of enemy soil, but for his own ulterior motive to finally find his soulmate. He doesn’t disclose this to anyone, though he’s certain that his best friends have a hunch. 

When they finally arrive to Marley, it’s stimulation overload. They attempt to stick together as soon as they step foot off the ship, though it’s difficult when there are so many new and exciting things to try. It’s especially hard for Jean when he notices his string getting more and more taut with each step he takes deeper into the city. 

They all decide to split up momentarily to explore, agreeing to meet back at the port in an hour. Jean and Connie follow Sasha through the crowded streets. She’s being led by her noise and eyes, searching for the tastiest, most delectable looking treats to try upon Niccolo’s instructions. “You have to try ice cream!” he told her days before they departed and it hasn’t left Sasha’s mind since. She sneaks glances at the small note he gave her, trying to match the words he wrote to the storefronts. “There! I see it! An ice cream parlor!” She rushes towards a colorful shop, pushing her face towards the glass window, drooling. Connie drags her towards the entrance, which dings as they walk through. Jean increases his pace to catch up and the string around his wrist is tight now. He scans his surroundings, trying to see what direction the little rope is pointing to. As he follows his friends inside the shop, it’s unbelievable taut now, and he’s certain that his soulmate is inside this ice cream parlor. His heart races, simultaneously terrified and excited to meet you. 

~~~

A little over two years ago, you notice the string around your wrist feels heavier on you than usual. You’re often teased about your soulmate being an “island devil” on Paradis, considering you’re the only Eldian left in Liberio without a one. In all honestly, it doesn’t bother you, the idea of your destined partner being on the other side. Even if they are an “island devil”, you’d still like to meet them. After all, you’re soulmates for a reason, right?

You spend several minutes each day sitting at the port, staring out towards the sea, wondering what they are like. You ignore the propaganda that’s been spewed at you since birth and instead fantasize about what their interests are. Do they like the same things that you do? What do you have in common, besides the rope that ties you together? How much taller or shorter are they, what color hair do they have? Do their eyes twinkle with kindness the way you picture they do? Will their smile be as charming as you imagine it? You dream about this for over two years, slowly letting the fantasy fade into the back of your mind before you lose your sanity. It’s easy to obsess over something, but it’s hard to get out of it once it consumes you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll ever meet them at this rate, so you go about your life as usual, distracting yourself from any romanticized ideas of your uncertain love story.

Today, you’re behind the counter of the ice cream parlor you work at. You started working here several months ago, hoping to be near the port in case one day, they arrive. The past few days, you convince yourself it’s just your imagination, the gradual tightening of the string. This morning, it’s tauter than it’s ever been before, and you’re certain you’re not making this up anymore; they’re here, they’re actually here. 

There isn’t time to go looking for them yourself, so you begin your shift, itching for the hours to pass quickly so that you can leave to begin your search. Fortunately, you don’t have to. Two people around your age enter the shop first, behaving oddly. They’re dressed normally, though something about them piques your interest. It’s especially alarming at how stiff the string is now, so you inspect each of their wrists carefully, dejected when you don’t see a match. The girl presses her nose to the glass, ogling at the ice cream displayed in the freezer, drooling. Her friend, a boy with a shaved head, tugs her off, apologizing with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about her. She gets a little crazy when she sees something she wants.”

You smile at them. “No need to apologize. Our ice cream is the best in town, so her reaction is understandable. What would you like?”

The girl blurts out, “Everything!” 

“Sasha! We don’t have enough money for everything!” 

She pouts, eyes flitting across each flavor. “But they all look so good! How am I supposed to decide which one to pick?!”

Feeling generous, you offer, “I can do a sampler platter, if you’d like.”

Sasha’s face brightens. “Really?! You’d do that? How much would that cost? Connie, how much do we have?!”

You wave them off, beaming at them. “It’s on the house. Consider it some good old Marley hospitality.”

They gawk at you, shocked, and it only makes you giggle louder. You retrieve one of your larger bowls and ready your scooper, starting at one end of the freezer. The bell on the front door rings, but you’re too busy to greet the new customer directly. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” 

It’s only now that you realize how stiff the string is, practically quivering now from being pulled so tight. You look up and see a young man staring at you, holding his wrist up with the same red string coiled around him, an uneasy grin on his face. “Hello.”

You almost drop the scooper into the carton, astonished to have finally found him. “Hi,” you say, heat rushing into your cheeks, taken aback at how handsome he is. “Um, let me just finish this.”

“Jean, you’re distracting our new friend here! She’s giving us all this ice cream for free!” Sasha exclaims, salivating over the bowl overflowing with ice cream now. 

He smiles at you, running his fingers in his hair. “Sorry. Please, continue.”

It takes you a few seconds to refocus back on your task. Eventually, you scoop all twelve flavors into a bowl, handing it off to Sasha and Connie, who dig in immediately as soon as they sit down. You pass a spoon to Jean. “Would you like to try? Before your friends finish it off?”

He laughs, grabbing it. “I guess I should, right?”

“Or I could scoop your own if you’d like. Which one do you want to try?”

He studies each carton carefully, pointing at your favorite flavor by coincidence. “This one is calling out to me for some reason.”

Your heart beats quicker, amazed by this serendipity. “That’s my favorite,” you admit, getting him a scoop.

“I had a feeling it would be,” he replies, beaming.

[fayewoodss]

hello I am here to ask what art movements you relate to the dream team

Okay, let's do this! LONG POST! *cracks knuckles* 😤

George

I'm starting with George bc I'm a shameless Golo and he lives in my head like a worm.

I immediately associate George with expressionism. Now, this may seem strange considering his personal aesthetics are very designer streetwear and techwear, which in many way is the opposite of expressionism. However, in a lot of his wardrobe and overall personal tastes, he does have small bits of appreciation for expressionism.

For example, this Supreme shirt of his displays the piece "Reaper" by artist Josh Smith. Josh Smith is a contemporary post-modern artist and not from the original expressionist movement, but his work holds a lot of traits to expressionist artist Edvard Munch. Though I do have criticisms of Supreme and their foundation being in appropriation of Barbara Krueger, taking her anti-consumerist work and messaging to create a consumerism giant, I do admire that they've grown to collaborate, credit, and pay artists through their clothes.

(Josh Smith with Supreme and Edvard Munch)

Expressionism is very broad in style and artistry because it was the movement all about expressing personal taste and emotions through art, rather than capturing scenes as close to reality as possible (impressionism). I shared a post a few days ago about George's precious Discord profile pictures and both of them displayed a broad and vibrant spectrum of color, one being a palette knife piece and the other being a splatter piece. Now, these aren't necessarily expressionism. Like Josh Smith's work, they are post-modernist and abstract contemporary, but the usage of color and freedom in strokes puts them in a similar category.

Now, my final reasoning for George being expressionism is purely just Vincent Van Gogh. I am biased as George is my fave and Van Gogh is my fave, but recently a theory emerged about Van Gogh that he was likely red-green colorblind. When we look at Van Gogh's color palettes. He heavily relies on blues and yellows that fall within the protanopia color spectrum, whereas when he uses greens, reds, and oranges, they are often used as shading for blue and yellow. There are instances where he uses red and green with intention (his self portraits and the painting of his room), but even then when he uses red-green, it is not in a way that follows usual color theory.

It is impossible to know if Van Gogh was actually colorblind or had a color deficiency, but I do think it is a strong theory that supports his art and adds a new layer of perspective to it. Especially considering he was very unsuccessful in his lifetime and his artwork was often considered jarring and not appreciated.

George's color blindness is also fascinating to me, as per his own on stream tests, he has tested both as severe and mild, so unless we had George's vision, we don't realize exactly how much color he truly can see. But in the parasocial box in my mind, I think he would enjoy Van Gogh and expressionism as a whole.

(Vincent Van Gogh, original work left, work with protanopia filter right)

Dream

In my collage post, I mentioned impressionism for Dream, and while I do believe that to an extent, I personally think Dream might fit more into illustration and outsider art.

Illustration is an easy one to talk about because so much of his brand is simplistic and stylized in a very graphic and illustrative way. His very icon, the black and white Microsost paint smiley on the eye straining neon green, is playful, memorable, and recognizable. It's easy to replicate and remember, and through the artists and designers on his merch team, it's able to be reimagined and expanded upon.

For some context, I originally went to school for illustration, but very quickly switched into fine arts, so my knowledge of illustration as an industry is not as deep as it could be, but I know that reproduction and recognition are definitely pushed as important.

Stepping away from Dream's own branding with illustration, I think there is a strong connection from Dream to outsider art as well.

I am a huge fan of outsider art. I took multiple classes on it.I love outsider music and poetry. It is overall a movement I greatly enjoy. However, as a disclaimer, the origins of outsider art as a movement and category for art are very dubious and unethical. I won't get into all of it here, but when outsider art was initially coined, it was very exploitative of the mentally ill, disabled people, people of color, etc. I think as time has gone on and outsider art and artists alike gained audiences that were more appreciative and good faith, it has transformed into something more wholesome and celebratory.

Dream is a self-made individual. He didn't go into YouTube, content creation, and merchandising with previous learned knowledge. He's very open about being self-taught in most of his skills and endeavors. Outsider art at its core is about the uninitiated and the self-taught pursuing artistic endeavors without the fear or stress of the institution of art.

Daniel Johnston is the most notable artist within outsider music, but he was also a visual artist as well. His work is naive and honest, even when it is hamfisted and fumbled. He is genuine and truthful, but often to a fault. But he grew a cult audience that loved and appreciated him, even through his worst moments.

A little personal interjection, but I am a huge fan of Daniel and his work spoke to me through high school as someone who spent most of my life with undiagnosed autism. His death genuinely shook me and I remember the day he died so vividly that in some ways I'm still grieving. I recommend exploring his music with my whole chest, even if it may not be to your taste.

I do think in the modern world, a lot of people drawn to outsider art and the act of being self-taught in fields of interest are neurodivergent. Dream has been very open about having ADHD, and even mentioned possibly being on the [autism] spectrum (though that question was asked in a very invasive way, so I take Dream's answer with a grain of salt). I think that adds another level of connection/relation to outsider art.

I could go on and on about outsider art and how amorphous it's definitions have become, but I'll stop there for now.

(Works of Daniel Johnston)

Sapnap

In my opinion, I think Sapnap is the most open about his interests and personal aesthetics. Even if it's not a direct comment on it, he has the most furnished and decorated office, he has a clear and consistent sense of style with favored brands and imagery, and he's a big fan of anime and adult animation. He also advertises the most out of the Dream Team, so, like, get the bag, but also I'm going to tease him with art movements that directly comment on consumerism and advertisement.

Right away, I think appropriation and pop art.

Appropriation can be a scary word as we often hear it in the context of theft or bigotry. Even within the world of art, appropriation is a touchy subject as we try to define what is transformative appropriation and what is plagiarism, reference back to Supreme and Barabara Krueger.

I actually saw a Barbara Krueger show in real life, and it was nothing short of breathtaking. It was overwhelming and in your face. It was uncomfortable and eye-opening. It both meant nothing and everything as you were faced with false advertisements, bold statements, and consumerist culture.

(Barbara Krueger at the Art Institute of Chicago, 2021)

The biggest name in pop art is Andy Warhol, and when it comes to Warhol, you either hate him or you love him. The man is surrounded by controversies, both good and bad, but I won't deny his influence on contemporary art. I think his bold colors, high contrast, and play on reproduction in art all fit Sapnap's personal aesthetics, similar to Dream with illustration. But in more modern pop art, I think a lot about my friend and colleague David Hernandez. David's art is provocative and at times uncomfortable, but he uses a lot of ideas and concepts from pop art and appropriation to appeal to a more modern audience, playing into nostalgia growing up in the age of the internet in a way that is reactionary. His work can be very NSFW and outright gooner brained, so if you do seek out his art, be warned of that nature. Still, his skill is insane because he uses acrylic, oil, and spray paint to make pieces that feel as if they were done digitally.

(David Hernandez)

I hope these make sense, and maybe you even found a new artist/art movement to enjoy! I do think there is flexibility within these and plenty of other movements and artists that fit these creators (like impressionism with Dream even though I didn't include it), but these stand out to me the most as fitting their identities and personal aesthetics and interests.

If anyone has more they want to add or discuss, please reblog and/or comment because I would love to hear from others on this!

[comfortless]

ur konig fics heal me thank you my morning is better :DD

anww, i had a bit of a question! i wasnt sure if u have already answered this question, but how would konig react if he finds out his darling is somehow affiliated in the same field he's in? whether that be a medic or smth else etc etc aside from that, i love ur fics c:

thank you, beloved! ^^ i did a bit here!

but to expand on that a little, i think you may get more leeway with him being a medic.

Instead of being pestered to return home (his home), you may just get this brute extending a hand to help you out. Not that he’s got a lick of medical training. He can patch a wound with a makeshift tourniquet in the midst of some firefight, knows well enough not to fall asleep when he’s been banged up a bit too much, but assisting you with other people is a very large, pronounced “No.”

Soothe him by letting him hover a bit and watch you work. He’s not supposed to be in here, but it’s nice having some wolf in sheep’s skin nearby to pass you the gauze from across the room. So long as he isn’t lifting or touching the poor injured souls in your care, it shouldn’t be much of a problem, right? No one dares to peep any criticism for your work when you’ve got a smitten Goliath nearby, anyway.

Except, he does get a bit jealous here. You’re so gentle with the operators in your care, cooing to them and tending to their every need like a servant rather than the lovely angel that you are to him. He almost wishes that he weren’t so good at what he does, just to experience that once. Or twice. Or for a lifetime. Whatever time you’re willing to give to him, he will take it.

Maybe he gets a bit reckless, gives himself a minor injury by pulling something in the midst of lifting weights. König doesn’t do that; when he fucks up, he deals with it himself, so it’s more than a little strange to see him crossing into the room with an actual injury. It won’t put him out for long, just enough time to experience your gentle hands over him, see that caring look in your eye directed toward him instead of one of these bastards that doesn’t truly appreciate you, not the way that he does at least.

He misconstrues you just doing your job as an outright declaration that what he feels is mutual, and maybe it is, because the care that you give to him is different. You laugh, not at him or his injury, but out of pure mirth when you ask who’s going to offer you ibuprofen instead of gauze now. Your touch is lingering, and you playfully shove the shoulder that hasn’t been wounded when he tells you a kiss would cure him better than any medicine.

His wayward courtship comes with every nick or scrape he “suffers”. The comments grow increasingly strange the moment you’re on your knees tending to the tiniest bruise you’ve ever seen on a man. You both know it’s absolutely nothing, that all of this is absurd and silly and he should just make some sort of move already. Except, that when he does tell you this scene would be so much better in his room, you’re quick to shush him and request that he leave.

… But you don’t stay angry with him for long.

Your favorite soldier always returns to you.

The next time with a clumsily plucked, yellow wildflower and a stare that borders on unnerving when he thrusts the dainty thing into your face; a tight-lipped apology follows when he tells you that he’s not sure what came over him, you’re just so pretty, and that he thinks about you so often it’s making him more than a little crazy.

The time after that with food from a restaurant away from base and another vague profession of love.

And again, with some pretty necklace in tow that he claims used to belong to his mother. König is more intense than ever when he strings the jewelry around your throat with shaking hands, dips his head down to huff into your ear as an arm snakes around your waist to keep you trapped there against him.

“Is that enough?” is the growl that follows, the warmth of his breath and the sheer intensity in his voice causing every hair at the back of your neck to stand on end.

“For what…?” And you could almost pray he’s not truly dumb enough to attempt to lure you into his bed for a string of jewelry his mother trusted him with.

“To make you like me.”

To anticipate something that sounds so innocent from a man who kills for a living is unheard of. You already suspected after his ridiculous comment about a kiss, already knew from the start with all of the trinkets he’s fetched for you, but the thought that he didn’t know already… poor thing.

So, you tell him that you already do, that you have for a while, it’s just that maybe suggesting you blow him before offering a proper date is more than a little inappropriate. Not that having your overgrown suitor chasing your heels is any less.

[gatheringbones]

wickie stamps, from I am your Frankenstein, from leatherfolk: radical sex, people, politics and practice, edited by mark thompson, 1991

[“My activism began right after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., with a donation to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. In my twen- ties, in hopes of reaching women like my momma who were locked away from their children, I joined forces with men and women whose families, like mine, were imprisoned. A decade later, I expanded this work to include battered women who were incarcerated for killing their abusers. Although my activism has spanned the communist and anti- intervention movements, it was in the anti- psychiatry, the women's health, and eventually the violence- against- women movements that I would directly wage war against the madness in my past.

For over half my life, I've sat on dozens of progressive boards, volunteered thousands of hours, held down back- breaking, poverty- level movement jobs, and attended many protests. I have watched fellow activists collapse, and institutions and movements I fought to build dissolve. Because of ill health, poverty, breakdowns, and emotional abuse, most of my peers have left political work. My activism is the only weapon I have ever had against the domestic violence, alcoholism, homophobia, and sexism that have maimed me, my family, and my friends.

Since coming out as a sadomasochist, I have felt a perpetual scream of rage against a movement that has betrayed me. I do not know if I will ever be able to express how deeply I have been wounded. For my sadomasochism has turned me into a pariah. The compliant face of sisterhood, which once comforted me, has now cracked open to reveal a poisonous Medusa's head. My movement is now just like my familial home, a house filled with hissing vipers.

After twenty years of movement work, I am alone again. Right before a scene, in my leather or my lace, I sit on the edge of my bed and wonder, where are all those women activists to support me now? Where are they for my lover, who is much more experienced than I, and has paid dearly for pursuing her desires? If I tarry too long she must come into the room, sit down beside me, and hold me while I cry. Where is the army of women- “proud sisters" is what they said- to cheer us in our courageous act?

When an ex- lover who was angry about our breakup grabbed me and threatened my life, where the fuck were my sisters, so concerned with violence against women? Could I have found a haven in the scores of shelters I helped build? Or found my image in their literature, the words I helped write? Could I have asked for a return of the support that I’d given them? Or, now that I am a sadomasochist, are they wedded to their vicious theories that heap more blame on me than my lifetime of abusers?

In my family, words— in the form of eagerly awaited letters— were the only thing I had to cling to. Words, mailed across the madness, the miles, and the years, are the most cherished and untarnished heirloom that has been given to me. Violence and disease took everything else. Somehow in words we could love, laugh, and be the family we knew we weren't. When I received letters from my incarcerated momma, I would sit, late at night, cross- legged on my bed and gather them into a big pile on my lap. Then I drew them up into my arms and tried to squeeze the love inside of me. In my letters back to her I intentionally let my tears drip onto my childlike scrawl just in case she might not know that I was devastated from the loss of her or that my daddy was scaring me. To this day, when a letter from my sisters or my stepmother arrives, I carry it for days. Words were all we had.

And it is now words, the gift of my demolished family, that have become my source of strength. They are carrying me through rage and agony for a movement that has maimed me. With words, I can stake out my ground and wage my war. If I do not let their hatred against me come too near, I will not be hurt. For I am beginning to break the silence about the sickness within my movement. It is a way to help her heal. During those dark times, when my movement's fascistic sexual theories and hollow voices almost convince me I am sick, it is my anger rechanneled into clear prose that snaps me back from the edge that my feminist comrades persistently nudge me near.

There are amends to be made, reparations due, and many questions that in my writing I am beginning to ask. I want to ask," You, who demand accountability for batterers and rapists, what about the last decade of S/ M women you abused, denounced, and banned from your meeting places? When are you going to hold yourself accountable for your own violence against women?

After twenty years of devotion to a movement, I find myself searching for a new place of solace, and some reflection of myself. But where can I turn? To a movement gone mad? To old friends who love me but who, as I journey deeper into S/ M, feel so far away? To old theoretical iconoclasts- Andrea Dworkin, Mary Daly, Marilyn Frye my life- roots that now lie rotting? Or to the new leathermen and women in my life whom I know so scantily and whose support I need so desperately? When the final limb breaks and I am pitched into my abyss of fear, many eyes will see, but what hands will reach out to break my fall?

Although my voice is in growing disharmony with the matriarchal movement, I have decided that I will not betray that which bound my wounds. For she taught me to sound the depths of my rage and forge my fury into a sword to wield against my enemies. She gave me back the memories of my blood sisters and taught me to love my momma for her courage. She led me into my lesbianism, and eventually into my sadomasochism. But now she writhes in her own poisons. So while her sexually neutered goddesses are napping, I will slip into her lair and, with pen filled with my family's blood, confront her with the madness that she's trying to say is mine.”]

[regulusrules]

There are so many reasons I resent Diamond of the Day but honestly, with all the fairness in the world, there could have been no better magic reveal than:

“I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

Like it would take me days really to explain just how much this line means to me, but more than that how it perfectly meant for these two characters. It was the perfect culmination to a lifetime of giving. It was the first time they gave space for their relationship to expand and breathe. They didn’t hide the most significant scene behind placebo words of commitment and destiny; they highlighted Merlin’s central gravitational force and the real reason behind every single act he ever did:

For Arthur — only ever for him.

And Colin’s acting.. dear holy Lord. The tears we see brimming from the life of hiding that finally steps into the light. His little solemn nod to his own words as if he cannot fathom anything but their truth. His clinging to Arthur, as if he was the one dying, not the reverse. It all emphasized Merlin’s love for Arthur and I truly think nothing could’ve competed.

I will say it here like I say it everywhere; we deserved time to see the two of them truly live in the extent of their changed existence. Arthur deserved to know it all, and Merlin more than deserved the acceptance we see in Arthur’s eyes in the end. If such a perfect magic reveal had taken place just earlier in the show, then at least the painful edge of killing Arthur would’ve leaned with the fact that their story reached the crescendo it deserved. That, in my opinion, was the whole point of such a beautiful scene, and what would have maintained it.

[thewonandonly]

AAHAHAHA OKAY, HI ITS JURRASIC WORLD ANON

Can i request a stray kids reaction to their partner absolutely bawling at the brachiosaurous scene please 😭 my friends had to console me for like 10 minutes cause it made me cry so hard

stray kids (ot8) reaction to their partner bawling their eyes out to brachiosaurus' scene <3

synopsis: it's time to watch the jurassic park franchise, and when an absolute devastating scene from the movie released nearly 8 years ago shows up, the boys aren't sure how to react when they find their s/o crying their eyes out.

warnings: gender neutral reader, spoilers?

author's note: guys this is literally me with meet the robinson's. everytime little wonders by rob thomas plays in the movie, BOOM. instantly moved to tears.

thank you so much for the request! please consider reblogging my post and leave a cute little comment to boost my work!!

chan was excited to see jurassic world! jurassic park and the entire franchise was an important part in the film industry, so for him to watch the movie for the first time with the love of his life was an absolute prime decision. the movie started off steady, and then it got interesting. and then, it got sad :( the same brachiosaurus from the first movie was caught in the fire, no where to go as the water expanded across the horizon. it was trapped. it was heartbreaking. gut-wrenching to watch. and he would've cried, he wanted to cry. small sniffles echoed across the living room wall, and he turned to see you laying your head on his shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks. chan. immediately turned to comfort you, his hand brushing your cheek.

"oh, baby, it's so sad." his hands are gentle, as if he wasn't comforting you over an artificial created brachiosaurus. "it's sad, it's okay to cry." he used his thumb to wipe your tears and paused the movie until you felt consoled enough to continue.

minho had already seen a few of the jurassic park franchise movies. how couldn't he have? it's one of the biggest movie franchises of the world. he hasn't watched recent instillments due to a busy schedule, but when you mention finally watching the recent ones on his day off, he immediately took you up on the offer; popcorn, blankets, a nice comfortable pillow, cuddle sessions and a surround system turned up damn near full blast sounded like the perfect night, especially with his favorite person in the whole world. the movie was not too painful to get through, he did cringe at some dialogue throughout the movie, but all movies have those moments. he would've cried at the scene where the brachiosaurus was stranded on the island, but he personally felt like the scene was a bit rushed. he knew you. the second the scene came to an end, he turned to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head.

"you're such a crybaby." he whispered, his hand rubbing your shoulder, "it was a bit sad though." he admitted, chuckling to himself. minho knew how quick to tears you could be at movies, and he'd be lying if he didn't find it cute; it just means you can find sentiment in everything. and he admired that.

changbin is totally a movie buff! he has seen the jurassic park movies at least 6 times in his lifetime, and he was probably one of the firsts leading the crusade for the newest movies. changbin loves the movies, and he was the first person at the movie theaters doors on release day, at the earliest showing, with his large tub of popcorn. so, when you told him you never saw the newest ones, he nearly dropped his jaw. how could you not?! he took this as an opportunity to introduce you to some of the greatest movies he's ever experienced. he set everything up, not accepting help from you, before he pulled out a dvd player, and gently placed the disc into the tray (these were the only dvds he owned tbh). he watched excitedly, peeking at you from the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction: happiness, excitement, tension, and of course, sadness. he cried in the theater when the scene came on, and he isn't afraid to admit that it still makes his heart squeeze watching the scene again.

both you and changbin sat on his bed, crying at the scene, the movie paused on the last glimpse of the brachiosaurus, which only made you both cry your eyes out more. changbin and you didn't share any words, but you both shared tears.

hyunjin can admit he has never seen the jurassic park movies. he wasn't a dinosaur kid, he was an ancient egyptian kid fs. he personally thought the premise of the movies were a bit silly. why would they open these parks if it always ended in disaster? but, here he was, sitting beside you, as you wore your acid-washed jurassic park pajama set, excitedly starting the movie. hyunjin was aware of how often you watched these movies, and how much you loved them, so he had no problem watching them with you if it meant he could see how happy you got (dinosaur kid and ancient egyptian kid solidarity). but one thing he could not understand was how you've watched these movies so many times, and you still cry your eyes out to the brachiosaurus scene.

hyunjin wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cried, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. okay, he gets it; the scene is sad, but he truly didn't understand why exactly this was so sad. that is until you cried out how the brachiosaurus in the sad scene was the same one from the very first one. then, he understood, and continued to rub your shoulder sweetly, not bothering to mention how you might have just made him a jurassic park fan.

felix has the entire movies memorized. you know that post on this website that says "i'm gonna watch shrek," and it's just the op replaying the movie through their head because they've watched it so many times? yeah, that's felix with jurassic park. he knows the lines, the jokes, the LORE. he had a 16 year hyperfixation on jurassic park, and he wasn't going to let it die! he's watched it so many times, that when you say you wanted to watch the recent ones, he can't help but say yes, like an excited puppy. i think felix has a good grip on his emotions during movies (or he's like me, where i dont understand something until AFTER i finish the movie) so he doesn't cry when he watches it but once he finishes the credits, the waterworks start.

and when he saw you crying about (in his opinion!!!) the most gut-wrenching scene in cinema, he felt his own tears bubble up, pulling you close to him. he's cried over this scene multiple times by himself, but now, he had someone who would understand where exactly he would be coming from. it was a nice comfort.

jisung... oh, boy. jisung definitely got the film spoiled for himself on twitter or youtube or something. he's not a die-hard fan, but he was planning on watching it soon! (it's been almost 8 years, bud, and it's still on his to be watched list). jisung was upset, and wouldn't open the app again until you sat down and watched it with him. jisung is a crier, he cries to movies, even when they aren't sad. but when they are sad, oh my god! he changes his entire personality to match that movie. he will never shut up about it.

jisung cried before your own tears spilled; the music, the shadow that reflected against the smoke. omg, he was breaking down. seeing him cry so hard, made you cry! well, him and the poor brachiosaurus made you cry. you were both hugging each other as you cried, jisung hiccuping about how it wasn't fair and that he would've went back to save them. he cried for the rest of the night,

seungmin is a lot like minho in a sense. he finds the scene rushed, so he couldn't find it in his heart to cry. seungmin watched the movie already, and he knows what happens. he knows it's sad, but he honestly can't find his tears for the scene, even when he first watched it. the scene to him felt sooooo rushed that he kinda just sat there, staring at the television screen, waiting for it to end.

but, he knew you were crying, so he threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling the blanket back over your legs and let you cry. he didn't have any comforting words to say since he couldn't even cry at the scene, but you were happy he even hugged you for the scene!

jeongin isn't a die-hard fan, or a casual enjoyer. he saw the movie once and called it a night. he didn't have any words to say or not about it. when you asked him if he wanted to watch it with you, he agreed, only because he wanted to spend time with you, and he had an excuse to hold you. i think jeongin doesn't honestly remember the movie, so he has to watch it multiple times to even remember, which is why he isn't much of a die-hard fan.

jeongin was crying by the time the scene came up on the screen, and he turned to look at you as your bottom lip quivered at the scene, your eyes pouring the liquid from your eyes. jeongin hugged you tightly. no words exchanged, only warmth, to give comfort to one another. after his second and third watch, it seems like every time he watches it, he cried like a baby each time. (me with meet the robinsons)

copyright © 2023 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[hyobros]

Cheritz's changes in staff over the lifetime of The Ssum

I wanted to write a post about this because it was the nail in the coffin convincing me that The Ssum won't get better. I really want to be optimistic, I was for the first year of the game's release. But with how hard they're fumbling June's route, and having some context by seeing the dramatic changes that happen behind the scenes, I don't have any hope for the game's future in its original concept.

So here's a big fat list of credits, comparison of them, and my own stupid commentary.

A comparison of the beta OPs credits (2018) vs the new OP credits (April 2022)

Project Directed by-

Sujin Ri (this stays constant)

Project Managed by-

Heinrich Dortmann (this stays constant during the time periods I'm comparing- we'll come back to this later)

Character Model by-

Yuseung An (this credit never appears again so uhhhh)

Game Designed by-

Yoonji Shin, Haeyoung Go (this credit also never appears again)

Project Assisted by-

2018:

Youngtak Lee, Heetae Lee, Yeonwoo Jung, Kyungha Kim, Kyungho Kim, Jihyun Jang, Hyejin Hong, Daniel Hong, Seungiim(?) Hwang, Dakyoung Lee

April 2022:

Heetae Lee, Junghee Choi

Art illustrated by-

2018:

Ilbo Sim, Jinhee Lee, Jihyeon Choi, Hyunju Na, Juhul Kim, Jaehee Hwang, Mirae Kang

April 2022:

Ilbo Sim, Jihyeon Choi, Minji Kim, Mirae Kang, Youngjoo You, Yura Lee

Programmed by-

2018:

Mansu Park, Marcos Arroyo, Rachel Tay, Soonyong Hong, Seungjin Lee, Myungjun Choi

April 2022:

Gunsoo Lee, Kukhwa Park, Moonhyuk Jang, Myungjun Choi, Seungjin Lee, Wonbok Lee, Youngkwon Jeon

Scenario Written by-

2018:

Jinseo Park, Minjeong Kim, E Hyun Kim, Eunchong Jang

April 2022:

Jinseo Park, Lilly Hwang, Minjung Kim, Saerom Shin, Summer Yoon, Youngran Moon

Language Localized by-

2018:

Sunhee Moon, Minkyung Chi, Sungjae Choi, Junhee Kim

April 2022:

Minkyung Chi, Pilhwa Hong, Saenanseul Kim, Sorim Byeon

Sound Resourced by-

2018:

(N/A)

April 2022:

Songhee Kim

Customer Service/Communication with Users by-

2018:

Sunkyeong Yun, Hyeseon Yang

April 2022:

Donghee Yoon, Joyce Hong, Sanghee An, Subin Kim

Credits from 2019

These are in the lyric booklet included in the Teo Love Bundle. Strangely enough, I'm already seeing differences between the 2018 credits and 2019. Uh oh?

As of release + a few months

These screenshots don't feature all the credits, unfortunately. I'm relying on screenshots someone else took because I'm not proactive but hindsight is 20/20.

Changes: Project is no longer managed by Heinrich Dortmann, instead by Juho Woo. Scenario team cut down to 2 people, one of which is a new name (Jooyoung Lim). Art team also cut down to 2 people. Sound is no longer resourced by Songhee Kim, but Jaeryeon Park and ROGIA. All new team of directing assistants as well, it expanded to 4 people but they're all new names. 2 fewer programmers, only one of the listed names was already working.

October 2023 (June's release)

Here's where it somehow gets worse lol.

Changes: A lot. Directing assisted by 1 person. They were not a part of the team credited in the OP. Down to 3 programmers, only 1 being in the OP. Entirely new art team! It's up to 4 people, but all of them are new, even compared to only a few months prior. Down to 1 scenario writer pobrecita (but we're coming back to that). Since I don't have screenshots of the project assistant credits from launch, can't say anything for that, except that Gui Zhenghao is new compared to the OP but the number of staff there remained the same. Flaming Heart is gone for the BGM! He's been working with Cheritz for forever but is gone now. One person from the communication team left, so they're down to 2. That would explain why emails have been slower since October. Only 1 translator, though Cheritz is now looking to recruit new ones.

Important note:

According to Cheritz's post acknowledging their use of gAI, Sujin Ri was not involved in writing season 1 of the game, but IS the main writer for season 2. I won't make a rant about how much I hate what she's writing cuz this isn't the post for that, but it explains why season 2 is so vastly different.

The fact that only a few people (like, in the lower single digits) remain even from 2019/early 2022, let alone who's still around from 2018, is really frustrating for the game. The game started with one vision, but now it's being turned into something completely different. Even the app's functions are inconsistant between season 1 and 2 (and a little so between Harry and Teo). According to an email I got from Cheritz, season 2 takes place a few years before season 1. Just sit with that knowledge for a bit :P. It's like the current people in charge of The Ssum (*cough Sujiin Ri*) couldn't be bothered to keep the original concept in mind, let alone how the timeline would work.

This post was a long time coming, I was caught up in just how bizarre this all is and finding tons of stuff that I haven't even included in the post. Writing this has taken about 3 hours (including the time I spent on a post ONLY FOR TUMBLR TO NOT WANNA WORK PROPERLY WHEN I TRIED TO POST IT SO IT GOT DELETED) and uhhh yeah. Now I gotta wait a few years to ask former staff if their NDAs are expired yet LOL

[sharoscylla]

Actually I think I deserve to be feral about Tommy 1975

it's a rock opera and it's got elton john and tina Turner in it, yeah, it's got the pinball wizard song, right, goofy times with the who

Tommy Walker is explicitly disabled in a way that reads nowadays as autistic and traumatized, and canonically experiences neglect, physical abuse, and childhood sexual abuse because of the ways in which he is disabled. he is sexually abused by his uncle and, arguably, his cousin, stepdad, and mom. (I think the beans/soap/mirror bedroom "Tommy Can You Hear Me" sequence is. unfortunately. an extremely thinly veiled metaphor.)

his disabilities combined with his talent for pinball turn him into an exploited child/young adult celebrity that his family uses to build their own personal wealth and he gets turned into inspiration porn for the pseudochristian cult they start, which expands further when he "miraculously" regains his sight, hearing, and speech as a 30 year old christ allegory. it's wretched because he does genuinely feel like he can help people by sharing his lived experiences with them, but it's too late - his parents have already turned his example and teachings into a pricey commodity and people who have paid every penny they owned for enlightenment end up violently rebelling against the lies they were (literally) sold, despite Tommy's best intentions.

and what does he get after a lifetime of suffering that culminated in his genuine attempts to help people? he sees his family murdered, everyone who ever supported him marching away into the distance, and he swims off into the sea and to apparent enlightenment, alone.

just. it's such a movie. I must've watched it a couple dozen times in my teen years. it's absolutely the product of its time but it's got a LOT to say about the exploitative nature of organized religion, cults, faith healing, "Disability Parents" (you know what I mean,) show parents/parent managers, cycles of abuse/exploitation, cycles of trauma, military worship, incest, heteronormativity/corrective rape, celebrity worship culture, etc... and like! it's not for everyone, but I still think everyone should have to watch it at least once.

anyway Tommy 1975 everybody. if you pick only one 50 year old Problematic Media to consume this year please pick this one. I need more people to talk to about Jack Nicholson's cameo and the Themes and the Bean Scene and the Ska Enjoying Cultists.

[st-just]

hi I like your blog. I have a question that may be too personal so no hard feelings if you don't answer but could you talk a little bit about more about what you like/don't like about Halifax? im considering Dalhousie for grad school but have never been! and would like to have as much information about where I might spend the next 2 years of my life. thank you!

Oh sure! Though like, it depends on where you're coming from? Everything here is very relative. And also I'm absolutely certain I will forget numemrous vital things, do ask followup questions.

Most important thing is that the housing market is horrifying - the city's population started booming during COVID and the zoning and construction is only really starting to catch up now. Especially within walking distance of Dal getting a place to live at anything approaching affordable is going to be vicious. (This has unsurprisingly coincided with a large uptick in homelessness. Unremarkable to walk by a tent in a corner of some public park now).

Relatedly, the bus system is like - okay I'm not sure it's notably bad for a mid-sized-ish north american city, but it's damn sure not any better. You can get by bussing around on the peninsula, anywhere beyond 20 minute drives turn into 40-60 minute rides.

You will not have a family doctor, figure out the nearest walk-in clinic you can use for anything non-emergency.

The city's economy runs on some combination of students, tourists, sailors and soldiers. There are as many bars as you might expect (had the most per capita in the country for a while, don't know if we still do). Some of them are actually very good!

Relatedly, weed and liquor are both only legally sold by the crown corporation monopoly and a few weird specialty places.

None of them are massive, but there is a very nice amount of parkland and green space scattered throughout the city. The public (botanical) gardens are really beautiful in the spring-summer, and most are well-maintained (they just renovated and expanded the outdoor pool on the city Commons last year, even).

The waterfront has been thoroughly gentrified for the cruise ships over the course of my lifetime, but it's all still open to the public and grabbing one of the armchairs or hammocks to read in during the summer is lovely.

Provincially the government is the most thoroughly domesticated/red tory party in the country (they fairly literally ran to the left of the liberals). Full of corrupt backslapping, constantly getting into pissing matches with the municipal government, will probably govern for the next decade.

For reasons that I assume are downstream of all the students and having the closest thing to a regional theater scene east of Quebec, the whole city is IME very queer-friendly. For reasons I absolutely not understand, pride is in August here.

The public library system is basically the only part of the municipal government I think anyone involved should be unequivocally proud of, but it is great.

I don't really know the crime stats offhand but like, I left my apartment door unlocked probably 7 times in 10 through all of undergrad and it never bit me in the ass?

[tieflingfingers]

Exquisite Corpse

Exquisite Corpse: (noun) a game and/or method by which a collection of words or images is collectively assembled

(Character exploration and scene rewrite.)

Word Count: 4737

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (oc, half-drow bard, Thomasin.)

Summary: Rewrite of the first bite scene, fleshing out my character lore and diving more into a character study of Astarion in the moment. I always imagined it as two elves fumbling and bumbling mostly. (3 drafts and about a month of writing in my spare time.)

Warnings: Adjacent to horror/angst/humor/the seed planting of fluff. Vague mentions of abuse/trauma/whiskey. Two scrappy folks trying to not 1v1 each other and play nice. Wyll is the only adjusted one here.

Far into the depth of Faerun, lived proof of a forbidden courtship blossomed. Proof sprouting from its bud. The birth of an honest lovechild. An infant whose cheeks were pink and supple. Raspberries stained flesh, always grown on the same acre of farmland. The same acre as her mother and her mother before her. A lineage built feminine yet sturdy. 

The child was of half-drow descent, bathed by light not afforded to her father. Her mother would daydream about teaching her to braid her hair and tend crops. They’d one day read books about traveling lands beyond even her own comprehension. Tangible blessings. 

From the half-elf's first moments, she was adorned with a ribbon of pink undertones. Settled beneath her flesh, risen with every laugh the infant mirrored. Her mother would imprint her love with a nestle. Skin that was decorated by a labor of love. Sunkissed, speckled, and pressed against her child’s cheek.

"There’s so much to see in every plane, Thomasin,” her mother whispered.

The legacy of Thomasin’s father seemed to get swept away into the Underdark. Far off tales. His complexion was described as deepened in silver tints. A tall gentleman who wore a gentle expression. One whose light was never fostered. Yet, he still knew where the light resided. Ideas and vagaries never to be spoken aloud.

 It merely settled in his chest. Muddled and confusing to define, but important enough to carry over the years. Memories of his presence were left like breadcrumbs. Morsels that only found themselves within letters and anecdotal praise of her childhood. Memories that tried their best to not be muddied. To not be tainted. These weren’t documentations of Drow pillaging and contemporary misinformation. He was folklore she'd grow to cherish.

Now Thomasin marched on her own, keeping the tale ever-expanding. Adventures on the topsoil her mother birthed her upon. Proven as fruitful as they were merciless.

Tucked away under a thick quilt slept Thomasin, lifetimes away from her original roots. Dark hair sprawled around her head like a halo. Strands entwined and unfurled from restless slumber in the throes of her tent. Her mind clung to the background noise of new acquaintances. Their words mingled amongst one another, recounting anecdotes or playful jabs. Wine often was the foundation of dinner. Even without hearty meals, they bonded over the fire and warmth in their bellies. Each crackling pop of its flames became a countdown to silence.

Her body rest. Every night, flames eventually simmered down to a flicker. One by one, newfound companions retired to their sleeping mats, lulled by the alcohol slumped in their core. Only the light shuffling of whoever had been appointed lookout would be left. And so, under the awning of an old oak tree, she drifted back into what sleep she could muster. 

Within her confines, limbs wrapped themselves into the fetal position. Forty-fives years of age and her hands had documented such. Rings adorned each of her fingers, clanking against one another, twisting round and round like the rings of a tree. Encrusted gems wore generous scuffs and gold-plated metals revealed their true lacking luster. Prized as ever, nonetheless.

Her frame was worn but strong. Travel brought forth steady inclines, grassy hills, and whatever could be foraged from the land before her. She’d decorate herself with curated fashion tastes, pigments, scars from unfortunate scraps. Hips wide when the seasons were plentiful and a posture curated over decades of structure. When the journey grew tedious, laborious for the soul, there was comfort in her nest. 

Her satchel had a thick leather exterior, propping itself up like a presence of its own. 

Inside were only the essentials: 

A tiny stoneware bowl, gifted from past friends. Scarves made of fine stolen silk, whose weave snagged from nature’s long undeniable embrace. Books with split bindings lovingly re-bound by hand. Meticulous and maintained, threaded bundles of pages becoming whole once more. They bore anthologies of tales from the mouths of Faerun and guides to the edible flora in untamed territory.

Tchotchkes and tucked away keepsakes. Bottled liquids and lotions, floral and earthy scents slipping past cork with the faintest aroma. A violin whose strings had been plucked, popped, and rewound more times than she could count. An instrument beaten and babied all in the name of livelihood. Her comforts. Her essentials.

Images of tea times with loved ones and anxious liminal space leaked into her brain. Nighttime often plagued her with contentment and groveling in tandem, but it felt all too mundane these days. What was left would soon be filled with ideas for limericks anyhow. The thought alone found some sort of peace. It stretched itself thin and relaxed her stiffened joints. The glossier the top coat, the more fulfilling her slumber. 

Despite swaddling herself as if curled beside a hearth, awareness of her surroundings rarely faltered. Noises would always harmonize. Rustling leaves. Native berries plucked by the gust. As her mother always said, “We are a guest to nature. The nocturnal world has always lived with us, just as the light does."

Even then she wasn’t prepared. 

The nocturnal had entered her home.

Air began to feel thicker, heavier. The weight of cast shadows had an ever faint density atop her skin. There was no consideration for what or who was lurking. Only survival, a split second to allow her eyes to open and catch a glimpse of the grey and black shadow hovering above her. They darted back and forth to soak in the silhouette whilst her right eye inferred behind its cloudy cornea.

A pit formed deep within her chest. 

Before her was only reassurance of common fears. 

Domineering men and strategic company.

There was no hesitation in her reflexes, however. No need to process anxieties. No time. Muscles tensed, but words fled from her lips in rapid unnatural succession. A spell that slept so readily inside her in case of emergency. Reciting broken Drow language, texts of her youth, and vague horrific promises. The whispers trickled their way from her tongue into a river of flowing smoke. Cryptic, glowing only the faintest blue haze. A haunted melodic had snaked its way into the elven man's skull.

It crept through his ears, igniting any inkling of apprehension into a full blown panic. He gasped. It was only a mere few seconds, but the pressure entangled within his temples. Sharpened ephemeral claws wrapped around his brain's already wrought and battered disposition. The terror swirled until it managed to escape through his tear ducts and ever so slightly agape mouth. 

Into the darkness outside her tent, Astarion stumbled. He flung himself backward, landing square on his palms, disillusioned by sudden backlash.

Thomasin's breathing was ragged. She had managed to scuttle to the mouth of her tent, a small dagger unsheathed from her thigh. It became embedded within her fingers through an unyielding grip. A brilliant strategy if it weren't for the woman's shaking hands. Chips and wear along its metal mumbled its victims' names. One by one, few and far between, until they were inaudible with the next sharpening. The old blade had become a beacon of last resort use.

From the base of her other palm, mellowed light appeared. It bobbed about, rhythmic in its sway, and glinting upon both elves untimely unpolish. Before her, the perpetrator had been illuminated. Astarion was shivering in place, unable to grasp emotion beyond the familiarity of magical cruelty.

He knew he had to simply endure. The clutches of the Weave always dissolved before he did. Luckily, Thomasin had little intent to prolong such anguish. She knew, in this short stretch of vulnerability, she could approach him with caution. Like a writhing animal peeking with curiosity at another writhing beast. Quills plunged their way into the other's side in fright in a sort of comical mercy.

Astarion’s knuckles appeared speckled in shades of purple like a bruised plum. Its exterior had been tumbled and prodded, hitting the ground before it was truly ripe. Stabilizing his breath shone how his posture looked uncomfortable to maintain. His frame ached under the weight of its growing hunger. Worry wore heavy on an aching jaw and his pallid skin tone spoke of unrevealed pangs.

Although a hint of relief seemed to wash over Astarion. Gradual, but all too welcomed, he had begun to melt back into his previous state. His fingers eased from their strain in the dirt as eyes flicked back up to hers. Exhausted predation.

“Gods—shit,” he muttered. “It’s not–”

Words clamored to be set free from Thomasin’s throat, vicious and vitriolic, but adrenaline kept her frozen. Syllables bashed against her teeth, grinding them down until the unbridled anger settled into something meek sneaking from her lips. Uncharacteristically so. 

“Please, don’t do this. Whatever you-Whatever that was about to be,” Thomasin interupted. 

“You don’t have to use that, truly. Honestly. Aren’t blades and gutting a friend on sight a tad passé these days?” His voice cracked. 

Thomasin’s brow furrowed. Almost incredulous. Silence to allow him to consider literally any better defense.

“Perhaps my reputation precedes me, but I promise I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Do you see me as some kind of– oh, I don’t know. Some ne’er-do-well? I’ll admit, I’m a little hurt,” he whispered almost as audibly as his speaking voice. The lilt in his cadence was slithering its way back in. 

Astarion rolled his shoulder, shifting weight to straighten his spine and tend to the impact onto his wrists. His answers were temperate. Collected, if it weren’t for stutters and awkward laughter forcing themselves to the forefront. Every crack would be blanketed by familiar social cues and overcompensating charisma. Thomasin recognized it. There was little left to hide the fatigue he pressed down, as if forcibly pulverized against the weight of an ever-rotating stone wheel. Nothing left but powdered iron and rust. 

“There are few things I have a difficult time wording,” Astarion continued. A breath in and out, perhaps for dramatics. “Nothing awful, terrible, of course. I wouldn’t dare ruin the company we keep. Only those most mild of con–”

She watched as his entire body tensed up once more. Pale elven ears drooped down the moment he caught a glimpse of another in their proximity. Wyll had peeked from his tent in the near distance. He was hunched over and clinging to the slumber he’d been awoken from. Like a concerned mother investigating neighborly spats, too far to piece together what was occurring.

“Is everything alright?” he asked in his own hushed tone.

Astarion laughed. Each chuckle punctuated itself as if to convince his audience of good tidings. His unregulated volume rang even unnatural to him, and he immediately quieted himself. Before he could dig himself deeper into the metaphorical grave, his prey spoke up.

“It’s nothing,” she said, tucking her dagger delicately within her sleeve. “Seems Astarion spooked himself. Spooked me too with all the noise.”

This earned a smile from Wyll. And then a yawn.

“You two need not worry. The forests are just as bustling as the city streets, I can assure you. It’s probably the wind. Wake me and the others if trouble is afoot.”

“Aha, yes. Afoot,” Astarion managed.

Thomasin sighed. For a man that often boasted of suave proclivities, he was doing himself little favors. 

“Of course, don’t let him infringe on the Blade’s beauty sleep. I’ll stay up for a little while until he gets his barings,” she reassured before nodding to the gentle horned man. Enough to quell the situation and bid sweet dreams between the three. 

As the coast was clear, Astarion’s uncertainty made subtle changes upon his face. His ears never fully rose, now unsure what he was dealing with. He found himself thrust into his prey’s tent by the scruff of his shirt collar, white linens now bathed in full bloom of blues and calm violets. The infallible expression of confidence on his lips juxtaposed the cramped corner he pushed himself into. In fact, as her dagger grazed the crook of his neck, he appeared almost enthused.

Thomasin sighed. The closed quarters between them seemed to not intimidate as planned. She recoiled the act just enough to speak genuinely.

“What the fuck were you doing?”

“Alright, darling. Alright, don’t behead me before you’ve even let me have my peace. Sharing is caring, you know, and-” He laid out both of his hands before her, gesturing to his next suggestion as fact. “We know you do secretly care about me.”

Thomasin rolled her eyes. She had moved her position a mere inch before he piped up again, preparing his rebuttal after every previous rebuttal. 

“Fine, fine. You’ve pulled my leg enough. You know- There’s that ghastly sight we saw on our walk earlier in the week. Hog had those curious little wounds on his neck.” The man continued to smile, but his voice betrayed him. It wracked his nerves to say such aloud. “Perhaps… the stories of creatures going bump in the night aren’t entirely as they seem. That-Perhaps… Perhaps! Just maybe, vampire spawn live amongst you just as your peers.”

Astarion watched as her chest jolted with sudden inhalation. This was subdued fear he’d witnessed all too often in his two centuries prowling the night. However, this was different. No masters or gods to tell the elf what to do or how to act. No higher powers to blame as he could always do on script. 

He found himself leaning forward, grasping any form of recovery.

“Thomasin, darling. I am not in this state of being out of my volition. I-I-There are powerful people in Baldur’s Gate, an evil powerful man that I had the luck of being plucked from.” He swallowed hard. Visibly painful yet still attempting to be dignified. “That does not… quench me of my hunger, I’m afraid.”

Despite every part of her intuition pleading her to not give in, she felt her limbs ease. She hadn’t simply forgiven him, but he sat there unguarded. Unprotected in a manner no single person at the campsite had ever observed.  

“So… you feed on animals? That doesn’t explain…”

He averted his eyes. “I won’t be saccharine about all of this. Every day I grow weaker, everyday it gets more and more difficult to fight beside you all and hide such ailments. Color me desperate.”

They both offered the other a weak laugh in near unison, like it was their individual responsibility to squash this heavy reality. Her mirth surprised Astarion though. She had no reason to spare him the quickened death of a dagger through his chest. The obvious answer was self-preservation. He found her hesitance almost more frightening.  

 “Miscommunication is going to kill you before that big bad man does…But, it seems my familiarity with vampirism isn’t riddled with tales of rabid monsters, after all,” she finally said in the midst of silence. Nervousness pinkened her cheeks, but she spoke with quiet, unexpected reassurance. “If I allow you to drink from me, will you feel better?”

His gaze intensified in its confusion. Every fiber of his being had subconsciously prepared itself for another infinite living death. There could be a stake planted deep against his ribcage. Withering starvation in unfamiliar forests. Everything his master had promised would happen upon his escape. The camp could rise up and make a spectacle of it. Why wouldn’t there be theatrics, even in death? It’d amuse everyone he’d left in Baldur’s Gate.

His lashes fluttered as he blinked away all the unholy thoughts. He was as alive as he could be, gathering what was left of his energy to sit up and appear cordial.

“Of course, dear. Not a drop more than what you are willing to give. Only consensual blood between traveling companions. I promise over your dead–my dead– Imagine a much more pleasant metaphor.”

Thomasin had begun to chew at the thin skin of her lip. Whilst her decision making never had the best track record, there was coziness in the unconventional path. Dangers had always felt more perilous than the man sitting before her. And so, she took a deep breath, as if releasing all of those logical worried feelings.

 By the gods, she hoped she wasn’t to regret this. Her parents must’ve been rolling in their assumed graves, surely. If only they could cover their eyes.

“Alright,” she whispered, slipping her blade back into its sheath. She shifted back and pulled her knees closer to her chest. “What should I do?”

Astarion's movements were slow. He'd slink around her to position himself behind, her shoulders encouraged to rest against his chest. The vampire never had the luxury of indulgence. Never an artery so willing and gifted. Centuries of punishment still tugged at his strings though.

  There was never anyone to teach him how this operated. How to properly feed upon a victim. Where to bite, how to ensure preservation, leeching life without the inevitable corpse left in its wake. 

Thomasin hadn't heard him speak a word since she granted him permission. Only his arm wrapping around her waist in support as he brushed aside long strands of hair. They ran down her clavicle, cascading like a curtain to reveal her neck. The mere sight awoke something feral in his brain. Some dying animal careening to its waterhole for sustenance. 

Suppressed enough to keep control. Remain in control. He wasn't uncouth, just thankful for the dim lighting. Gold filling to hide the hairline cracks in his pottery.

"Is this going to hurt badly?" she asked. Her hands found their way to the sleeve pressed against her abdomen. Seconds went by, no answer. Only the visible shift in her muscles as she tensed up. She heard his sharpened inhale.

"No, no, no. Just- Let yourself relax against me. I'll keep you steady."

"Is this good? What if you go on a count? I breathe in and out a few times? You think that'll help?"

His voice grew quiet, hurried yet somewhat consoling. 

“Yes, yes. It's only a pinch. A nick, even. Just…” His words trailed off, finding himself hesitating at the touch of her warm hand on his forearm. 

One, two-- and not another syllable more. 

Puncturing into flesh felt like the hissing of an unkempt fire. Dried kindling snapping and sparking against moisture in the air. She yelped. Muffled by her own bite, screwed tight to keep herself from squirming too hard. The wound in her neck pulsated in a way she'd never experienced, uncomfortable and siphoned. Excitement of the unknown had all but culminated into panic.

Thomsin’s nails dug into his shirt, fingers pawing at the linens and cold embrace. They searched for any semblance of safety. Through the creases and cuffed folds, landing at his wrist and forearm in search of relief. 

Unbeknownst to the half-elf, there was a deep seated desire to keep going. Something in her subconscious she hadn't acknowledged enough to decipher. Whatever it was, she knew she could endure. Using his arms as a brace, every scuffed gem and gold plated scratch made its own codex into his skin. If there was anything left of her, she'd leave a legacy behind somehow. 

Astarion's body writhed against her in pure unbridled instinct. One of his palms pressed up against Thomasin’s jawline to keep her in place, learning how to lead in this macabre dance. Never had the finer tastes in life been in such abundance. Firing up his senses and lighting every vein within him, his thirst quenched for the first time felt like newfound riches. His eyes had nearly glazed over until the sharp pain in his wrist brought him back. Thomasin's composure seemed to be crumbling.

Just as her jewels deepened their imprint, she felt him pause. He had pulled his head back. Only an inch or so. How she caught his attention was a miracle, he thought. Tongue coated in blackened blood, pooling to his lips with unabashed hedonism. Whether he'd revel in his deeds later were of no concern right now. 

"Please, keep counting, darling,” he managed to utter.

As he began once more, the pain that once seized her adapted, evolved. The half-elf felt herself venturing into a bloodless calm.  Hearts beating in near sync, quick to bypass one another. His aggravated fervor and her descent into the dirt. The oozing ebb and flow of building delirium. An amalgamation of every misstep and the bottles of whiskey that couldn’t quite wrap them in creature comforts.

And so, she did as she was told. Her body followed, creeping into a languid state, limp wrists and head rolling in any which direction he pleased. Back to counting. 

Two. Three. Four.

The numbers coinciding felt more like concepts than measurements.

Five. Six. Seven.

Internal dialogues had begun to devolve. Abstraction. It washed over her. Abrupt and startling like tumbling into a cold bath. Somewhere, contentment began to leak in. Whether it was the making of his presence or her own phantasms, mysteries for another day.

Eight. Nine. Ten.

Thomasin clutched onto him as a safety net. She ran her fingers along his clothing. Over every stitch, discovering mending and clinging to hidden patchwork. Every bump and valley. 

By now, the sounds of appetite and neglected vigor happening in her ear were fading into recollection. How his words always felt sticky with innuendo. Lines he must've told every living being that entered his vicinity. It was never as off-putting as she put forth though. She was drawn to the act, thankfully not always out of naivety.

Decades of elven living could spoil and sour even the most headstrong. Every dark alleyway, every social situation. Put under examination for survival. Erecting this statue of overconfidence often made the most sense. Even if she knew little of the gory details that crafted him, Thomasin sensed the act fizzling out.

She focused on sensations, careful to not get lost in every other countdown. The threads. The slowing of her heart beat. The amount of unsubstantial seconds that had gone by.

It beckoned her forward with warm euphoric dreams and brighter pasts, melding into undefined emotion deep within her chest. Color illustrations of bedtime stories and the sound of cobblestone walkways. Dust particles existing indefinitely against a window, evening light peering through. The knits of her favorite sweater and scents of perfume from close friends. 

The protective glow from oil street lamps and air bubbles popping in steins of beer. Fogged mirrors from hot baths and the way sounds muffled when sunk into a wooden tub. Stories told under the covers, fairytales to unfiltered confessions, until the magic illumination fell asleep too. 

These all lived in a hypothetical mist that rolled in, similar to early mornings of her childhood. Thickening, more of a fog. How they'd begun the exchange was unimportant. Details melting into something viscous. Consuming how the two had even met. 

Her fingers were still moving as far as she could understand. Coordination unsteady, but they lived with their own memories and habits. Operating as their own entities despite feeling the weight of the atmosphere weighing down on them. 

The repetitive motions. The color palette. The air. The pressure. The darkness.

Enveloping darkness.

“Stop,” she mumbled. “Please.” Words seemed warped from her lips, unsure she had even spoken them aloud. They felt incorporeal. Crawling towards what momentum was left.

Astarion noticed his eyes had adjusted to near pitch black.

 Her bulb of light had extinguished, blues and violets now deathly quiet. The seas livened and dulled over the course of what felt like hours for the two. A man coursing with vitality and adrenaline he had never fully endured feeling the shallow gasps for air in his arms. As much as Astarion wanted to celebrate, he cursed. Repeating them over and over, scooting backward to let her head lay in his lap. He slapped her cheek twice, printing her blood against her flesh in a hasty spattering. 

"C'mon, damn it. Now is not the time to be stubborn."

Each word tripped over another. He snapped his fingers over her shut eyes, suddenly noticing the thin red ribbons staining his hands and the drips collecting along her neck. Pathways and riverways intertwining, making their route down his arms and dying both of their clothing. He pressed his hand into her neck, hoping to calm the flow he had unleashed. After what he had consumed, anything trickling was important.

“Wake. Up.” He jostled her. “Don’t make me start asking gods for favors.”

Faint pulsing was felt beneath his bracing of her neck, but responses were absent. He couldn’t hold his gaze for long, seeing his own parallels across the young woman’s face in a way that stung. His focus darted about, looking for anything that could stop this escalation. A potion, a salve. A cleric deity with a worrying sense of humor.  

“I fear I may not be on good terms with them anyhow,” he half-heartedly joke, rummaging around until he spotted her backpack. Glass bottles clanking around in leather. Within a diamond shaped bottle glittered liquid he easily recognized. Commonly consumed among mortals for hangovers, bar fights, or the lucky escape from an owlbear. Healing minor injuries and illnesses in a foul swoop. Thomasin’s sickness was more dire than half a bottle, but it was more than enough to toast to.

“Aha, there you go. Watch your pretty little head.”

He tucked a pillow between his thigh and her head, creating elevation. Down came a gentle tug by the pad of his thumb. He pressed on her lower lip to part them and the elixir ran thin down her throat. 

It took a minute or so, but Thomasin’s eyes finally flickered, settling shut once more before her consciousness revved back up. Harsh, haggard, getting unceremoniously shoved back into the realm of the living. Where she lay with a veil of red strewn across her face and the soil smelling of iron richer than she remembered.

“Do you know how irritating these stains are going to be to get out?” Astarion said, taunting her, egging her on to get a single word. Expecting little reaction. 

Thomasin’s body suddenly flinched. A laugh. Still dazed, but somewhat responsive.

“That was nice though,” she whispered, nearly inaudible. 

Astarion’s ears perked up as he was prompt to pull a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the remains from her body. Wringing the tainted water into a bowl, applying fresh from her canteen, and persisting with a gentle touch.  

He watched as she gradually resigned to the cushion of her bedroll. He took his time, cleaning what was left of his feast. Being alone in such a bizarre twist of fate. He figured he’d appreciate the stillness, running his hand carefully along her cheek, stopping to try and identify patterns laid across her brow. A small series of shapes and probable letters that were almost entirely hidden by long fringe. The same color as her hair, although time and resistance had faded its ink a tinge. 

“Huh. Little rugged of a design for classical violin, don’t you think?”

 He twisted and tilted his head every which way, trying to figure out its meaning. “Artists.” He snickered, everything hitting him gradually. There was success in both his snark and of not committing murder. The absurdity of how his life path was now diverging. His jokes were all weightless though. No one to praise or scoff at him. Only silence making reality far more grounded than he liked.

He wiped his own face with the damp cloth, sneaking self-indulgent licks of what was left on his forearm. It was only then he realized he was shaking a little, but in the dead night, it was a vulnerability he could conceal. Away from judgemental eyes. The solace in that alone tickled him.

In the darkness, he dragged Thomasin’s quilt over her, stopping just above the waist.  Distracted by the way her body gently rose and fell, rickety but alive. He left her partially uncovered, but respectfully settled at the furthest end of her small tent to keep an eye on her. Making the best of his sleeping quarters was child’s play at this point. Curled up, knees to his chest as he’d spent many nights in cold chambers.

Astarion rubbed his forehead. Emotions in intense situations had become muddled and hard to identify over the years. Perhaps it was amusement. Fatigue, relief,  mild disbelief. Fed. 

“By the fucking hells.”

[chorizontal]

A Year in Film: How Four Movies Helped Me Understand Being Sick

It’s so important in this life to be aware that whatever you think your personal rock bottom is, there is another, deeper, rockier bottom lurking beneath it. I started the year with resolutions to have a more fulfilling year- believing life couldn’t get any worse than 2023. The linear conception of time will fuck you, embrace anarchy or pay the price.

One of my resolutions for a fulfilling year was to build on a project I had been calling ‘Film Homework’ and watch more movies. Film Homework was really born out of social pressure. When you’re 15 and obsessed with Step Up 2 it might be charming; when you’re 28 and people can’t even talk about Star Wars without being met by your vacant stare, you’re a blight on most small talk. I know about TV, but pathologically binge watching TV isn’t impressive, it’s not something people do when they’re well. Try looking someone in the eye and telling them you watched all 6 seasons of Glee in 3 weeks, in 2022 no less. So I started a list: Every time someone would mention a film I hadn’t seen, or I saw someone post about a film they’d enjoyed, or a list of “50 movies you HAVE to see before you die” I would jot it down. Since I started this project in July 2023, I have watched 209 films from the list. 

Sideshow Bob with his infinite supply of rakes underfoot would look at the year I’ve had and count his blessings. For better or worse, this year has been defined by my relationship to my illness. Between January to May, I built a life for myself where my POTS was well managed. This was rapidly undone when I was reinfected with Covid in May. Since then, I have been largely housebound. Coupled with being made redundant, this has facilitated a commitment to films typically reserved for the worst man you’ve ever met in your life. In full sincerity, Film Homework has changed my life. I am changed by the films I’ve seen and my world is expanded with each one I watch. Four films in particular have stayed with me this year: Melancholia, La Chimera, Miracle Worker, and Angels in America. Since watching them I haven’t been able to put them down, in my quieter moments I find myself revisiting a particular scene or dialogue, or stewing over a character’s decisions. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they all touched the part of me that seeks to understand my disability. 

Melancholia (2011)

Lars Von Trier’s Melancholia was a great idea, poorly executed. The movie, which begins by showing a world ending collision with a meteor, examines the different coping mechanisms of a family in the days before disaster. Kirsten Dunst, whose performance of depression was so visceral I could feel her ennui setting into my bones through sheer osmosis, is indifferent to it. Her sister’s husband intellectualises the event to feel control. Her sister plans to kill herself and her child. In the end (SPOILER), the husband ends up being the one who kills himself. The rest of the family die by meteor.

My lifetime of finely honed depression meant I responded to the pandemic’s arrival in much the same way as Kirsten Dunst’s character. Which is not to say that I coped with it well, but that I was resigned to my inability to control it. My main worry was that I was at risk for Long Covid. This was borne out in 2021, when I got a mild bout of Covid and never got better. I have since been diagnosed with POTS, which sits under the Long Covid umbrella. There’s a grim relief to being able to look your worst case scenario in the eye. I don’t have to worry that Long Covid will come knocking for me because she’s let herself into my house: She's sitting on my lungs when I try to climb the stairs; forming a fog in my brain when I try to read; ringing in my ears when I’ve been standing upright too long. I can’t get her to leave, she’s moved in and now I have to get used to her. The moral of the story? If the meteor is going to hit you, why not resign to total dissociated depression and then see if there are any pieces left to pick up in the aftermath. Or something.

La Chimera (2023)

I feel like I exist separate from time. Somewhere along the way I got knocked out of the continuum and if I reach out I can touch it but I can’t step back into it. Chronic illness necessitates a different approach to time. Thinking about the past involves grieving while expectations of the future tend to bring anxiety and disappointment. It’s healthiest for me to take each day as it comes. Alice Rohrwacher’s La Chimera is a beautifully shot film that follows Josh O’Connor as he uses his unusual supernatural ability to find graves to help a group of grave robbers in Italy. He is haunted by the death of his ex-girlfriend and is constantly searching for her through time, inching ever closer to death. At one point, just before the robbers break into a perfectly preserved grave, you see the inside of the crypt, with its walls covered in vibrantly coloured paintings. As the lid is lifted and light touches the paintings, the colours immediately dull and become old. Sometimes, when I’m at my most housebound, I feel like I’m in that crypt and I’m perfectly preserved and the outside can’t reach me and each day passes and the next one comes and I am untouched by what is new. And then I am reminded that time is still passing for everyone outside and they are changing and then my lid lifts a little and the light touches me and suddenly my colours are fading and I am still the same but I’m not anymore, I am different if only by virtue of my response to this new context. I am worn and I am not vibrant and I am out of step with a world that moves without me and as I write this I am thinking about how it’s a really good thing I’ve pledged to find a therapist before the new year.

Miracle Worker (1962)

Sometimes a film will make me feel so much that my chest hurts. I have flashes of thoughts and feelings but they’re gone as fast as they appear, replaced by this feeling like the very molecules that make me whole are clashing into each other, creating enough kinetic energy to burst right out my skin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell whether this movie was good or not. I know I did not enjoy it. Arthur Penn’s Miracle Worker tells the true story of Helen Keller’s childhood growing up deaf and blind. At the start of the film, she is shown to be nearly feral as her parents have given up any attempt to discipline her. It is not until they hire a Nanny- herself disabled- that Helen is treated as a child with agency. The film raises questions about the line between discipline and abuse, the importance of disabled community, the damage caused by the infantilisation of disabled people, and the interaction between class and disability. 

Disabled Community (voluntary): a group of people who share a common approach to disability, recognise shared experiences, and advocate for collective empowerment. Disabled Community (involuntary): everyone who’s ever existed and their opinions on your health. I try to explain my illness and before I know it I am defending myself and justifying my actions. I worry about whether the new person I’ve met will believe something they can’t see, or if I’ll ever be able to do a job I enjoy that is also willing to meet my access needs. I want to lay myself bare, split myself open and watch all the symptoms pour out of me, have these invisible manifestations of a faulty nervous system become visible. I want to be understood totally, I want you to feel in your heart how hard every day is for me, but I don’t want my need for support to be mistaken for ceding agency. I feel like I’m in a nightmare where I’m trying to scream but I can’t find the air in my lungs and my head hurts and I haven’t figured out I’m in a nightmare yet so I’m just trying and trying and no sound will come out and I’m so afraid but I can’t get anyone else to understand how scared I am because I can’t make a sound. I can feel all the words in my chest and I’m so upset and any second now I’m going to try so hard to scream that I’ll force myself awake and I’ll say to myself “oh that was just a nightmare”.

Angels in America (2003)

Mike Nichols’ Angels in America is a film/miniseries adaptation of Tony Kushner's play by the same name. The story is set during the AIDS crisis, centring themes of community, freedom, and loss. Like The Miracle Worker, Angels in America left me feeling like emotional popcorn, each intense, fleeting feeling its own kernel. If I try to focus on any one part of the film, I find myself returning to the character of Louis. Louis made me want to scream at the screen. He made me want to text my friends like he was someone we knew. In fact, Louis, who is full of left wing ideals that he expounds constantly, is in this sense indistinguishable from any left wing man you might meet at an after party. Louis is filled with guilt because his ideals are at odds with his desire for an individual freedom without consequences. He wants freedom to be divorced from the responsibility of community and those he loves, and to be supported for making these choices. For me, Louis’ character represents the left’s ongoing issues with ableism and crip solidarity. Particularly solidarity that requires a perceived impingement on individual freedom, something that is increasingly framed as a kind of right that supersedes collective liberation. 

Louis fears true love and feels that love is a burdensome responsibility. On the contrary, I have never known love, care, and community like I have since becoming disabled. Often, when I’m engaging in hypothetical bargaining exercises in the marketplace of awful coping mechanisms, I’ll wonder about what life could have been like if I hadn’t become disabled. Would I trade an able body if it meant losing everything I have now? I don’t think I could. Even housebound my life is so much richer than it was before I got sick. I am so much closer to people who know me and love me exactly as I am and to understanding myself and my commitment to my politics. Individualistic freedom without consequence is a myth, we should not strive for it and we certainly shouldn’t believe it is our right. Our ties are the path to collective liberation. We owe so much to each other. 

[gillianthecat]

Honestly, the relationship I'm most interested in right now is Joe1's with Joe2's mother. This orphan boy suddenly gets a mom! Except that she thinks he's someone else and he has to pretend to be that other person. Joe1's entire personality is based around his loneliness and his desire to have someone and now he's been dropped into this loving home but he's still all alone in it. There is so much there! And I feel like Poom is conveying these complicated feelings with his body language. But i suspect the show won't really explore it :-/

My Stand In... is not working for me as much as i would like it too. There are a lot of interesting threads, the cinematography is beautiful, and my adoration of Up has expanded to include Poom, but it feels underwritten to me. I want to love these characters, but I'm finding the behind the scenes clips more compelling. Ming is so awful and fucked up and I wish they would really just embrace that and go full out thriller/horror story. (Maybe the will! Like I said, I haven't read the synopsis. But currently it feels like it's trying to be romance.)

Poom and Up are both good actors, and I enjoying watching them, but neither are quite good enough to overcome the limitations of the script and make their characters fully coherent. (I am pleasantly surprised by Poom, who looks like Pond to me so I mentally placed him in the pretty-but-can't-act slot. But he's very nuanced and expressive! Not convincing as a stunt double though lol.) I don't feel like they have tons of chemistry, which actually works for me so far, because their relationship in Joe1's lifetime was built on assumptions, pretending and ignoring reality. They were playacting a relationship, not actually in one. I don't know if that was a deliberate choice, and they will show better chemistry if/when they fall in love for real, but it kudos to everyone for that subtlety if they do. Everything about their first encounter was perfect.

Are we going to get any explanation as to why Ming is the way he is? Because I love him, but nursing an unrequited crush on his sister's famous boyfriend, even through 4 years on an entirely different continent, is not an explanation for his behavior, merely a symptom of whatever the hell else is going on. And I really wish (hope) we get a chance to dig into that mess. Up can carry it.

[dark-fuckprincess]

I think for my fanfic in the next little romantic scene I write between the two lovebirds I'm gonna expand the idea of gender in both societies. The warrior society of the sisters of battle (think a lesbian version of spartans where they just love women and femininity and softness and beauty but also a very ruthless type of violence. Like the worst war crimes you've ever seen as an open and normalized thing. They have insane sex lives), and then also the Dark Eldar who I think are majority genderless but maybe have a strong cultural aspect of performing gender in the ways that their traditional gods do.

But for most people I don't think the concepts of "man" and "woman" hold much if any material weight and hrt/surgeries are super easily accessible. I also think Eldar are not an especially sexually dimorphic species but of course have human genitalia (typically, though the bad dragon horse pussy option does tend to be super popular) because I'm horny and I wanna write goth elves fuck (hence, the horse pussy also). Also everyone is a massive lesbo even though the conditions for what we understand as lesbians probably wouldn't exist just let me masturbate ok

It's only been like a few lifetimes since the birth of Slaanesh and the fracturing of previous Eldar societies, so I think at least in my version arts around culture and faith are a very popular thing amongst high society. It's not all torture and murder and crime and sexual impopriety. The daily lives of a Drukhari noble I imagine is quite opulent and founded on cruelty but maybe still recognizable to us as filled with normal person activities with maybe some freak shit on the side. I really like exploring the mundane sides of some of these people's lives in the 40k universe. I think I might want to explore some sort of softness within Drukhari culture and sort of the buried sadness and isolation that I imagine that type of life might bring with the threat of Slaanesh and living in sort of a failing civilization.

Also they have sex with all the exotic species of alien and animals they capture ✨️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45059929/chapters/113356825

The link ^

[emrowene]

☕️ Cats (2019)

Okay well the first thing you need to know about me is that I have a pin-up Rum Tum Tugger tattooed on my thigh.

The second thing you need to know is that I've seen Cats (2019) at least ten times. I saw it twice in theaters.

Do not mistake me: that does not mean I like it. However, I do think it's a cultural monument. I think everyone should have to watch it at least once in their lifetimes. And then they should go watch the Sideways video about Cats. And then they should watch the movie again.

The first thoughts re: Cats (2019) that come to mind:

Oh god what did they do to tuggoffelees

While the choice to expand Victoria's role was HORRIBLE, I think her voice is cute and I will fight people on this

The only song I like BETTER in the movie as opposed to the 1998 recording is Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Though the actual visuals accompanying the song in the movie were baffling

This one's a follow-up to the last one: the scaling in this movie is WILD. Is it a ring Victoria gets around her neck in that scene? Or a bracelet? Why are the cockroaches so big?

I own the human hands version! It's very unsettling.

I think that maybe Idris Elba's fur should have been a different color.

Catnip-induced orgy followed by Taylor Swift's dramatic feline descent from the ceiling was a choice

I don't know how Jason Derulo took a character with so much inherent top energy and turned him into That

Glad they had the sense to cut the eleven minute Growltiger song

Too much erotic face nuzzling