#and the synth beat really feels pulsing

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

This is one of those nerdy things but listening to some of Taylor’s albums with headphones makes some of the mixing really shine and turn it into a different, immersive experience 🤌

[cybrsan]

Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!” 

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.  

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place,  and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice. 

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century. 

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics. 

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll." 

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.  

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part." 

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet. 

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward." 

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness.  “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.” 

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. 

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city. 

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room. 

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”  

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!” 

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!” 

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one. 

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink. 

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.” 

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.” 

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”  

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at. 

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss. 

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?” 

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you. 

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.” 

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell. 

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.” 

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds. 

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean. 

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips. 

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited. 

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled. 

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat. 

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt. 

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you. 

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you. 

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. 

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. 

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?” 

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.” 

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well. 

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.” 

Blushing, you say, “You choose.” 

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over. 

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.” 

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.    

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock. 

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.” 

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop. 

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out. 

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force. 

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.” 

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank. 

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin. 

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs. 

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime. 

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.  

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.” 

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin. 

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” 

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.” 

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look. 

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.” 

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.” 

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.” 

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!” 

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit. 

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.” 

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces. 

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…” 

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

[tiiraameesu]

The One That Got Away Pt. 2

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

PART ONE

Synopsisજ⁀➴ Gojo is a charismatic college student, known for his carefree approach to relationships, never letting things get too serious. You are his longtime best friend and have quietly harbored feelings for him but never acted on them, knowing Gojo’s aversion to commitment. But when Gojo shares an unexpected connection with another girl, the dynamics between them start to shift. As the lines blur between friendship and something more, you are left grappling with your emotions—unsure of whether you'll be able to stay by Gojo’s side, or if it’s time to move on.

tagsજ⁀➴ college au, hockey player!gojo, band member!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual friends to lovers (maybe), gojo is dumb af

NOTESજ⁀➴ hi everyone! here's the next chapter of TOTGA ❀ to stay updated with new chapter releases, you can follow the tag #tiiraameesuTOTGA, or leave a comment below to be added to the tagline♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

wcજ⁀➴ 7.8k

taglineજ⁀➴ @kaemaybae @laviefantasie

The practice room was a blur of noise—normally something you’d lose yourself in, but today, it felt distant. The hum of the synthesizer, the steady beat of Choso’s drums, the rhythmic pluck of Nanami’s bass—they all blended together into background noise. You weren’t really hearing any of it.

Your fingers dragged across the strings, the notes flat and hollow as you strummed through the song again. The chords meant nothing, and you didn’t even know why you were still holding the guitar.

Iori’s voice cut through the music, soft and steady, but it barely registered. Naoya, hunched over his equipment to your left, twisted knobs and layered beats into the track with quick, precise movements. The flashing lights of his console pulsed, but the sound was just another thing happening in a vacuum—detached and distant.

Your thoughts drifted, tangled in the events of last night.

Gojo, his laughter echoing above the party’s music. Gojo, dancing with Mina like it was the most natural thing in the world. Gojo, pulling her close, his hands on her waist.

And then the kiss.

The memory hit you like a crashing cymbal. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was passionate, intentional—the kind you’d only ever dreamed of sharing with him. It was the kind that told you exactly where you stood: on the outside, looking in.

Your fingers faltered on the strings, and the wrong chord echoed sharply, cutting through the music like a wrong note on a piano.

Iori stopped singing, turning to you immediately. “Hey, you okay?”

You flinched, realizing everyone was now looking at you. “Yeah, sorry. Just slipped up,” you said quickly, trying to adjust your grip on the guitar.

Iori frowned, her dark eyes soft with concern. She set her microphone down, resting her hand on her hip. “You’ve been off all morning,” she said gently. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, your voice tight.

Iori didn’t press further, though the look she gave you said she knew there was more. She straightened, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Alright, everyone, let’s take five before we start the next round,” she said, her voice light but firm enough to get the others moving.

The band began to disperse, Choso heading to grab water, Yu fiddling with his synth settings, and Naoya muttering something under his breath as he checked his laptop. Nanami leaned his bass against the wall and quietly stepped outside, likely for some air.

You made a beeline for the couch, slumping against it with a sigh. The soft cushions were a brief reprieve from the weight sitting heavy on your chest. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, only to be greeted by a flood of notifications.

Gojo.

You hadn’t replied to his last five attempts to contact you, each message growing more puzzled, more curious. The first few had been typical Gojo banter. Then the messages started asking if you were okay. By the fifth, there was a shift—an underlying concern.

"Is everything okay?"

You could practically hear his voice in your head. His obliviousness, the way he never thought twice about things that might actually matter to someone else. Part of you wanted to throw your phone across the room just to stop seeing his name pop up again. But you didn’t. Instead, you sent a simple reply back, not giving him anything he could really latch onto.

"Busy with band practice. Catch you later."

It was the perfect excuse. You were always "busy." With the band. With your gig. It was enough to get him off your back, for now.

You threw your phone down on the couch, face down, determined not to let Gojo’s messages ruin this moment. As much as everything about him felt like an ache you couldn’t ignore, you wouldn’t let it distract you.

Time seemed to fly during the short break, but soon Iori’s voice cut through the silence as she clapped to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get back to it. From the top, everyone!”

You lifted your guitar, the weight familiar in your hands. You should’ve been able to just lose yourself in the music, but today wasn’t one of those days.

The first few bars went smoothly, and for a moment, you thought you were breaking through the fog. But then the chorus hit, and everything fell apart. Your fingers faltered, the sound wrong, the chords foreign. The song didn’t flow, like trying to speak a language you once knew but had forgotten.

The music grew hollow, pulling your mind back to Gojo—his carefree laugh, that damn kiss. You thought of the way Mina had melted into his arms, the kiss that had felt so natural. It wasn’t supposed to hurt, but it did. Each thought dug deeper.

The worst part? You couldn’t even make yourself hate him for it.

Your fingers froze on the strings. Another missed note.

“Stop.”

Naoya’s voice sliced through the tension in the room, louder than the failed chord ringing in the air. “What the hell was that?”

You looked up, startled by the sudden harshness in his tone. Naoya’s eyes were fixed on you, brows furrowed, his lips curling in a scowl. The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist, a feeling of unease creeping up your spine.

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. It was obvious you hadn’t been playing your best, but the sting of his words made you defensive.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snapped, stepping closer, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. “You’re distracted, and it’s fucking up the whole song. This isn’t the time to be spacing out. We have a gig coming up, remember? This is supposed to be our shot.”

You could feel your chest tightening, the weight of his criticism hanging in the air. You didn’t want to feel this way—not with Naoya. He was always blunt, but something about the bite in his words felt like a punch to the gut.

“Give it a rest, Naoya,” Iori’s voice cut in, her tone quieter but still firm. “We all know she’s having a rough time today. Lay off.”

But Naoya wasn’t having it. He shot her a quick glance, then turned back to you, his expression hardening. “She’s having a rough time?” he repeated, his voice rising. “We all have rough times, but we still show up and do our part. This is important, and you—” He pointed at you, his finger trembling with frustration. “—are holding us back.”

Your fingers tightened around the neck of your guitar, a dull thrum of anger mixing with the frustration already brewing inside you. How could he possibly understand?

Naoya’s words hit you harder than they should have, stinging deep into a part of you that you couldn’t ignore. Your grip on the guitar tightened as if it could somehow steady the storm brewing inside you.

“You’re holding us back,” Naoya repeated, his voice sharp like a knife. “We can’t afford to have you slacking off, not now.”

Yu, who had been mostly silent up until that point, shifted uncomfortably. He adjusted the dial on his synth, casting a glance at the rest of the band before speaking up. “Naoya, maybe dial it back a bit, yeah? We all know she’s not in the best headspace, but yelling isn’t gonna help anyone.” His words weren’t defensive of you, but they weren’t exactly in Naoya’s corner either.

Choso, seated behind his drums, tapped one of the cymbals lightly with his stick before speaking in his usual low, rumbling voice. “We all have our days, man. Doesn’t help to turn this into a fight. Just play the damn song.”

But Naoya wasn’t ready to back down. He narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening in frustration. “You two are just gonna let this slide? We’re on the edge of something big, and she’s acting like she doesn’t care. She’s messing up, and it’s dragging us all down.”

You could feel the heat of his words burning through you. The anger swelled in your chest, mixing with the ache in your heart that you’d been trying to ignore. What right did he have to criticize you when he didn’t know what was really going on?

“Maybe if you didn’t make everything sound like the end of the world, I’d be able to focus,” you snapped, voice cold and sharp, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Naoya’s eyes flashed with irritation, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other. His lips curled into a sneer. “Yeah? Well, maybe if you actually gave a damn about this band, you’d stop fucking around. You think your problems are more important than the rest of us?” His words were venomous, laced with anger and something deeper—something raw.

But before either of you could escalate it any further, a voice rang out, clear and authoritative.

“Enough.”

The sharpness of Nanami’s tone cut through the tension in the room, freezing everyone in place. All eyes turned to him as he stepped forward, his expression unamused but not angry—more like someone who was simply done with the drama.

“Naoya, you’ve said your piece,” Nanami continued, his voice calm but heavy with authority. “Now shut it. This isn’t helping anyone. And you,” he continued, not softening his voice, but not harsh either, “stop letting whatever’s going on in your head mess with this. We’re all here for the same thing. If you’re going to be here, then be here. Focus.”

The weight of his words settled on you. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t trying to drag either of you further into this mess. He just spoke like it was a simple matter of fact.

“This isn’t the time for personal drama,” Nanami added, his tone still clear but without a trace of malice. "We’ve got a gig to prepare for. Get it together."

The room fell silent. Naoya, though still visibly irritated, seemed to recognize the finality in Nanami’s words and stopped pushing. You took a breath, your chest feeling a little lighter. Nanami wasn’t sugarcoating anything, but he wasn’t piling on either. He was just being direct, reminding you all of why you were here in the first place.

Yu and Choso exchanged glances, both of them letting out quiet sighs of relief. The tension was still there, but it was more manageable now.

The silence hung in the room for a moment longer before Nanami broke it with a more relaxed, but still authoritative tone. "Alright, take a 15-minute break," he said, his eyes scanning the band. "Everyone take a step back, get your nerves settled. We’ll come back to this in a bit, but it’s clear we need to cool off before we get back into it."

There was a collective sigh of relief. Yu and Choso both took a step back, leaning against the wall and quietly talking amongst themselves. Iori fiddled with her mic stand, clearly giving the rest of you space, while Naoya just stood there, his posture stiff, but he didn’t say anything else.

You didn’t wait for the others to move. With your nerves still frazzled, you found the couch and collapsed onto it, running a hand over your face. You hadn’t even realized how tight your jaw had been until you released the tension with a soft exhale. Your mind was racing with everything that had been said, and despite the anger you felt bubbling beneath the surface, it was all a bit much.

Instinctively, your hand reached for your phone. You unlocked it without really thinking, the screen lighting up in the dim room. There was a missed call from Gojo. You cursed softly under your breath. The last thing you wanted was to talk to him right now—not with everything that had been going on. But you couldn’t deny the pull to hear his voice, even if the sting of seeing him kiss Mina still burned in the back of your mind.

Without thinking much further, you pressed “Call.”

The moment his voice came through the speaker, a part of you immediately softened. “Hey, hey! Finally pickin’ up, huh?” Gojo’s voice was a little more hyper than you’d expected, as if he was bouncing off the walls, and for a second, it caught you off guard.

“I was startin’ to think you’d forgotten about me or something!” he continued with a playful pout. “You left the party early last night, no goodbye, no nothing. What’s up with that? Did you not like my dancing or was the music not up to your standards?” He chuckled, as if teasing you, completely unaware of the unease swirling inside you.

You swallowed hard, forcing a light, breezy laugh. It’s fine, you told yourself, trying to shake off the knot in your stomach. It doesn’t matter. Just act normal.

“Ah, you know how it is,” you said, your voice coming out a little too bright, a little too cheery. You could practically hear the smile you were trying to fake. “I wasn’t feeling the best, you know how I can be with loud crowds.” You even threw in a little chuckle for good measure, hoping it’d cover up the sting that still lingered in your chest.

But Gojo didn’t pick up on the forced tone, of course. He never did.

“Aww, that’s a shame,” he said, his voice playful. “I thought you were having a good time! You should’ve told me, I would’ve saved you a dance. You know, I’m the best dancer at those things. You really missed out.” There was a cocky grin in his voice, and it made you want to roll your eyes even though you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

You sat back on the couch, trying to focus on Gojo's teasing, but your mind kept drifting back to the images of him with Mina. The playful tone of his voice almost seemed to mock the knot in your stomach, and no matter how hard you tried to push it down, you couldn't shake the way your chest tightened at the thought of them together.

With a quiet sigh, you leaned forward, your phone still pressed to your ear.

"Well, I didn't plan on staying all night, anyways," you said, trying to keep your voice light. "You know me—crowds and I don't always get along."

Gojo’s laughter rang through the phone, a little louder than before. "Next time, I’ll save you a dance," he teased. "You missed out, for real."

You chuckled softly, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, next time,” you repeated, trying to keep the lightness in your tone, even though your mind immediately flashed back to the sight of Gojo dancing so close to Mina. The way he moved with her, effortlessly, the chemistry between them so obvious—it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t ignore.

Stop it, you thought to yourself. It’s none of your business. You’re just being dramatic.

But no matter how hard you tried to shake it, the image lingered. You couldn’t help but picture him spinning Mina around, laughing, his hand low on her back, pulling her in close. There was something so… easy about the way they were together. So natural.

Gojo, however, didn’t seem to notice the shift in your mood. He was too busy playing the charming fool, oblivious as always.

You stood up slowly, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts, and made your way to the door.

As you walked toward the door, the sounds of the studio felt distant, like you were drifting away from them, seeking the brief peace of the hallway.

But then, just before you stepped out completely, you heard Naoya's voice from inside the studio. It was low, almost under his breath, but sharp enough to catch your attention.

"Yeah, maybe if you spent as much time on your notes as you do chatting on the phone, we wouldn’t be here all day," he muttered, the words barely loud enough for you to ignore, but sharp enough to get under your skin.

You froze, your hand on the door handle.

A surge of irritation bubbled up inside you, but you forced it down, knowing it wasn’t worth responding. You didn’t have time to get caught up in one of his petty comments, especially not now.

With a quick glance back at the studio, you let out a quiet breath and stepped outside, closing the door gently behind you. You leaned against the wall, just for a moment of peace—just enough to breathe. Gojo’s voice was a stark contrast to the tense silence of the studio, his words carefree and oblivious to everything that had been bubbling under the surface.

“So, are we still on for later?” he asked, completely unaware of the knot still sitting in your chest. “You know, after practice like usual? I thought we could grab dinner or something—at the convenience store. You in?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The last thing you wanted to do right now was spend time with Gojo, especially after everything that happened last night. But despite the hesitation, the thought of seeing his face, the way his smile always managed to make everything feel lighter, pulled at you.

You could already imagine his playful grin, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, and the stupid, unexplainable flutter in your stomach every time he spoke to you.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice sounding a little too quiet, a little too unsure. But you pushed it down. “I’m in. I’ll see you after practice, okay?”

“Great!” Gojo’s cheer was immediate and overly enthusiastic, like you’d just agreed to go on an all-expenses-paid vacation with him. “I’ll be there in thirty. That should line up with when you’re done, right? I know your schedule better than you do.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping across your lips. “Stalker much, Satoru?”

“Am not! M’just a great best friend.” He replied and you could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. “Anyways, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be ready to bask in my greatness.”

“Sure, can’t wait,” you said dryly, though his excitement chipped away some of the tension still lingering in your chest.

The call ended with a playful beep, leaving you alone with the soft hum of the hallway. You tucked your phone into your pocket, inhaling deeply before making your way back to the practice room.

You took one last deep breath, steadying yourself as you pushed open the door to the practice room. The chatter and clatter of everyone getting ready for another round immediately filled your ears, the energy in the room buzzing as usual.

Naoya caught sight of you as you stepped in. His eyes narrowed briefly, the usual smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, look who finally decided to rejoin us,” he said with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “I figured you’d still be out there, busy on your phone with your friend, instead of keeping up with your notes like you should.”

You clenched your jaw, the irritation from earlier creeping back. Before you could open your mouth to retort, Iori, who had been nearby, shot a sharp jab to Naoya's side, sending him stumbling a little.

“Knock it off, Naoya,” Iori muttered, her voice low but firm. “Not everyone spends their whole life under a microscope like you.”

Naoya shot her an irritated look, but Iori’s usual no-nonsense attitude had managed to shut him up for the moment.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. As much as you hated to admit it, you appreciated Iori’s timing.

Just then, Nanami glanced up from where he’d been tuning his guitar, his gaze turning toward you with that calm, almost calculating look he always had. “Ready for another round?” he asked, his voice steady and even. His presence had a way of grounding you, always somehow making things feel just a bit more manageable.

You nodded quickly, your breath steadying as you mentally prepared for another round of practice. "Yeah," you said, your voice coming out a bit breathy but confident. You grabbed your guitar, adjusting the strap over your shoulder. The familiar weight of it brought you back to your element, where everything else faded into the background.

Nanami, bass in hand, gave you a small, reassuring nod as his fingers started to slide over the strings. The deep, rich tones of the bass filled the room, grounding everything, and Iori, standing front and center with her mic, was already singing a few warm-up notes under her breath.

Choso, behind the drums, cracked his knuckles before taking his seat. He glanced your way, offering a brief smile before letting the sticks rest lightly in his hands, ready to hit the snare. Yu, standing by his synthesizer, was already tapping at the keys, humming along quietly to himself as he adjusted the sound levels. Naoya, being Naoya, was fiddling with his DJ equipment, testing out the next track or whatever his role was this time.

As always, you were the one to bring the electric spark to the group. You adjusted your fingers over the strings of your guitar, a sense of focus washing over you as the rest of the band began to sync. Maybe it was hearing his voice just now, or maybe just the familiarity of the music, but it felt a bit easier to let go now. The chaos of the day and the undercurrent of frustration faded as your hands moved over the fretboard.

Iori caught your eye for a brief second and, with her usual fiery energy, nodded toward you. She shot a quick wink as she raised her mic. "You ready, guitar hero?" she teased, her voice still smooth as silk, but with that playful edge you were all too familiar with.

You gave her a small grin and strummed a chord. "Yeah, let's do this."

Nanami's bass throbbed, the beat of Choso's drums kicked in, and Yu’s synth melodies began to echo through the room. Naoya hit the button on his DJ equipment, the crisp sound of beats layering over the instruments as the song began to take shape.

With a few final adjustments, you let your fingers fly across the fretboard, the strings vibrating with each strum. Music filled the air, and for that brief moment, everything outside of the band—the tension, the distractions, the stress—vanished. The only thing that mattered now was the sound.

The music built steadily, each layer blending effortlessly with the next. Nanami’s bass pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and sure, while Choso’s drumming added sharp, driving energy. Yu’s synths shimmered in, wrapping around the melody, and Naoya’s samples wove through it all, giving the track its signature edge. Iori’s voice soared above the instrumental, smooth and steady, like it had always been meant to blend with the rest. You leaned into the groove, the guitar feeling like an extension of yourself, as if the music was pulling you forward with every note.

When the last notes faded, silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft hum of the equipment. The band had done well today. And for the first time, the guitar had felt right, the strings humming under your fingertips, as if they were just a little more in tune with you than they had been before.

You didn’t think you’d played it perfectly—there were still moments where you stumbled, where your fingers missed a beat, or the rhythm wasn’t quite right—but it felt like you were getting closer. Maybe it was the focus you had finally found, or maybe it was the call with Gojo that had calmed your nerves, but your playing had finally come with a little more ease. For once, you felt like you could actually breathe while playing, instead of getting caught up in the pressure and self-doubt.

“Well done, everyone,” Iori said, her voice bright as always. She flashed a grin your way, nodding with approval. “That sounded killer.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Yu added, his voice soft but content. He adjusted his headphones, his fingers tapping out a rhythm against the synth keys, a gesture of satisfaction. “We’re getting there.”

Choso, pulling himself out of his seat, stretched his arms above his head before chiming in. “I think this is it. We just need a bit more polish,” he said, his tone casual but upbeat. “Great work today, though.”

Nanami gave you a brief, silent nod as he packed away his bass, his expression calm but pleased. It was rare for him to show much outward emotion, but you could tell he was satisfied.

Iori grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, looking toward the door. “Well, I’m off. Got plans with the crew later,” she said, giving you a wink before heading toward the hall. Yu followed shortly after, adjusting his jacket with a content sigh. “Same here. See you at the next rehearsal,” he said with a smile, his voice still carrying that laid-back ease. Choso stood, picking up his drumsticks and slinging his bag across his shoulder. “Bye,” he said simply, before heading out the door.

Nanami was the last to leave, offering you another silent nod before grabbing his own things and following the others down the hall.

The usual warmth of the band lingered in the room, but the energy shifted the moment they were gone. The chatter of their plans faded as the door clicked shut behind them, and the room felt quieter, more still.

As you reached for your bag, you heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind you. You turned, expecting to see Naoya packing up, but instead, he was still standing near his DJ setup, his eyes locked on the equipment in front of him, his posture tense.

Naoya’s posture was rigid as he leaned against the DJ equipment, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His usual smug expression had been replaced with something sharper, his eyes narrowed as he took you in. His voice cut through the silence, harder than you expected.

“Honestly, it’s hard to take you seriously when you can’t even pull it together for a gig that actually matters. Are you even all in on this band, or is this just some hobby for you?” Each word came out tight, like it was a challenge you weren’t quite ready for.

Your chest tightened. His words stung more than you'd like to admit, especially after everything. You stood there, waiting for him to keep going, unsure if the barb was meant to break through your tough exterior or if it was just his frustration spilling out.

But then, something in his posture shifted. The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh. The harshness melted away as he spoke again, softer this time, his eyes losing that sharpness. "Look... I just wanted this gig to be our big break," he said, his voice quieter, laced with something you hadn't expected: real frustration, but also a hint of desperation. "We’ve been grinding for months to get noticed, trying to make something out of this. You know how important this is to the band, and to me." His gaze softened just a bit, like he was trying to make you understand without saying too much.

He paused, running a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against his forehead in an almost tired gesture. "I just… don’t want to mess this up. Not now. We can’t afford to fall short, especially now that we’ve got a real shot at making it big."

His eyes flickered briefly, and for a second, you saw that familiar wall of stubbornness break down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the person behind it—the one who was just as worried about everything falling apart as you were. He exhaled deeply, then added, quieter than before, "I just want this to work. I want the band to finally get the recognition we deserve. That’s all."

You could see it in the way his shoulders slumped, in the slight softness in his gaze—he wasn’t just angry, he was invested. This wasn’t just about you being off tonight. This was about the band, about him putting everything he had into something that had the potential to change everything.

Naoya let the silence settle between you for a moment before he gave a small, almost resigned nod. "Just... don’t make me regret it, alright?" And with that, he turned, not waiting for a response, but his voice had lost its bite. It was still firm, but it carried an unspoken weight—he was hoping you'd understand.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the weight of his words. The sharpness of his earlier jabs still echoed in your chest but hearing the shift in his tone—hearing the real concern beneath his frustration—left you at a loss for words.

You couldn’t deny the pressure. You’d felt it too, the stakes of this gig, how important it was for the band. But his harsh words still stung, especially after everything that had happened. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat.

After a moment of silence, you let out a slow breath. “I’m not trying to mess this up, Naoya,” you said, your voice steady, though there was a tightness in your chest. "I know how much this means to all of us." You met his gaze, trying to show him you understood, even if you weren’t sure how to fully express it. "I’ll… get it together. You don’t have to worry about that."

You paused, the space between you feeling more fragile now, like the air had thickened with everything unspoken. "I get it, though," you continued, a little softer. "I just... need a minute sometimes." You forced a smile, though it was tight at the edges, trying to lighten the mood a little. "But I’m here. I’m all in, okay?"

Naoya didn’t immediately respond, but you could tell by the slight softening in his eyes that he was hearing you. Maybe he didn’t fully believe it, but the tension had shifted just enough for him to nod, as if satisfied—at least for now.

With a short, almost reluctant glance your way, he walked off, leaving you standing there, feeling the weight of his words lingering in the silence.

You turned off the lights, the dimming of the room a final sign that practice had officially ended. The buzz of lingering tension in the air still clung to you, but you pushed it down as you headed toward the exit. The familiar echo of your footsteps against the floor was the only sound now, and you let it soothe you, clearing your head as best as you could.

You made your way down the stairs slowly, each step carrying the weight of the conversation you’d just had with Naoya. The band’s words, his frustration, the unspoken understanding—it all swirled in your head, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite sort out. The usual hum of the building felt muted now, the buzzing energy from practice having faded into something heavier, something more uncertain.

As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you spotted him.

Gojo.

He was standing near the door, arms casually crossed, his signature grin stretched wide across his face. The moment his eyes landed on you, the grin only grew brighter, as if your arrival had somehow sparked his whole mood.

"Took you long enough," Gojo called out, his voice teasing but warm. His eyes twinkled with that usual spark of mischief, but there was something else in his gaze, something softer, like he was actually waiting for you—like he’d been expecting this moment.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips despite the weight of everything that had just happened. There was something undeniably comforting about Gojo’s presence, like he was a small oasis of calm in the middle of all the chaos. His grin, that ever-present playfulness, had a way of easing the tightness in your chest, even if just for a moment.

You offered a tired smile, feeling a small amount of the tension lift at the sound of his voice. “Had a lot to wrap up.”

Gojo pushed off the wall and stretched casually as he started to walk off. “Well, now that the hard part’s over, you’re free to hang out with me. Sound good?”

You shrugged, a teasing smile curling at your lips despite the exhaustion weighing on you. “I guess.”

Gojo stopped in his tracks, feigning offense, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. “I guess?” he repeated, his tone incredulous, “Is that really all I get after I graciously offer to spend my valuable time with you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated pout that tugged at his lips, his usual playful confidence now tinged with mock hurt. His act was so over-the-top that it almost felt like a personal insult—except it was hilarious.

“C’mon, you’re lucky I’m even agreeing to hang out with you,” you shot back with a smirk, trying to match his theatrics as you turned to walk beside him.

Gojo’s pout deepened for a moment, but then his grin returned, wide and knowing, like he had won some small, unspoken victory. He waved a dismissive hand. “Fine, fine, I guess I’ll take what I can get. But next time, at least give me a ‘thank you’ or something,” he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckled. “You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

“Yep,” he said with a grin, stepping up beside you, his playful demeanor as natural as breathing. “But you still love me.”

The words hit you like a sudden wave, and for a moment, everything else around you seemed to fade into the background. You froze, caught off guard. But you still love me. It felt like your heart had skipped a beat, the words coming from him so casual, so light. But in that moment, they resonated deeper than you expected. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest, knowing it was just him teasing—but the reality was, it wasn’t entirely untrue. You did love him.

But you couldn’t let that show, not now. Not when he was being his usual playful self. You let out a soft exhale, the moment passing as quickly as it had arrived.

“Love you?” You shot him a look, the teasing smirk back on your face. “Not sure about that. But I guess I’ll let you stick around a little longer.”

Gojo laughed, clearly not picking up on the slight shift in your tone, and nudged your shoulder. “A little longer? I’m wounded,” he said with exaggerated drama. “But I’ll take it. I guess that’s as close to love as I’ll get from you, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head, the tightness in your chest still lingering, but you'd buried it under the sarcasm. “That’s about the best you’re going to get.”

You both walked to the convenience store, your footsteps in sync, though your mind felt a little distant. Gojo's usual teasing banter floated around you, but you couldn’t help but feel the familiar knot in your stomach. It wasn’t the first time you’d hung out with him like this, but tonight, everything felt… heavier. You pushed the thought aside.

Inside the store, the familiar warmth and low hum of the lights made you feel grounded. You grabbed a cup of instant noodles and a couple of snacks, trying to focus on something as simple as preparing food. The act of cooking your noodles in the microwave seemed to calm your racing thoughts.

Gojo, naturally, was in a good mood as he picked out a drink and snacks, then casually plopped down next to you. As you set your bowl of noodles in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulder brushed against yours as he sat—just a little too close for comfort, but you didn’t pull away.

Gojo took a sip of his drink, leaning back casually against his seat, his usual carefree demeanor in full force. The silence between you two was comfortable, yet your mind was all over the place. You were trying to keep your thoughts in check when, out of nowhere, Gojo dropped his usual carefree remark.

“By the way,” he began, his voice casual, almost as if he was talking about the weather, “I’ve got a girlfriend now.”

And for a split second, the world seemed to freeze.

Everything—the soft hum of the convenience store, the clink of distant cans, the faint rustle of plastic bags—vanished into the background. Your breath hitched in your chest, and the next few seconds dragged by like slow-motion, the words echoing in your mind.

Girlfriend?

Your fingers gripped your bowl of noodles so tightly that it almost slipped from your hands. Your vision blurred slightly, and for a heartbeat, you couldn’t remember how to breathe. A heavy weight settled in your chest, like you were sinking into an endless pit.

The memories of last night—the soft hum of the afterparty, the way he’d danced with Mina, their kiss, the way she smiled up at him—came crashing down all at once. It was like someone had grabbed your ribcage and squeezed. You blinked, feeling a tightness in your throat, a flood of heat behind your eyes.

How did things advance so quickly in the span of a night?

You’d seen them together, you knew it was coming, and yet—this? Why Mina?

Why her?

Out of all the people, why had it been her? You’d watched the way he looked at her, the laughter that came so naturally as they danced, the way she’d fit so effortlessly into his orbit. The kiss had been a final confirmation, one you had tried to pretend wasn’t real, but now, hearing the word "girlfriend" spill from his lips—it felt like a punch to the gut.

You thought you understood him, at least enough to know that he wasn’t one for commitment. He’d told you that himself. You’d heard it countless times: "I don’t do relationships. Too much hassle, too much commitment."

But here he was, talking about Mina like it was nothing. Like the man who had sworn off ties, who had never seemed interested in anything beyond his casual flings, had suddenly—and without warning—shifted completely.

It didn’t make sense. You blinked rapidly, fighting the sting behind your eyes. How did this happen? How had his stance on relationships changed so fast, so suddenly, without any hint of it? And why now? Why Mina, of all people?

You felt your grip on the bowl tighten, your knuckles turning white. The ache in your chest wasn’t just about him moving on—it was about the sudden shift, the betrayal of all those times you’d tried to convince yourself he’d eventually come around, that maybe he’d see you as more than just the friend who always tagged along.

And now this. Her. A girl who seemed to get him, who was everything you weren’t: confident, carefree, like she belonged beside him.

For a fleeting moment, you felt that familiar, hollow pang again. What did she have that you didn’t?

The thought lingered, gnawing at you, but you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to indulge in that kind of self-pity—not right now. Not in front of him.

You took a breath, steadying yourself. Don’t let him see it. Don’t let him see how badly this hurts.

You swallowed, forcing your chopsticks to meet your noodles again, but it felt like your throat had gone dry. "Mina, right?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you instantly regretted it. Your voice was too quiet, too unsure, but you couldn’t take it back.

Gojo didn’t seem to notice the change in your demeanor. He flashed you that usual grin, the one that always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. "Yeah, that’s her," he said, a little more animated now, clearly pleased with himself. "She’s awesome. Thought you’d like her."

You didn’t expect the surge of pain that hit you at his words, but it was sharp and unmistakable. You kept your eyes trained on the noodles in your bowl, afraid they’d betray you if you looked up.

Gojo continued, clearly not picking up on the shift in your mood. “Honestly, she’s just... everything I never knew I needed. She’s got this energy, you know? It’s like—everything about her just makes sense. The way she talks, the way she laughs, the way she looks at me, it’s like she sees me—really sees me, you know?”

You could feel your heart tighten at his words, the little cracks in your chest deepening with every praise. His voice was full of that certain warmth, the one that made everything he said feel like it was wrapped in a soft, golden light. It was a tone you had never heard directed at you.

You swallowed thickly, your stomach twisting with each word that slipped past Gojo’s lips. He didn’t notice, of course—he was too wrapped up in whatever glow Mina had cast over him.

"It’s like she really gets me, y'know?" Gojo continued, the edge of his smile softening into something more thoughtful. "Like, every little thing I do, she just understands and… and we’re on the same wavelength. No effort. No trying. It’s just… natural."

You blinked, and for a moment, everything went blurry. Your hands tightened around your chopsticks, but you barely noticed.

I get you too, the thought screamed in your head, but you swallowed your voice down your throat, forcing out a smile instead. Why doesn’t that matter?

The words you didn’t say swirled around you, a dull ache in your chest that refused to quiet down. You’d spent years trying to understand him, trying to be the person who got him—the way he looked at the world, the jokes he made, the way his mind worked at a million miles a minute. You’d always been there, hadn’t you?

And yet here he was, saying Mina was the one who got him.

In that split second, the words stung with a cold finality. It wasn’t about the girl. It wasn’t about Mina. It was about how effortlessly Gojo had found someone else to fill that space in his heart that, for so long, you thought maybe—just maybe—was reserved for you.

He continued, unaware of the quiet storm in your mind. "She just gets me, and I don’t have to explain anything. It's so easy with her. I can't even remember the last time something felt so right, you know?"

Your mind went blank for a moment, and you couldn’t stop the thought that broke through: But I get you. I’ve always gotten you.

You blinked and cleared your throat. The sting was still there, but you couldn’t show it. You forced a smile, even though it felt like your lips were glued together. "I’m glad she makes you happy," you said, the words coming out smoother than you felt. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more.

Gojo’s grin widened. "Yeah, she’s great," he said, leaning back in his seat, completely unaware of the quiet battle going on inside you. “I’m really lucky.”

As he went on, your thoughts circled back to that question—Why her? Why had he found someone who fit so effortlessly into the life you’d imagined you two would share? And why wasn’t it you who had earned the privilege of being the one to "get him"?

For a moment, it felt like the world outside the two of you faded into the background. The convenience store, the noise, the bustling sounds—everything felt far away.

It was just you, Gojo, and the words he couldn’t take back.

You continued to stare at him, your gaze flickering over every little thing—the way his eyes lit up when he talked about her, the almost reverent tone in his voice, the soft, almost dreamy expression that crept onto his face. He wasn’t just saying it; he was feeling it, every word a reflection of something deep inside him, something he couldn’t hide even if he tried.

His smile, usually so playful and confident, was softer now. His eyes were full of that familiar warmth, but there was something new—something brighter. It was a look you had never seen before.

Your breath hitched again, and for a brief moment, it felt like your chest was tightening around you, the world shrinking as his words continued to wash over you, louder and louder.

He was in love.

The thought hit you with a quiet finality, and you swallowed hard, feeling something inside you crack just a little more. You couldn’t look away, even though you wanted to. Even though everything inside you was screaming to pull back, to stop pretending, to let it all show.

But you couldn’t.

Not now.

You could feel the ache swelling in your chest again, but this time, you forced yourself to hold it down, to swallow it back where it belonged. You have to be happy for him. He deserves this. The words rang in your mind, a mantra you tried to hold on to. You had never been selfish with him, not once. And no matter how badly it hurt, no matter how much you wished it was you sitting there beside him, you couldn’t let him see it.

You have to support him.

You blinked, trying to clear the sudden haze in your vision, and when you looked at him again, you made sure your smile was there—genuine, warm, and kind, just like always. The lump in your throat made it difficult, but you forced it down.

"She sounds amazing," you said, your voice steady, even though your heart felt like it was breaking with every word. "I’m really happy for you, Satoru."

He didn’t seem to notice the subtle strain in your tone. His eyes brightened further, the love for Mina practically glowing in them. “Yeah, she really is. I really think you two will get along well once you meet. She’s easy to talk to, you’ll see.”

You nodded, forcing a bit more enthusiasm into your voice. "I’m sure we will."

But as he continued to talk about her, the way his voice softened with affection every time her name left his lips, something inside you cracked again. You tried to push it down. You had to. You had to be supportive, even if it felt like the air was being slowly squeezed out of your lungs.

Because he was happy. That was all that mattered.

And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t be the one to hold him back from that. PART 3

[825414519]

long post incoming: something about richter's themes (divine bloodlines & strange bloodlines respectively) that i pointed out on twitter but also wanted to point out here is that ... actually this would probably work better with a video example but has anyone noticed what's going on with the synth strings in both themes?

divine bloodlines is in what i think is a major key, which is associated with happiness and triumph and all that kind of stuff. it starts off with a guitar melody, and then eventually carries on into a more delicate synth (probably representing a more sensitive and caring side of richter's) while the guitar takes a backseat and grows a little weaker, and then at around the middle... the synth is still there, or the melody is still being carried, but the chords of an organ are also behind it this time. which i consider to be THE dracula instrument - toccata and fugue, anyone?

to me this represents how richter's identity almost solely stands on his ability or lack thereof to beat dracula. he's strong and powerful and at the forefront of everyone's attention, but what he thinks and worries about and who he wants to be and what he keeps to himself (represented by the synth) looms over him regardless.

in strange bloodlines, they're not supported, the song might be in minor key, and that entire song is off-kilter in general: it literally even starts with a falling tone, how on-the-nose is that?! the rest of the song is pulsing and manic like an uncontrollable heartbeat, the percussion is crashing and chaotic, and this time the synth strings that i feel represent richter himself are the sole focus, standing almost completely alone.

almost.

at around the second instance of the melody repeating or something, it's just slightly different and has a fluttery synth accompanying it. not only that, but there's more to the melody: it's the same, but it continues! richter doesn't die there, he's not supposed to!

i have no proof of this but i think the fluttery synth is meant to represent alucard opposing his decision as it vaguely sounds like the intro to "the tragic prince". i have no proof of this, no tabs or sheet music or anything, it just sounds like that to me. and i have tinnitus so take my opinions with a grain of salt :P

i'm not a musician even though i want to be one, so someone else with better education or training could talk about this more easily, but it's just something i noticed... and you can really see the difference between the two in the harmony of darkness version of divine bloodlines! it starts with richter's "regular" theme, and then halfway through you get those orchestra stabs symbolizing confusion and guilt and pain before giving way to strange bloodlines's melody.

it's really good symbolism for his downfall, what made him fall in the first place, and - if you're taking the fluttery synth the way i'm taking it - the person that picked him back up.

that is all, thank you!

[stoic--rose]

my chemical brothers cds finally came in!!!!! so uuuuh i guess ill do overviews of each album.

Dig Your Own Hole - 1997

almost certainly my favorite chembros album. full of pumpin beats, punchy drums, unique vocal samples, pretty much everything i love from electronic. the eponymous track is very good, but my favorite track has to be Get Up On It Like This. i love the brass sample they use, its just too damn good, i can never get enough of it. Electrobank is another favorite, the vocal tracks at the beginning are pretty fun, and i like what it turns into later. (bonus points for just having explosion samples at the end) Setting Sun is the first song on the album to have full lyrics which is pretty cool, and the way this album ends is just so outta left field but damn its good as hell. Where Do I Begin is such a laidback and chill track that feels very introspective, and The Private Psychedelic Reel is just a journey of a song. also, my favorite part of this album is the middle section, specifically It Doesn't Matter, Don't Stop The Rock, and Get Up On It Like This. each track flows neatly into the next, and theyre all really good tracks. Don't Stop The Rock has this squishy, unorthodox synth in it that i really fuck with. It Doesn't Matter also has this pulsing, harsh bass that i like a lot. overall, a phenomenal album with back to back bangers and a soft side near the end.

Surrender - 1999

this album is actually home to the first chembros song i ever heard, that being Let Forever Be, a personal favorite of mine. Surrender has a lot of good to it, though i dont think it's one of my favorites. Music:Response is a really good opener, Orange Wedge is super funky, i already said my thoughts on Let Forever Be, but other than that there's not too many standout tracks here, at least to me. Under The Influence was on the WipE'out" 3 soundtrack and fits in pretty well there, but listening on its own its nothin to write home about. Hey Boy Hey Girl is weirdly popular, but it just doesn't do anything for me. Out of Control is good, but it drags on a bit too long for me. the eponymous track is good though, i like that one. overall, i think surrender just aint for me mostly. its got some tracks i like, and ill definitely listen to it all, it just isnt gonna be my first pick.

Push The Button - 2004

for this album, the focus on electronic is pushed to the side a bit to make way for a more lyrical, hip hop focused album, and nowhere is that more clear than the opening track, Galvanize, which is chembros' most well known song. and i like it well enough! the wordsmiths here do a great job, and i like the string sample that permeates most of the song. that being said, i think it drags on a bit and is a little too long? you could definitely cut this one down and not lose a whole lot. but it has the catchiness to not make that runtime boring, for sure. after Galvanize comes The Boxer, which is probably my favorite track on the album. by this point the change in style for Push The Button is starting to shine through more, but the chembros know how to make it work, and MAN does it shine in The Boxer. it has this looping, cut up sample of a keyboard that i just cant get enough of, and the vocals here are super great. other tracks of note are Believe, which has a lot of cool noises in it, Shake Break Bounce, which has some cool drums and guitars, and Left Right, a commentary piece on war, which i can always appreciate. (shoutouts to Flobots) Close Your Eyes is a classic chembros move of having a more relaxed, uplifting track near the end of the album, and it does its job super well. overall, while Push The Button is very different from everything chembros had done up to that point, i think they tackle the new style really well and deliver a lot of unique bangers here. really great stuff.

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: “Vision of Hope“

Plot threads coming together as we approach the home stretch and season finale arc, lets explore some sewers today!

Kanan has deemed it safe enough to enlist help training Ezra again.  Fortunately this time they are solidly on the ground and taking precautions. XD

This exercise is a little bit similar to the one Anakin put Ahsoka through in Trials of the Jedi.  Only, you know, it has an actual achievable goal and endpoint (redirecting a blaster bolt into the target helmet) and Kanan doesn’t force Ezra to keep getting knocked unconscious over and over again.

Nice detail in Ezra sensing bolts coming and ducking, moving before they even remotely reach him.

Please help him, he’s so tired.

Seeing that Ezra’s distracted, Kanan calls a brief halt.  I do wonder if Ezra’s own anticipation of catching Gall Trayvis’s broadcast, while he’s open to the Force and letting it help him deflect and dodge shots, is what triggered his vision.

The boy does tend to accident his way into Force breakthroughs lol.

This full-body eyeroll is such a typical teenager thing.

The “Shenanigans” leitmotif comes in here, in playful synths.  Then the Force ring sound effects starts and it crashes to a halt with a note of cymbal percussion.  The strings take over with high frantic ascending trills that drop away into the full-on soundscape of Force noises, only a strained trumpet bleeting out halting notes of Ezra’s theme.

There’s a pulsing heartbeat sound underneath everything too.  Also love the wavering effect on the sides of the screen to indicate the vision.

The amazement when Kanan tells Ezra he deflected every single shot into the helmet, aww.

He looks so proud.

You know in hindsight it’s really not surprising that Kanan assumed Ezra had graduated to tracking through the Force in “Legacy”, given how often the kid had already surprised him. XD

His face.  *sobs*

I haven’t been commenting on it much but pay attention to whenever the titlecard pops up without its normal bombastic fanfare.  Usually a sign that things are serious.  I remember we went a solid streak of like five episodes in Season Four without a single fanfare and it was STRESSFUL.

Kanan brings up the very likely possibility that Ezra’s desires are coloring his vision, making him see what he wants to see out of it, which again goes to show why the Jedi teach discipline and clarity of mind when tapping into the Force.  You bring your own emotions and junk into the connection with you and they can trick you even more than the already cryptic and vague visions can.  “Your focus determines your reality.”

We’ll revisit this concept later in the series.

Zeb going for a headsmack while Sabine chooses a shoulder bump.  Sabine has this adorable devilish grin right before she lays it on him.  It turns softer and more playful as she passes.

Ezra smacks Zeb back as he runs into the Ghost, cute.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra twirls his helmet before sitting down, lovely little character touches like this make the animation feel more natural and immersive and realistic.

Hngh, Ezra’s eagerness in these early scenes hurts.

Lol, Sabine leans in when Ezra mentions the mural, the artist in her is intrigued.  And without missing a beat she pulls up the correct schematic.

This is the biased shipper in me but I’m loving their comfortable proximity, you can see Sabine slip out of her seat in the booth and kneel or crouch next to Ezra who’s on the stool.

Kanan once again warning Ezra not to put too much stock in his vision and Hera raising an eyebrow like, “Mais, c’est quoi?”

“He had a what now?”

Hi Zare!

Zare is exiting state left into his own spinoff adventure lol.  (Really gotta get myself a copy of his books.)

Ezra’s eyes are really pretty this episode.

The crew talking about Ezra’s tragic backstory. :(

That old Ralph McQuarrie concept art put to use in lovely fashion.

*has a plan*

*DOUBT.jpeg*

And Chopper straight up murdered his first other droid lol.  And also very nearly takes Kanan’s head off.

The sass on this droid. XD

Always found it cute how Ezra doesn’t get indignant or offended by Sabine implying he smells like the sewers but glees up like it’s the most exciting thing in the world that she’s paid enough attention to him to tell.

Even Kanan’s like, “Okay, can you not be embarrassing about your obvious crush for like two seconds?”

Hi Trayvis, you dirty lying snake. :)

This shot of Ezra and Kanan igniting their lightsabers together for the first time is pretty sweet.

“Padawan Jabba.”  Snrk, love that Kallus remembered that.

Oooooh lookit the way Zeb’s bo-staff lights up the smoke!

Hera’s blaster has a very unique sound that I like.

The “Shenanigans” cue comes back but it is a lot less fun and upbeat.  Some of the chords sound transposed to minor key.

Trayvis starting pinging me the moment we saw him in person, honestly, just something about him and the way he talked was way too slimy but his hesitance to actually escape here definitely got me suspicious.

Good thing Kanan was reviewing blaster bolt deflection earlier lol.

SNAAAAAAAAKE.

NO ONE LIKES YOU. >:(

“How will you find us?”  “I can smell you, remember?” <3333333

Love to see Sabine initiating the banter for once.

Even Hera is like, “THAT’S CUTE GUYS BUT WE GOTTA GO.”

Trayvis digging for leads to other Rebel factions like the lying rat he is. >:(

Aaaaaand this is why Hera doesn’t tell the others anything, Ezra’s so eager to believe Trayvis is an ally that he’s just talking openly in front of him.  Disaster averted only because Ezra thinks the Ghost crew is literally all there is.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The consistent wafts of air from the fan that blow Ezra’s hair.

The sharp-eyed can tell that Hera adjusts something on her blaster moments before handing it to Trayvis.

EVERY SINGLE SHOT OF THE BETRAYED LOOK ON EZRA’S FACE HURTS ME PHYSICALLY AND PERSONALLY.

Bbbbyyyyyyyyyy. :((((((((((((

Hera’s furious Mama Bear haymaker to Trayvis’s face is... satisfying.

I love the sound Ezra’s saber makes when it’s turned on, it sound so unique to normal lightsaber ignitions.

And then there’s one last distorted iteration of the “Shenanigans” cue and Ezra’s death glare game continues to be on point.

Hera’s turn to comfort Ezra this time, though Kanan’s flat, “I saw this bratty kid who constantly caused me trouble.” gets a chuckle out of him first.

“Shenanigans“ comes back, properly in the woodwinds section and major key again to close us out.

Oof.  This episode isn’t one I particularly rewatch that often, since it’s kind of a bummer.  Our potential ally turns out to be a fraud and a spy, all the work the crew has done only seeming to put bigger and bigger targets on their backs.  But this is a franchise about hope, about enduring until the dawn breaks, so our heroes escape to lick their wounds, regroup, encourage each other, and try again.

And next episode they make some big splashes.  Boy oh boy. :)

[fusodj]

Lost in the Groove: The Art of DJing Minimal Techno

Minimal techno isn’t just music—it’s an immersive journey, a pulsing soundscape that strips away the excess to reveal the raw, hypnotic essence of the beat. As a DJ, spinning minimal techno is about more than just playing tracks; it’s about crafting a vibe that resonates deeply with the crowd.

Here’s what makes DJing minimal techno special:

🎧 The Flow

Minimal techno thrives on subtlety. It’s not about dramatic drops or fast transitions—it’s about weaving a seamless, hypnotic journey. Each track bleeds into the next, creating an unbroken groove that feels almost meditative.

⚙️ The Layers

This genre is a playground of textures and nuances. The key is mastering EQs and effects to bring out the hidden details—those crisp hi-hats, deep kicks, and shifting synths that breathe life into the sound.

🌀 The Connection

With minimal techno, you’re not just reading the room—you’re feeling it. The repetitive nature of the beats allows listeners to lose themselves in the rhythm, creating a deeper connection between DJ and crowd.

🔥 The Challenge

No over-the-top tricks here. The challenge is keeping it interesting with subtle changes, perfect timing, and a killer selection. It’s about proving that less really is more.

For the DJs out there:

What’s your go-to minimal techno track? What’s your favorite trick for keeping the vibe alive during a long set? Let’s trade ideas and keep the groove alive.

🎵 “Music is the silence between the beats.”

[phonypizza]

It takes her a bit to get everything all set up and ready to go, but with William's help, Aelita's hitting the sound check faster than she expected. Once everything seems to be in working order, she gives the crew an OK sign with a shy smile.

With one last adjustment of her headphones, Aelita peers out into the audience as the spotlight shines down on her. William scurries out of the light as if he's a mouse caught by surprise (and stumbles into the back, almost eating the ground in the process).

"Are you ready to dance? DJ Aelita's on stage!"

She hits the switch, and the song starts up.

At first, a beat. Then, synths and piano... Finally, a single drum hit, and...

So sentimental (Not sentimental, no) Romantic, not disgusting yet Darling, I'm down and lonely When with the fortunate, only I've been looking for something else Do let, do let, do let Jugulate, do let, do Let's go slowly, discouraged Distant from other interests On your favorite weekend ending- This love's for gentlemen only That's with the fortunate, only No, I gotta be someone else These days, it comes, it comes, it comes It comes, it comes and goes Lisztomania! Think less but see it grow Like a riot, like a riot, oh! Not easily offended Not hard to let it go From a mess to the masses Lisztomania Think less but see it grow Lisztomania... Lisztomania... Lisztomania... From a mess to the masses!

And then the electronic parts really kick in, and Aelita's mixing the beat with ample love for the stutter and letting other parts fade in and out. Her eyes are closed as her head bobs, clearly letting herself become immersed in the music.

These days oh I gotta be someone else! These da-da-da-da-da-days!

This is no killer music. This is music for music's sake, a celebration of classic and innovation.

It's showtime, it's showtime, it's showtime! Time-- time to show it off, time to show it off, it's time to show it off! Time! Time to show it off, time to show it off, it's time to show it off!

It comes and comes and comes and comes and goes! Comes and comes and comes and goes! These days oh I gotta be someone else! These da-da-da-da-da-days!

Her fingertips feel alive as she manipulates the samples and tracks, the music pulsing both in her ears and through the stage. Sweat beads on her brow as the song finishes its flourishes and fades to its ending. ... In her heart, even if it wasn't as good as the opening act, at least Aelita had fun with it. She just hopes her audience liked it too...

[jch3ss3cak3]

Guys I made chat GPT make a fan song from mouthwashing. After multiple tries here's what I got (Will post updates)

"Wreckage of the Tulpar"

(Fan song inspired by Mouthwashing by Wrong Organ)

Verse 1

The Tulpar lies broken, drifting in space,

Five souls abandoned, each hiding disgrace.

Jimmy, the captain, took charge through the pain,

Blaming Curly’s silence for the crash and the strain.

Chorus

Lost in the void, trapped in despair,

Secrets unravel, but no one’s there.

Bound to the silence, haunted cries,

In the wreckage of Tulpar, each of them dies.

Verse 2

Anya clings to secrets, shame and regret,

Hides in the med bay, her last silhouette.

Swansea stands guard with a fire axe drawn,

Protecting Daisuke, who won’t see dawn.

Chorus

Lost in the void, trapped in despair,

Secrets unravel, but no one’s there.

Bound to the silence, haunted cries,

In the wreckage of Tulpar, each of them dies.

Verse 3

Daisuke crawls, wounded and frail,

Lost in the vents, his hope gone stale.

Swansea can’t save him, the axe falls fast,

A mercy in darkness, his loyalty’s last.

Bridge

Flashbacks reveal what twisted this fate,

Anya’s confession, Jimmy’s hate.

Layoffs and ruin, a death wish concealed,

The truth of the crash, slowly revealed.

Chorus

Lost in the void, trapped in despair,

Secrets unravel, but no one’s there.

Bound to the silence, haunted cries,

In the wreckage of Tulpar, each of them dies.

Outro

Jimmy throws one last birthday for ghosts,

With their hollow faces, he toasts.

He feeds Curly flesh and cries in despair,

Then takes his own life, a twisted prayer.

As Curly drifts off in a frozen state,

The Tulpar sails on, bound by fate.

Ghosts in the hull, no peace to find,

In the void, they’re lost, out of time.

Instruments it suggested

To match the dark, psychological horror feel of Mouthwashing, a mix of eerie, atmospheric, and gritty instruments could really capture the tension and descent into madness. Here’s a breakdown of what might fit:

1. Electric Guitar (Distorted & Reverb-heavy):

A distorted, gritty electric guitar would add tension and a raw, industrial feel. Adding reverb and maybe even feedback in certain parts would create a sense of isolation and madness.

2. Synths and Pads (Dark Ambient):

Atmospheric synth pads can add a haunting, spacey backdrop, filling in the empty “void” of space. Low, pulsating drones would add an unsettling foundation beneath each verse and chorus.

3. Bass Guitar (Distorted & Heavy):

A heavy, distorted bass guitar could underscore the tension, especially during choruses. It should have a slow, rumbling feel, like a heartbeat, building suspense and dread.

4. Drums (Low, Minimalistic):

The drums should be sparse, with an emphasis on deep, reverberating toms and a slow, heavy beat. Keeping cymbals subtle (or even absent in parts) could add a sense of doom, with more impact on beats like a pulse or heartbeat.

5. Creepy Sound Effects (Distant Metallic Clangs, Airy Sounds):

Adding metallic sounds, like clanging metal or scraping, could give the feeling of being trapped in a confined space. These effects can act as background elements, creating dissonance to heighten the atmosphere.

6. Electric Violin/Cello (Dissonant, Moaning):

An electric violin or cello playing dissonant, bending notes would add to the eerie, despairing feel, almost like wailing. These instruments could emphasize the emotional toll of the situation, especially in instrumental breaks.

7. Low Choir Vocals or Dark Vocals (Layered & Haunting):

A low choir or ghostly vocal effects (low and airy) would emphasize the psychological breakdown and despair. These could be added in the background, almost like distant voices or murmurs, enhancing the supernatural vibe.

8. Piano (Soft, Minor Key, Dissonant):

Together, these elements could make the song feel haunting, claustrophobic, and full of dread, perfectly matching the dark themes of Mouthwashing. Let me know if you want any instrument focus shifted for a different feel!

A soft, echoing piano could be used in the verses to build tension, playing sparse, dissonant notes or chords to echo a sense of solitude.

[voskhozhdeniye]

Feeling paralyzed, I've sat down at the synths a few times this month, but have been unable to finish anything. I don't save unfinished patches. I treat the computer like the modular, things that can't be saved, once it's turned off is gone. If it's posted on here it's saved.

I've watched more movies within the past week than I have the last two, maybe three years combined. One last week really fucked me up. Another finally cemented that I really don't like French films. I like certain directors, but......

You know what, fuck it.

I've been bookmarking every picture of mutilated bodies I've seen on Twitter since May. I don't go looking, I don't have to. You can imagine what I've seen. I don't want to like the posts, but I want to acknowledge what I've seen, commit it to memory, unable to deny.

I had to get up and walk out the room last week during one of the films. A character had to publicly proclaim his love for his boyfriend to break up what was basically an arranged marriage.

I saw a little girl last week who was just head, upper torso and one arm. Everything else was gone. But watching this boy stand up to his boyfriend's father, who beat the absolute shit out of his son when he found out about the relationship, made me tremble, my pulse quicken. It also made me remember why I like movies in the first place. I'd forgotten what that slap felt like.

What does this say about me? Am I more afraid of love than violence? I think it's the threat of violence anything that doesn't resemble hetero relations draw in this society.

I think it's a hold over from my parent's religion, but I have always felt like at some point in my life, I'm going to have to make a stand that will put me at odds with everything in my life. Kendrick has a song where he refuse to give a homeless man any change. Later on, he learns the man is god testing him. Real shit like that.

Would I pass this test?

There's a reason I chose this url. In the film, the two characters are tested. One passes and one fails, but not who you think, and the reward for passing is death.

There's a reason I chose the dance of death tattoo. Will you put your skin on the line to help someone?

What's the first crest from Digimon?

If I had to stand up to the abusive father of my boyfriend, could I do it? What if that was my test? I couldn't handle it in movie form.

Since October I keep thinking about that quote that's like speak the truth, even if your voice trembles.

I have watched so many people who I considered beacons for truth go silent on Gaza. They'll criticize America's anti-blackness, but apparently only care about the oppression they face firsthand.

People who are way more educated than me, but fall in line immediately. If they're failing this moment, what does that mean for me?

The movie doesn't end well for the couple. A jealous, deeply closeted, and highly religious third wheel, who snitches at the beginning to the abusive father, can't change their stripes. The old if I can't have you...

Also, remember years back people on here bemoaning queer films with sad endings? Fuck all those people. I was nice back then. I won't be now. Denial of some of our realities helps no one.

While I'm at it, remember years back people on here calling anyone prude if they complained about sex scenes in movies? Fuck all of those people too. That French film last week. The story only existed to move the main character from hook up to hook up. That would be fine if it didn't market itself as something more.

Experimental storytelling, Malick like use of voice over, fuck outta here.

I'm having trouble eating again, and now I'm having trouble sleeping.

[goodbysunball]

Parched & parcel

Things are getting noticeably heavier and weirder, and we're the better for it. Some metal, finally, paired with some fine Aussie experimental noise and a band that'll make you believe in the dream of NYC again. It's the best season for this kind of stuff, so dive in.

dprk, Shitville Tourist LP (Studio Fabrik)

May I introduce to you Shitville Tourist (title of the year) by dprk, apparently a duo of Nick Dan (xNoBBQx) and Richard Fielding (Severed Heads) with support from a few mates. It feels like a journey in time back to where Twisted Village and Kye once roamed, where the journey largely justified the end product and the listener could take it or end up spending big later. While there is no question this record took me a few listens to unravel, what didn't take much to pique my interest was the gentle loop on "Crazy Little Corkscrew," something that sounds like a lullaby played with a steel drum, being poked and prodded by various electronics over its seven minutes. The track, like all four tracks on here, doesn't really go anywhere over its duration, but floats, writhes, twists and soaks in the sounds being made: pure joy in the noise made by machines. The title track and "Blumen Schmerz" are darker, more cavernous, where synths bleep and blot and drum machines whirr and exhale steam, creating the illusion of life where there is none. The latter has some creepy guitar parts splayed out on the pulsing synth backbone, but the investigation leads to no further conclusions; there is no categorization here. The finale, "Gulag In Space," provides not only another great title but a track nearly worthy of dancing, especially after the mind-fuck of the first three tracks. The beat bounces off all surfaces, as slippery as the rest of the record, but there is a sparkle on "Gulag" that winks at the listener as Shitville Tourist winds down. Something magnetic, or just plain alien, about the whole affair, but whatever it is, the sheer number of times I've played this have more than justified the hefty price tag. Great debut; let's hope for more from these true underground freaks.

Excarnated Entity, Mass Grave Horizon LP (Nuclear Winter)

Greece's Nuclear Winter puts out a ton of releases, so much that I've seemingly looked them over in the last few years. But taking stock, they've been responsible for the physical releases of a number of near-and-dear U.S.-based death metal acts like Blasphematory, the mighty Anhedonist, and now, Excarnated Entity. Excarnated Entity features a former member of Anhedonist, and there's definitely a similar approach to death metal with the two acts: mournful, grandiose but without the heavy-handed use of keyboards or Gregorian chant-like vocals. Excarnated Entity is also singularly focused on the horrors of war - not to be confused with the glorification of such in war metal - and provides ample heft to the incalculable loss of life. The band's demo, also reissued by Nuclear Winter in 2020, was a good primer for their debut LP, but the LP is devastating. The instrumental opener "Abjection" runs an elegant Mournful Congregation-style guitar line into the ground, simultaneously distraught and triumphant, and sets the stage for the rest. For anyone paying attention to the recent death-doom resurgence, Mass Grave Horizon fits right in and sets itself up near the top of that heap. While I think that there's a bit of momentum wasted in the middle section of "Corridor of Flame," that's really the only complaint I can level at the record. Everything else is properly filthy: gurgling vocals over blastbeats slam headfirst into downtuned chugging riffs, and a elegiac solo rises from the cracks in the pointlessly blood-stained soil. It's between "Irradiated Shadows" (the part before the solo, yeesh) and the punishing title track for my favorites here, but there's not a dud in the bunch. It's worth noting that the band does four-minute sprints as well as they can stretch tracks out to twice that length - a versatility that elevates Excarnated Entity above the one-note lifers rehashing the same formula on every track. Bleak, miserable and, given the state of the world, timely death-doom is what you get on Mass Grave Horizon, and if you think you've heard it before, it's worth hearing again in this singularly focused and dimming light.

VoidCeremony, Threads of Unknowing LP (20 Buck Spin)

I've got to give Nic at Repressed Records credit for pushing this one, as anything combining descriptors like "jazz" and "prog" with "metal" usually makes me run for the hills. But, this new VoidCeremony LP is checking all the boxes while flirting with all of the above, while (as Nic notes) throwing in a fretless bass solo on nearly every song to boot. The band plays death metal, firstly, and while there are some space-y outros and instrumentals, everything feels of a piece rather than forcing together disparate parts. The label press mentions that the band plays "with the gliding, controlled chaos and smooth fluidity of a jazz quartet," and that checks out, but I don't smell anything particularly jazzy about the record. Rather, I get a big whiff of Gorguts when listening to this record, another band that seamlessly combined progressive, thrash and death metal with grooves, resulting in something impressively complex without making it feel like a homework assignment. "Writhing in the Facade of Time" probably best displays all of these aspects, from the fading-in tech-death opener, to the sky-scraping guitar solos, to the crushing close of the track before the group's whisked away on a mystical Moog coda. The band shifts from strength to strength without any bloat, and just as importantly, without any clean vocals. Threads of Unknowing is my go-to workout record this year, the fluidity of the drumming providing blastbeat stress and necessary space in equal measure. Strap in, take a trip; whether you buy into the lyrics or overarching theme is up to you, but either way it's one of the most thrilling death metal records of the year.

Weak Signal, War&War LP (12XU)

Cool "reissue" of an album digitally released in 2022, hopefully given a wider reach with the push of 12XU. War&War is Weak Signal's third LP, and it sounds like a band comfortable with themselves, their capabilities and their sound: they can rip off a garage-punk track like "Don't Think About It" and slow things to a simmer on "Consolation" with ease. That the band sounds so self-assured did make this record feel a little too easy the first few times; but, like label mates Lewsberg, the complexity of the tracks shines through on iterative spins. Seemingly small choices like the backing vocal melody on "Names" or the sparkling Cass McCombs guitar on "Spooky Feeling" begin to feel like bold, powerful moves amidst the background of resignation/resilience across the album. The mostly spoken, barely sung vocals paired with the often bluesy guitar lines give the record a rough, workingman feel - which, for me, means that things ain't going your way but what are you gonna do about it - but there's no glory in it, just a general disdain for how things are. It's definitely a bit of a downer, though I think the band would prefer "realist," and two lyrics from the middle of the record seem illustrative of the this approach: "I'm no weirdo/I'm no freak/but things keep happening to me" from "Songworld," and "If you think I care/that's where you're wrong" from "Yr Deal." I don't find that the lyrics convey apathy, rather an infinite patience or aplomb in the face of everything spinning uncontrollably off-axis. War&War feels similar in spirit to what True Widow was doing on the heavy sigh of As High as the Highest Heavens..., though without the depressive bent of that record. A bit of despair creeps in on the cover of Johnny Thunders' "It's Not Enough," which bleeds into the gray, abstract noise of the title track, but the band puts their dukes up again on closer "Who the Hell Are U?," a fitting end to the record to reinforce the group's street savvy instincts. Weak Signal's delivered a doozy, and one of my favorite new-to-me discoveries of the year so far.

[traanarchist]

Review of The Best™ Car Seat Headrest Album, How to Leave Town

As a certified Car Seat Headrest Homosexual™, I am contractually obligated to have at least one hot take of my own to add to the pile that is CSH Discourse. Luckily for you, it's not only correct, but also pretty chill compared to some others I've seen in the abyss that is r/CSHFans.

As somebody who isn't a huge fan of the numbered albums (The first four albums Will made), I split up CSH's discography into two parts when thinking about it as a whole: the big (in both size and scope) albums, and the smaller ones. I consider Twin Fantasy (Both Versions), Monomania, How to Leave Town, Teens of Denial, and Making A Door Less Open to be the 5 "big albums". I don't declare this with any authority, just that I find it easier to think of these 5 as the more focused and more album-y albums than something like Nervous Young Men or My Back Is Killing Me Baby.

Anyways, the reason I say all this is to say that, of the 5 "big albums", my favorite is How To Leave Town, which I feel like is one of the more underappreciated albums of his discography, and especially out of those 5. Why is that?

The Vibes

As with most Ephemeral things, be it gender, sexuality, or the fiction ideas you get while stoned out of your mind at 1 AM, vibes are very hard to explain. For me, How To Leave Town just has an energy about it. It's dark and melancholic but also bittersweet, depressing but hopeful. It carries the ambivalence that I get when I'm sitting on my bed, just thinking, and I suddenly feel my perspective switch and suddenly look at a part of my life in a completely different direction. When I listen to the 5 Minute Long instrumental intro to the first song on How To Leave Town, The Ending of Dramamine, I start to feel this weird pulsing feeling in my chest, like the onset of an anxiety attack, but not in a bad way. It's not that I feel sad or happy or any emotion, it's that I just feel. And that's really cool. Am I reading too much into my own reaction to some weird electronic beats? Yup, but it's very based pog of me to do so.

The Lyrics

Will is a goat lyricist, and I feel like he represents that nowhere more so than in How To Leave Town. The Ending of Dramamine has my favorite verse pretty much ever:

And in the sky, there is a place Where it's warm, and you're there And I've got the power now Yeah, I know what to do To make you feel something besides pain 'Cause it's the love That we've come to expect, to deserve And then we fuck and it's nice It's not a complicated mess And my back doesn't hurt And your head doesn't tell you to kill yourself So we smile and embrace Until we don't know who we are

Like this is a major mood ngl. Will is able to build a story of leaving home and being in this place of extreme change and how that makes you question everything around you, not through plot points but through lyrics that create that emotional response.

You can drive across the whole thing in four days if you really wanted leaving custom thank you notes in all the houses you ever haunted

in this whole solar system we've only met one type of life it's the living kind of life and it's not one I recognize

Of course, change isn't always bad! In You're in Love with Me, How to Leave Town gets a fully happy song, where Will happily sings about falling in love, as well as when he had a dream where Obama came to his birthday party. It's weird and silly and sweet and I love it so much.

The Instrumentals

I'm not a musician, and I don't know shit about music theory, I just sing and listen to a lot of music. However, even I can tell that man oh man, the synths in this album slap, along with all the other instrumental work. Can I say anything beyond that it's really good? Nope!

The Conclusion

I'm planning on using this blog (when I'm not reblogging Homestuck Fanart) to just post little essay thingies like this on albums I really like. Please add any albums you think I might like in the tags/comments (do people use comments on tumblr? I'm very new to this) or just send me an ask and I'll post some tiny thoughts about it if I get the time to listen to it! Anyways that's it peace out gamers

[thesinglesjukebox]

NEWJEANS - SUPER SHY

[7.60]

We're a bit excited to be back, if you couldn't tell...

Crystal Leww: NewJeans is a culmination of Min Hee Jin's career-long exploration of the many versions of girlhood and what it means. "Super Shy" is girlhood in 2023, which is to say, it's mostly just vibes -- uwu charm lyrics, wispy singing, and a dance made for Tiktok dancing with your homies. It is one of my least favorite NewJeans songs because it's so non-specific and made for viral meme repeatability than the embarrassingly sincere, sometimes wistful, heart-swooping songs about crushes that I love more from NewJeans but still, non-specific NewJeans still goes off in the club and that's good enough for me.  [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Every NewJeans song (except for the League of Legends one) is an expertly constructed rush of joy, but "Super Shy" is perhaps the most complete demonstration of why their formula works. The production and songwriting -- here handled by Frankie Scoca and Erica De Casier, two key figures in the "dancing alone in your room" space -- are great, obviously. But they're great in a very precise, measured way -- every aspect of "Super Shy" plays to the particular strengths of its performers. The skittering drums and dreamy synths come in and out of focus but the vocals are always given center stage, the simplicity of the melody and the unfussiness of the vocal performances making the crush pop lyrics seem at once artificial and deeply real. The appeal of NewJeans -- for me at least -- is in that strange crux: the fun that they're having is found exactly in the effort they're putting in. [9]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: Probably the slightest of NewJeans' singles thus far, "Super Shy" is nonetheless a delight. A fizzing little bundle of feelings, this may also be the most distinctively teenage song in NewJeans' catalog, which is appropriate -- they are indeed still teenagers, a truth I feel is still relevant to acknowledge. The push-and-pull of the drum'n'bass underpinnings balance a batch of diaphanous vocals, even more subtle than the vocal performances customary for NewJeans to date. The melodies are simple and relatively consistent, in contrast to the beat, which never settles -- it skitters, then thuds, bounces, disappears, phases back in, pulses -- always in motion. This is a very brief song, aside from just being a minimalist composition, and its pace goes some way to disguising its length, but not all the way. Given the teenage crush subject matter of "Super Shy", not to mention NewJeans' oeuvre as a whole, it feels almost poetically unsatisfying -- much like the vast majority of my teenage crushes, there's a lot of excitement without a complete payoff. Still, a very charming song.  [7]

Michael Hong: NewJeans watch their crush from afar. And yet it feels close. The group might have positioned themselves at the forefront of K-pop's current infatuation with club beats, but it's the low-key nature of their music, the minimalistic simplicity, that's so captivating. They're easy: "find a lil' spot, just sit and talk," the idea enough to render them giddy. "I'm all nervous cause you're on my mind all the time," they hum in a low buzz on the chorus, close to the rapid flutter of the drum 'n' bass production -- something so thrilling about divulging a crush that it makes you wish you had the courage to voice it to the object of your affection. [8]

Leah Isobel: On "Super Shy," NewJeans approach courtship as if it's a game of hopscotch. There's no fear of failure as there might be on songwriter Erika de Casier's version of this concept. Instead there's just bouncy, breezy momentum, sourced from their confidence and collective joy. As the girls trade off lines it becomes less about the one-to-one specificity of an individual relationship and more about the sweetness of connection itself, how the dances and rituals and games are evidence of the vast history and scope of human love, how each relationship is really the individual, internal universe reminding us of its congruity with the universe outside. We are all both the lover and the loved, all special, all super shy. [9]

Nortey Dowuona: Erika De Casier gave this team a very well crafted pop record that could never get the push or interest that it could done by a girl group of five. They're all good singers, but mostly indistinguishable from each other, blurring into a bright lilt that just fades behind the club kicks and only sparks to life on the line, "you don't even know my name, do ya?" It's the only stand out lyric, a deeply felt one at least due to the emphasis put on it, and the low bass synths just pops up and down, leaving the drums to move the song forward. They can only get so far, even chopping the vocals behind the only distinct lyric but leaving off with very little impression that the only one to have is that Erika de Casier gave this team a very well crafted pop record that could... [5]

Oliver Maier: The deft, reserved feel of NewJeans' second EP has been largely - probably correctly - attributed to Erika de Casier, who maybe relished the opportunity to condense her introverted RnB into sugary pop morsels. "Super Shy" has emerged as the consensus favourite and it's not hard to see why, between its zeitgesty DnB beat and nuclear earworm hook. It's not perfect: the verses are a bit incidental and it's just too short. But the way each member's voice cartwheels over another's with every successive chorus loop is magic. [9]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: This is all about the bubbling, butterflies-in-your-stomach space between "I'm super shy" and "Wait a minute while I make you mine." NewJeans punctuates it with the energy of five Powerpuff Girls on a mission to make their crush notice them. Super shy as in very shy, yes--but more so super shy, as in superheroes of shyness.  [9]

Andrew Karpan: Cool and iconically bouncy, it's a song about the ethereal placelessness of a crush, articulating a kind of online-era yearning that places the NewJeans crew in the present as much as any other literally bubbling club-lite touch. [9]

Kat Stevens: Hits the same buttons (Sweetness and Slaps) as T2's "Heartbroken".  [8]

Ian Mathers: I don't know what it says, about current trends in pop or about the amount of attention I've been paying, that this is a lot closer to the first PinkPantheress album than I would have guessed. Crossing my fingers that I'm not pulling a guy who has only seen Boss Baby about this. [7]

Alex Ostroff: If you had said even yesterday that I would be rating "Boy's a Liar Pt. 2" higher than "Super Shy" [spoilers!] I would have told you that you were crazy. But, weirdly, PinkPantheress' chorus has the ebullient bubbling fizzy burst of joy in the vocals that a song about a brand-new crush demands. "Super Shy" is an earworm, and the melody is everything I could possibly want, but NewJeans' delivery remains at the same level of enthusiasm throughout. I've had it on loop for the past 15 minutes and I could absolutely listen to it forever but every time we come back around to the chorus, I can't help but want the song to EXPLODE into emotions that match the subject. The closest it ever gets is circa "You don't even know my name, do you?" -- the group taking pleasure not in the feeling itself but in the safety of anonymity, the simple pleasure of a crush that makes you feel warm and makes you smile for a passing moment but which you know will never go anywhere, because you won't even say hi to them. Maybe that was inevitable for a song about being Super Shy, but I want them (and the song) to make that leap. [7]

Rachel Saywitz: I learned the entirety of the "Super Shy" dance a few months ago at an NYC studio I've been frequenting for the past year and a half. For weeks, I practiced waacking on the 7 train and went over complex step sequences in my apartment hallway in the dead of night. I'm not a great dancer, and K-pop choreography is often too advanced for my wobbly body to handle. But I saw something I could maybe replicate with "Super Shy": in the intricate poise of NewJeans' movements, the communal joy of their performances, that deceptively simple cheeriness. NewJeans reminds me of the times I used to practice T-ara's "Roly Poly" shuffle, The Wonder Girls' "Nobody" sway, Sana of Twice's "shy shy shy" part from "Cheer Up," almost every 2NE1 single. I think that's what makes the song sound so fresh, despite its obvious Jersey Club influences, its soft, plain vocal tones and innocent melodies, a trademark of co-writer Erika de Casier. There's no larger story that "Super Shy" ties into, no mind bending concept other than the pure thought of crushing on someone. I can embody that.  [9]

Alfred Soto: You could dance to "Super Shy" -- I could dance to "Super Shy" -- but the drums 'n' bass loop reflects the hum of a person struggling to get outside herself (think Everything But the Girl's run of mid '90s albums). The track is almost strong enough to support a conversation about the differences between shyness and introversion.  [6]

Katherine St Asaph: The drum-and-bass loop is super au courant but also super polite, meant less for the dance floor than one's interior headspace. And the headspace this song has in mind is curated and chill: no build, no tension, no dramatics, no end to repetition, just safe unchanging reverie. Which is pretty and all, but "Super Shy" is supposed to be a song about a crush, and this is not what a crush feels like. (For me, at least. Must be nice.) [6]

Jonathan Bradley: A drum-and-bass beat shrunk down small enough to fit inside a locket, a shimmery little keepsake to be tucked away close to your chest and swooned over in lost private moments. Even in the song's its final moments, when the rhythm picks up with an insistent pulse, the synths retain their smeared pastel sheen. It's shyness not as coquetry but seclusion: a pretty little song to keep on your nightstand next to a scrapbook and a compact mirror. [8]

Brad Shoup: I love drum'n'bass because it's as versatile as potatoes, able to soundtrack both speed-fueled mania and chaste lil crushes. Here, the drums are like home fries: tiny and crisp. "Super Shy" has the kind of massive hook that extends grace to everything around it: the perfunctory, rattled-off rap feels like the rehearsal for a heist. In fact, all the parts where NewJeans seem to be talking to someone else, rather than plotting around them, are less interesting to me. Dozens of listens on, the crush stuff seems like a fig leaf for the joy of devising the perfect scheme. [8]

Aaron Bergstrom: A song that peeks its head out from around a corner and then disappears down the street before you know what's happening, chasing a skittering beat that dissolves into finger snaps when the mood strikes. By the time you get to the corner there's nothing but a shimmer in the air. [6]

Joshua Lu: NewJeans's brand of easy listening music remains refreshing, but "Super Shy" feels like they're establishing a formula for the first time. The staccato percussion and the frantic vocals sound like they were imported from "Ditto" and then just laid over a different instrumental, this time some glacial muzak like you're on hold for the chicest insurance agency of all time. These sounds do combine nicely, but it can't help but feel undercooked, especially with the short runtime that stops the song from going anywhere truly interesting. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The genius of NewJeans began with "Ditto," when they flattened a Baltimore club beat into a wistful portrait of holiday gratitude: less a grandiose fireworks show than sparklers in a backyard. It transcended its modish, bedroom-pop approach to dance music because it wasn't strictly referential -- it toyed with musical conventions to capture the complex emotions of anyone too in their head. "Super Shy" is similar, adopting glossy drum 'n' bass as a conduit for crushing hard, fast, and with no plans for action. The secret is in the beat switch to Jersey club-isms, arriving right as "You don't even know my name, do ya?" provides the most sublime hook of the year. It's both a question and a proclamation, a sign of yearning and relief: if this crush remains a crush, then I can't get hurt, right? I heard "Super Shy" in the club the night it came out, but it's a song ultimately befitting daydreams -- the stuttering beat provides all the pleasure you need, no movement needed. Its antiseptic sheen isn't some utopian future, but the blissfully static present. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[iodotsys]

Exactly! I think exposing yourself to new music even if you end up not liking it is a huge part of learning what you do like too! (Also it's super cool that you're looking for inspiration for your own band!!)

Prob my last little batch for ya bc I'm at work:

Do It All The Time by IDK How

Ghost by Confetti

Lowlife by Poppy

The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake

Wasted Summers by Juju<3

This is Love by Air Traffic Controller

Do It All The Time by IDK How But They Found Me

The distortion (I believe its tube distortion I very well could be wrong though) on the vocals throughout the song felt like a bit too much. The melody didn't go anywhere, but it had a good beat. I have heard this song before and I don't think its one of the band's best. I don't really like this song much, just sounds produced for the radio. 5/10.

Ghost by Confetti

Sorta plain, sounds like a lot of songs I've heard. Definitely has a good beat, but not much going on with the song musically. Was enjoyable to listen to but again, it sounds like a lot of other songs out there, especially from the mid 2010's. 6/10.

Lowlife by Poppy

I have a love/hate relationship with Poppy. I have a few of their songs favorited. This is not one of the songs of theirs I like. I do enjoy how her voice is the melody for this song against a backtrack, but their voice is mixed far infront of the backtrack. It drowns it out. And there are times where their voice just stays on one note, which is a little painful to listen to. 4/10, kinda hurt my ears.

The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake

Didn't like, its spreading false information with the first lyric. Moss does not grow on the North side of trees. …fjrdkghsjkl Sorry I had to say that. XDD Anyhow, I enjoyed the up and down feel of this. I felt like I was listening to a vocal metronome, if that makes sense? Made me wanna tap my finger on the table to the beat. I enjoyed it, but I wouldn't listen to it again. 5/10

Wasted Summers by Juju<3

This song reminds me of old 90's Blur. The voice singing super off key in the background was annoying and ruined the song for me. Would've been a nice chill song otherwise. Other than that, the guitar rift was alright, nothing special though. 3/10 because of those backup vocals.

This is Love by Air Traffic Controller

The synth in this was very good. I loved the fluttering sound it had going from left to right. The pulsing sound of the vocals really went with the background synth. The singing off beat at the end was off putting though. It came out of no where and took me out of the groove of the song. I think he was doing a 1/2 meter against a 4/4 which was just strange sounding. (I don't know if those are the correct meters, but I did my best trying to analyze them) 5/10, it was alright.

No seriously, this type of stuff can be imperative as a musician. If I only stew in things I constantly listen to, that's damning myself to stagnate artistically. And thanks! My band's called Scent of Steam. I just released my first album this April and I've got a new single coming out on Sept 30th.

If you're curious, here's the link to my album. You can listen if you so desire, but nbd if not.

Thanks again for the songs! I enjoyed reviewing them.

[bellshazes]

ok well having listened to basically the full album I still think it's their best in a decade but that's easy bc delta machine came out in 2012. and this one opens with that slow pulsing & "don't play with my world" to delta machine's "welcome to my world" opening line with similar vibes. and while memento mori absolutely coheres in a way DM never quite managed, I think it suffers a lot in the back half. no song is bad, but the light industrial synth drones are so transparently toothless as the album drags on and you don't even get fucked up murder/obsession to liven it up, just sort of generic trite platitudes. just can't get enough was the same level of vapid but at least it had a beat and joy and an energy. this album was made to sit in a dark room with blacklist posters and a giant bong and maybe a tab of acid. that's fine but after what forty years I want more - but then again, after forty years maybe a really coherent and enjoyable mellow trip album that refines your darker roots into something just a little too polished is enough. and they got too weird and not polished on spirit which was imo a total flop and a waste of noise. to their credit this is like the 3rd most coherent album bc they have a lot of bangers but few end-to-end solid albums so congrats I guess. but I feel so let down after a promising start that flattened into more of the same. alone heading into slow had RANGE on top of the pseudosexy drug haze vibes and yeah the child inside is absolutely garbage but the album at least tried to justify itself.

this has been '80s bands no one my age is invested in review corner' with peter bellshazes. tune in next week when I realize mantaray is streaming again and I do my biannual re-ranking of every siouxsie album for no reason

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'This is Why' - Paramore

The disco! is dead. Fall Out Boy are... whatever the hell Fall Out Boy are these days. But Paramore continues to endure. 

Influencing everyone from Soccer Mommy to Lil Uzi Vert to Billie Eilish to WILLOW to Olivia Rodrigo (who famously gave writing credits to Hayley Williams and ex-guitarist Josh Farro on her hit single, ‘good 4 u’). 16 years later, ‘Misery Business’ will still get the room pumping. Paramore has almost single-handedly upended the emo/pop punk landscape. 

Interestingly, though, the band hasn’t dabbled much in emo or pop punk since the release of 2017’s After Laughter, an emotionally fraught record filled with jangling New Wave and day-glo synths. You can trace their pop pivot back even further with tracks like ‘Ain’t It Fun’ and ‘Still Into You’ from their 2013 self-titled album.  

So it’s only natural for the Tennessee trio to make yet another sonic shift on their latest album, this time in the form of post-punk and 2000s indie sleaze. Born out of post-lockdown malaise, This is Why is a record of two halves: the first half spiky and angular, powered by jittery sort of energy; the second half subdued and rather longing. 

The title track restlessly twists and turns like a snake in the desert heat until it explodes into a leery dance-punk chorus, Williams’ fierce demands coming off like seductive taunts. ‘The News’ is menacing and kinetic, echoing the all-consuming anxiety we feel at the 24-hour news cycle. ‘C’est Comme Ça’ has a snarky na-na-na-like energy that proves infectious, as divisive as it was upon release. 

‘Running Out of Time’ turns perpetual lateness into a funky 80s bop, Williams asking ‘What if I'm just a selfish prick? On highlight ‘You First’ she’s both ' the killer and the final girl,’ recalling the brooding and intense nature of Petals for Armor. 

Williams spends a lot of This is Why beating herself up: For not caring enough, for caring too much, for not owning up to her feelings, for wanting to relive more carefree times. She craves nostalgia; she scolds herself for attracting ‘broken people.’ She seemingly envies the ‘smooth operator in a shit-stained suit,’ the man who can pick up where he left off with no real consequences after causing a scandal. On ‘Liar,’ she struggles to admit her feelings to bandmate Taylor York. Even on ‘C’est Comme Ça,’ she finds adulthood a bore, wryly telling the listener that ‘it’s my dependence on the friction that really hinders my progression.’ 

Her sentiments are nothing new, her mixed feelings towards Paramore’s biggest hit probably the best example of this. Four years on, the singer still feels compelled to justify her more enlightened position on ‘Misery Business,’ even when no one asked.  

I’m inclined to agree with Spectrum Pulse, that it’s much more interesting to examine its ‘ugly emotional truth’ rather than try to distance yourself from it, especially from a feminist perspective. You don’t see Avril disowning ‘Girlfriend,’ not too dissimilar to ‘Misery Business’ in terms of romantic angst. 

Coming in at a tight 36 minutes, many have called This is Why Paramore’s most mature album yet and praised the band for supposedly growing out of their bratty punk phase, as if they only became jaded elder millennials just recently. But that’s kinda selling the trio short: They’ve always had a knack for sonic reinvention and have long possessed a maturity and jadedness beyond their years, culminating in their magnum opus, After Laughter, which almost saw them break up. For every snarky pop punk anthem like ‘Misery Business,’ there’s a ‘Brick by Boring Brick’ or ‘Hard Times.’ 

Though the record is not without its flaws. The post-punk influence is rather overstated and doesn’t really go beyond a handful of tracks. It also feels thematically scattered, placing personal introspection alongside rather vague and sometimes dated political statements.  

What else is there to say about pandemic-era politics that hasn’t already been said? How can William be so shocked and horrified at the stream of bad news that’s plagued us these past few years, then just... turn off the TV? Even this refrain from ‘The News’ – ‘Exploitative, performative, rhetorical… deplorable’ – feels like a bunch of buzzwords ripped straight from Twitter or the Tumblr blog of some smug teenage know-it-all circa 2014, crammed between a bunch of Sherlock and Supernatural gifs. For someone who’s been so politically vocal in recent years, who bared her soul so brilliantly on her solo work, Williams is oddly restrained on This is Why.   

Sonically, though, the album is pristine, delivering pop punk nostalgia and sleek rock grooves in equal measure. Notable mentions go to York’s indie stylings on ‘You First,’ Williams’ lush harmonies on ‘Liar’ and Zac Farro’s punchy drumwork on ‘Running Out of Time.’ 

While After Laughter saw a band on the verge of collapse, This is Why sees Paramore triumphantly bounce back. It might lack the sardonic wit and righteous fury of After Laughter or even Paramore, but it does remind us just how beautifully chaotic this band can truly be…  

- Bianca B.