#i love this song a whole lot and it's really hard to track down

[joanofarc]

the thought, dear nora (2002).

oh, the thought is so what i can hardly get around it

[norikuna]

LAST FRIDAY NIGHT — choso kamo

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (d) and let the show begin !

prologue. → it's been seven days since you wobbled into your apartment and almost threw up on your best friend. seven days since you confessed your love to him. seven days of radio silence as you've done your best to shut him out, hoping that the earth swallows you whole. there's no way he's going to want anything to do with you now!

but it's been years since choso had started silently loving you.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. choso kamo x afab!reader

warnings. vírgin!choso, spítting, kíssing, makíng out, thígh kínk (mild), yuuji being a menace 😭

word count. 8k! song inspiration. last friday night — katy perry

a/n. i can't believe i don't write for choso more. i really put a lot of love into this fic but i wish i had expanded on it a bit more 😭 one thing abt me is that i love adding side characters to cóck block

mp3. think we kissed, but i forgot!

"did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? breakups happen every day — you don't have to lose it."

you jab at the skip button like it's personally offended you, cutting off the mournful strains of the evermore bonus track mid-verse. normally, you'd let the singer's poetic misery hold your fragile heart in a pretty gentle chokehold, for she understood your heartbreak like a nobel laureate in emotional devastation. but not today.

not on this particularly dreary friday, right before christmas, where even ms. swift's dulcet agony felt obnoxiously on the nose.

pinned under the suffocating weight of your quilt, you let out a dramatic sigh that could rival a victorian heroine wasting away from heartache and humiliation.

with the theatrics of someone clawing their way out of a shipwreck, you work one arm free, waving it weakly into the air like your tragic signal of defeat.

the cocoon of your quilts and covers isn't warm nor comforting. it's a smothering trap, a quilted tomb of your own making.

"this is it," you mumble to the empty air of the apartment, your voice muffled by layers of fabric, "this is how i go."

the universe, for its part, remains unbothered by your suffering.

with a theatrical groan that would earn you a standing ovation in a one-person tragedy, you yank the quilt over your head. plunging yourself into darkness once more.

but unfortunately, the muffled strains of your 'sad girl winter' playlist refusing to take the hint seep through, like overly persistent ghosts of your bad decisions in the past. it seemed that evermore was feeling less like a balm for your soul, and more like the soundtrack to your public humiliation.

somewhere in the tangled chaos of your bed, half pillows and half-sulking regret, your poor and neglected nintendo switch lies face down like it gave up on your hours ago. its screen has long since gone dark, but if you listen hard enough, you can almost hear your animal crossing villagers whispering conspiratorially, drafting a formal petition to evict you.

no doubt tom nook is already sharpening his capitalist claws, repossessing your house with an unsettling amount of glee.

but the rest of your room is not much better. the string lights on your walls flicker half-heartedly, casting an uneven glow over the wreckage of the past week.

it's not the charming nor dramatic kind of mess that makes for an artsy photo dump. no, this is the slow and unflattering unravelling of someone who let life beat them up with zero resistance. if rooms could file restraining orders, yours would have done it by now.

teetering laundry piles of discarded sweatshirts are haphazardly stacked in the corner. nearby, an empty hot cocoa mug sits, sticky with the remnants of whipped cream. candy cane wrappers are strewn across the room, the aftermath of a peppermint explosion that made your jaw ache.

but the true centrepiece of this disaster? your phone, face down on your nightstand. neglected and on silent. the one object in this room that's probably begging for attention, and one that you've been skilfully ignoring. and yet, right on cue, it buzzes again.

lighting up with a contact number that you've been ignoring all week.

choso.

and you squint at the notification, at the glowing screen that makes your eyes sting in the dim light.

sweet, dependable and utterly loyal choso.

your best friend of over a decade. the one person that you can't bring yourself to face.

the one person that also deserves so much better than this radio silence, and yet the last person that you can humanly confront. especially not after what happened last friday night.

and here, good friends, lies the crux of your problem.

that doomed night, seven days ago, has mostly dissolved into a series of blurry and fragmented snapshots. like a bad, half-finished film that you'd walked out of halfway through.

but the lead up? oh, you remember that part with the kind of clarity that should have been reserved for more important moments.

you could still feel the heat of storming out of that overpriced restaurant, half-drunk and fully pissed off, tears streaming down your cheeks and thickening your throat.

your ex-boyfriend? well, he had been your current boyfriend, before he decided to break up with you. in public. for all that classy, emotional damage that was so in character for him.

and with a line so perfectly cliché, it practically begged to be immortalised on a 'worst breakup excuses' list in cosmopolitan: i'm sorry, baby. i just don't see it working anymore. we're just too different. oh! and i found someone else.

oh, sure. but you should have been glad to have been rid of the man-child that thought frankenstein was the monster's name, the man who commented 'oxford study' on innocent tiktoks, and called pinterest 'girl instagram.'

god, what a fuckin' loser.

fuelled by a mix of public-induced heartache and questionable tequila choices, you had practically charged across street crossing. your feet hitting the pavement with the reckless kind of abandon reserved for teenagers sneaking out after curfew.

and there choso had been in your apartment. your best friend had been sitting cross-legged on your rug, surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbons. probably wrapping yuuji's christmas gifts with military precision. he had been balancing a roll of tape in his mouth, scissors over his lap dangerously close to the family jewels. but you had barrelled through the door like a feral cat in a downpour.

his eyes had widened, a little startled, as you made your entrance. the tape had fallen out of his mouth, chestnut hair falling over his face as he gaped. you couldn't blame choso, of course. you had looked entirely like a bedraggled, disheveled mess in a storm. cheeks streaked with mascara trails, but then everything went...fuzzy?

what did you remember? crying. lots of it.

and boy, was it a show. the kind of weeping where your face contorts into a puffed-up, berry-red disaster, and you would feel the headache creeping in even before the tears had finished.

choso's arms had caught you before you could face plant into the couch. solid, broad. warm and familiar.

you had caught the scent of clove and pepper, alongside faint citrus that you had been associating with him over the years. you had been saying something, raw and desperate.

your words had spilled out of you like water from a broken faucet.

and here you were now, reaping the glorious consequences of your own unfiltered word vomit.

seven days of stewing in your own shame and regret. but seven days were not enough to undo this level of self-sabotage. you briefly considered the options: faking amnesia, dropping out of university entirely, or best case scenario — moving to antarctica and herding emperor penguins.

you groan, sinking deeper into the abyss of your covers. and then, of course, your phone buzzed again. the dull and persistent vibration drilled into your skull like a tiny, digital drill.

cho 💜

(01:09am) hey, are you doing okay? (08:42am) tell me if you need anything! (04:23pm) hello? did i do something?

you peek at the screen, trying to avoid making eye contact with the tiny and terrifying letters. your sheet mask scrunches uncomfortably, making you look like a particularly pathetic mummy. choso's sweet and utterly patient messages were a sharp control to your gross sulk, and his concern makes you want to curl into a ball and crawl into a snowbank.

outside, christmas snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a soft and untouched white. it was like something out of a dream, a world of calm and peace. peace that your trifling ass didn't deserve.

if choso wanted to speak to you, he'd have to drag you out of your self-imposed misery himself. and even if he were to arrive at your apartment door, he'd only find a note tacked to the wall. with a map leading to the south pole.

so, what exactly had happened last friday night?

the memory rolls out like an old film reel, all jagged and distorted. the kind that you can't skip, even if you wanted to. it comes in fragments, each one more excruciatingly clear than the last. the haze of vodka-infused whipped cream shots over hot drinks slowly melting away like a bad handover.

the door to your apartment? you remember that part with embarrassing clarity. you had kicked it open with awful, ragged flair. your heel slipping on the floor, and you had nearly stacked it. face-first into your own doorway, standing there with the grace of a giraffe on roller skates.

the second the door had slammed shut behind you, a gust of frigid winter shot through the apartment like a chill reminder of your situation.

choso had been sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, in the midst of complete, barbaric chaos. the roll of mauve wrapping paper teetered precariously on his dark jeans, and scissors dangled from his lap while a stripe of tape was wedged between his teeth. in between the mess of clippings and discarded tape, he seemed more like an absurdly morose-looking christmas elf that had been tasked with being santa's helper after an entire bottle of mulled wine.

but as you had walked in, or rather stumbled in, his gaze had shot up. his chestnut hair falling in messy curtains around his face, with one unruly strand intertwined with a red-white rogue ribbon. choso's face had twisted in alarm, his usual solemn manner replaced by someone who looked like they were trying to figure out whether they needed to brace themselves for good or bad news.

"hey," he had said, voice soft but sharp, like he was trying to handle fragile glass. choso had spat the tape out of his mouth unceremoniously, and he had been tugging the ribbon free rom his hair, concern all over his fine features, "what's wrong? are you okay?"

and you? a disaster. drunk, crying, furious. the recipe for an emotional molotov cocktail.

"i hate him," you had snarled, yanking off your beige coat, hurling it in the general direction of the couch. instead, your aim missed entirely. flopping halfway onto the floor, and halfway across choso's knee.

choso simply plucked the coat off his leg with two fingers, gingerly draping it over the arm of the couch. your best friend was frowning as he set down his oversized scissors, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. amber-hazel eyes flicked to yours, wide with alarm as he stepped closer, "are you hurt? is this about —?" he was hesitating, "your boyfriend?"

"no, my ex-boyfriend!" the words were ripped out of you, and your voice pathetically cracked halfway through as tears spilled down your flushed cheeks, "and 'm not hurt, cho. unless you count emotional damage," punctuating your statement with a tragic, breathy hiccup.

choso's perpetual frown deepened, as thick and unruly brows knit together, "okay," he said, voice low and steady, "do you want to sit down? i can get you some water, wait." his steps are slow, purposeful as he closes the distance between you gently, with measured care. or like he was defusing a bomb.

but you were having none of his gentle care, "no, i don't want water! i want — i want to un-date him," you wail, arms flailing as you start pacing like a caffeinated hamster, "god, i'm so stupid for dating him in the first place. and yes, i know, stop looking at me like that. i know you want to say i told you so, but he's such a —," you pause mid-rant, clawing the air for the right word, "a troll. a goblin, an ogre."

choso blinks, "maybe you should just get some fresh water in you," but there's an underlying layer of grimacing amusement painted over his quiet features, "and i didn't even say i told you so."

"no," you blurt, your head snapping so fast that your neck immediately files a complaint in the form of a sharp crick, "i don't want water. i want —"

and then, your brain short-circuited. because that's when you'd actually looked at him. like really looked.

warm hazel eyes framed by dark, sleepless circles that seemed to follow choso around like cursed ghosts. soft, feathery strands of mahogany hair that refused to stay tied back, and tumbled rebelliously into his face. that damn sweatshirt, loose and charcoal gray, and perfectly slouched over his broad shoulders. the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal forearms so solid that they could make a renaissance sculptor pack and quit.

and like a freight train at full speed, like whee-woo, the realisation hit you. choso kamo.

your best friend in the entire world. your steady and reliable, and kind to a fault best friend. better than any stupid ex that you'd ever had.

and because tequila is the nectar of chaos, and heartbreak has no filter, your mouth decided to unleash the words that you would haunt you for the next week.

"i should have been dating you."

the room is silent, as choso freezes entirely. like someone had smacked the pause button on him, and his hand, mid-reach for a glass of water, stops cold. his eyes are wide, mouth parting as though he hadn't yet processed what you had said.

"what?" choso finally manages, the words soft and stunned, like he wasn't sure that he had heard you correctly.

you, in your infinite wisdom (or rather, drunken idiocy), barrelled on like a bull who had just seen red cloth, "i'm so serious! you're the one i should've been with all along!"

you wave a hand at him, as if showcasing him to an invisible jury, "you're smart and you're sweet, and you actually care about me, unlike him!"

choso blinks, his expression unreadable, "okay," he says slowly, setting the glass back down on the table, "i think maybe, uh, you should sit down?"

"i don't wanna sit down, i want you to stop looking so perfect right now."

there's a faint flush creeping up choso's neck, like red pigment staining cream watercolour canvas, "perfect?"

"yes!" you hiccuped, teetering over the couch, "you're supposed to be my best friend, and instead you just stand there with your stupid forearms, and your everything, and it's not fair!"

choso doesn't move, doesn't even speak. just stands there, vaguely dumbstruck. like you had hung the moon, and then yanked it back down to earth to hurl it at his chest.

"i should've been dating you, cho," you declare again, louder this time, and your finger jabs his broad chest like it was somehow his fault, "you're the best, y'know that? and you're so hot, how did i not realise this sooner?"

your best friend's expression goes on a journey of varying emotions, shock and disbelief, panic and confusion. all while his candied pink lips open and close, "uh," because by now, eloquence had left the room for both parties. his hands hovering awkwardly like he wasn’t sure whether to steady you or flee. his ears noticeably red, the flush creeping down his neck.

but drunk-dumped you wasn't done. oh no, this was your oscar moment. the hill you were going to die on. the ted talk that no one asked for.

and you were on a roll now, "i mean, look at you! you've got the broody, hot guy thing down so well, and you know that's my type. and everyone knows it, like why aren't we dating already?"

choso's mouth curls again, but no sound comes out. he looks like he wants to crawl into a snowbank and bury himself there forever, "okay, i think maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself, or, uh, the furniture."

"i'm fine!" you'd declared, throwing your arms up in defiance just as your knees decided that they were absolutely not fine. you wobbled, and in an instant, choso's warm hands are on your shoulders, steadying you with ease.

the searing heat of his touch makes your heart lurch in a way that felt far too real for comfort. you look up at him, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles dusting his nose, and your breath hitches.

he's close enough now that his lips could press against yours with the mere turn of his head. but you know that choso's just too kind and thoughtful to kiss you in this state right now. he also looks like he's about to gently suggest that you pull yourself together. you wouldn't know, because you've just bulldozed right over him with zero brakes.

tears stream down your face still, but they're starting to slow. sticky and hot, tacking to your cheeks, as you deliver the final blow, "if i asked you to kiss me now — like genuinely right now, would you, cho?"

you would never know what choso's reply would be, because you hiccup violently. the kind that punches your chest and makes you sway. fate was never done with you, because your stomach lurches in warning. you had clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with panic.

choso, bless his heart, had looked ready to throw himself in front of you, "bathroom. now," he'd commanded, his voice taking on a rare, firm edge.

and that's right where your memory cut off, mercifully plunging you into the black void of your vodka-soaked brain. no idea if you'd made it to bathroom. no idea if you'd thrown up all over him, classy as always.

but the last thing you did remember, the thing that haunted you eve now, like a ghost tapping on your shoulder, was the look on choso's face. wide-eyed, jaw slack. like you had flipped his entire world upside down.

choso sits cross-legged on the cold dorm floor, the faint creak of wood beneath him. in his hands is a neatly wrapped gift, small and unassuming. but painstakingly chosen for you. the crimson ribbon, shiny and festive, catches the light of the desk lamp.

it wasn't extravagant, nothing flashy nor pricey. but it was thoughtful, personal. something that he had picked out weeks ago, back when everything between you two had been normal.

back when you didn't look at your phone, and decide he wasn't worth answering.

choso's thumb grazes the corner of the box, smoothing over the edges of the paper that he had meticulously folded after watching youtube tutorials. but now? the box felt heavier than it had any right to. would you even want this anymore? would you even want to see him?

choso sighs, letting his head tip back against the edge of his bed frame. it was a tight and awful feeling, something small and sharp that had wormed its way into his chest.

it wasn't just the silence. it wasn't even the unanswered texts or the way you’d been avoiding him like he was the human incarnation of bad news.

it was the fact that you were you. his best friend. the person he always knew how to read — until now, when everything felt scrambled.

he stares at the gift again, his brows furrowing. he'd been turning this over in his mind for seven straight days, wearing grooves into his thoughts like a track stuck on repeat. did you regret it? did you even remember what you said?

and worse — what if you did mean it?

that last thought was the one that always hit hardest. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into his face. somewhere on his desk, his phone buzzed softly, and for a second, his pulse jumped. but when he checked, it wasn't you.

because of course it wasn’t.

"pathetic," choso muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

seven days.

seven long, agonising days since you'd stumbled into your apartment like the ghost of heartbreak past — tear-streaked, half-drunk, and dropping words so raw they’d knocked the air out of choso's lungs.

seven days since you’d looked at him like he was everything good in the world — right before nearly puking on him and passing out on the couch in a heap of drunken devastation.

and seven days of brutal radio silence ever since.

choso groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he slouched against the edge of his bed. he got it — why you'd be embarrassed. he, he was still processing it, the memory looping in his head like a cursed highlight reel.

"you're amazing, cho. you're perfect."

the words echoed, soft and slurred, over and over like a broken record choso couldn’t shut off. a selfish part of him — a really shameful, awful part — had been glad your ex was out of the picture. not that it was a surprise; choso had never liked that guy. too loud, too cocky. the kind of guy who thought buying overpriced cologne absolved him of skipping deodorant.

but then there was the other part of him — the one that made him feel like a jerk. the part that felt guilty for feeling anything at all. because he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you.

choso wasn't supposed to have spotify playlists privately curated with all your favourite songs. wasn't supposed to have started buying extra hair ties, just because the thought of you stealing one was so annoyingly appealing.

and he definitely wasn't supposed to have been quietly, hopelessly in love with you for five years and counting.

how many times had he messaged now? four? five? enough that he was starting to feel like that guy, the one who couldn’t take a hint. what if you'd sobered up and realised last friday was just drunk nonsense? what if you didn't like him like that at all?

had he not spent seven days drowning his misery in tubs of mango and pistachio ice cream? enough was enough.

choso's thumb hovered over your contact for a long, stupid second, debating whether to send one more pointless text. but before he could add another "hey, just checking in," he swiped away and hit a different contact. a boisterous teenager with a shock of pink hair.

he shoots off a quick text, almost grimacing as he hits send.

Choso Kamo: Need advice. Got a hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: if this is smth weird i'm not googling it for u

choso rolled his eyes, already regretting this decision. but he needed to hear an outside opinion.

Choso Kamo: It's not weird, serious this time. If someone confesses something private to you while they are drunk, then avoids you for a week, what do you do? Hypothetically?

a pause, and then:

yuujithegoat2003: is this someone a hot girl lol

choso sighed, his dry lips twitching despite himself.

Choso Kamo: Yes. Also, serious answers only. yuujithegoat2003: ok ok. do they remember what they said? Choso Kamo: Most likely not.

yuujithegoat2003: huh...so did they say something good? or was it rude? Choso Kamo: It was good. Really quite good. yuujithegoat2003: bro this seems easy, just ask if they meant it.

choso blinked at his phone, at the...almost reasonable response. suspiciously reasonable, coming from his younger brother.

Choso Kamo: And if they freak out? Or say that they didn't mean it? yuujithegoat2003: then u say 'just kidding' and blow the place up and leave the country. i can get u a fake id, i know a guy. i know lots of guys.

Choso Kamo: You need to stop being influenced by Gojo Satoru. Just because his public break-up landed on national news does not make it a premise for my own situation. Hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: ok, gojo just said no one gaf abt your love life anyway. seriously tho if u like this hypothetical person, just be chill. don't be all intense and scare them off bc its never that deep.

Choso Kamo: Love is that deep. Especially when you care for the other person a lot. yuujithegoat2003: ur so dramatic bro. anyway good luck.

yuujithegoat2003: also if you get rejected don't tell me bc i can't handle second hand embarrassment. thx. gtg to work. these pizzas don't deliver themselves ay

choso glances down at the gift still in his lap, the ribbon he'd so painstakingly tied now a little crushed — much like his pride. the box stares back at him accusingly, as if to say, what's the plan here, genius? wait for her to magically show up?

choso exhales through his nose, sharp and frustrated. sitting here wallowing wasn’t doing him any favours, and neither was yuuji's unhelpful voice.

"yeah, sure," he mutters under his breath, shoving the box into his jacket pocket. he stands abruptly, grabbing his jacket off the back of his desk chair.

if you weren’t going to talk to him, fine. he'd bring the conversation to you. answers, he thought, stepping out into the cold. the winter air bit at his face, but it was bracing, grounding even. one way or another, tonight was going to settle this.

the knocking was relentless.

you tried to ignore it at first, clutching your blanket like it was a shield against all outside forces. whoever was at the door would get the hint eventually. probably. hopefully.

but no, the knocking persisted, evolving into a deliberate rhythm, like some overzealous drummer auditioning for a garage band.

"unbelievable," you groaned, peeling your headphones off and tossing them onto the pillow where they landed with a hollow clatter. if this was the pizza guy you'd ordered from two hours ago, he was wildly late, and you were too broke to tip him anyway.

dragging yourself off the mattress felt like an olympic event. your legs wobbled, your blanket fortress collapsed behind you, and your pride was buried somewhere under the covers still. at least you'd showered earlier — small victories.

your damp hair dripped cold trails down the back of your oversized sweatshirt, and you caught a whiff of cocoa butter as you shuffled to the door. that was…something acceptable at least. but then the mirror by the entryway betrayed you, reflecting sleep-swollen eyes, and the faint ghost of face mask residue clinging stubbornly to your skin.

perfect. a vision of grace and dignity.

you yank the door open, ready to unleash a pointed what do you want? — but the words lodge somewhere in your throat.

smooth. and oh, just your luck.

there stood choso, a walking anomaly in the drab matrix of your sad little existence. his tall frame fills the doorway, backlit by the flickering hallway light, clad in a baggy black tee and faded denim that didn't quite match the nervous energy rolling off him in waves. his hair was tied up in a messy bun, spiky strands sticking out like an afterthought, and of course, he looked unfairly good for someone who had probably spent the past week avoiding the sunlight.

"uh, hey," he says, his voice softer than usual — careful, even. like he thought you might throw the nearest piece of furniture at him and sprint into the night.

"hey?" you echo, voice brittle as you folded your arms tighter. the sweatshirt you were wearing — his sweatshirt, one that he had left here weeks ago — suddenly felt two sizes too big and painfully obvious, "what are you doing here?"

choso scratches the back of his neck, his gaze flickering over you briefly before darting to the floor, "i needed to see you."

"at…eight at night? without warning?"

"would you have answered if i'd texted you?"

the air between you stilled as your brain scrambles for a retort, but he had you dead to rights. with a reluctant huff, you step aside. "fair point. just come in."

choso hesitates for half a second before stepping inside, his presence making your already small apartment feel even more claustrophobic. he's taking a quick glance around, and you watched, mortified, as his eyes landed on the pile of crumpled tissues precariously close to a half-drunk mug of cocoa and a bottle of jack daniel's teetering on the edge of the coffee table.

"sorry for the mess," you mutter, your voice defensive as you crossed your arms tighter.

"it's fine," choso says, a little too quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. his gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary, "i didn't mean to…interrupt."

"you didn't interrupt anything." you wave vaguely at the disaster zone that was your apartment.

choso's lips twitch, almost like he wanted to smile but wasn't sure if now was the time, "look, i just —" he trails off, his usual dull voice faltering as he pulled something small and neatly wrapped from his pocket, "i came to give you this. and talk."

you stare at the gift in his hands, shiny crimson ribbon and all, your pulse kicking up like it had somewhere urgent to be, "christmas came early? thanks, cho," you say, mirroring his words with the kind of ease that only comes from too many shared silences. "i'm fine, though. i wasn't up to much."

choso cracks a small, half-hearted smile, but it's like watching a flicker of light in a dim room — there, but not really there. "i tried texting," he says, glancing at you, searching for something.

"i know," you murmur, suddenly finding the floor very interesting, "i just wasn't in the mood for much talking."

choso huffs, a sound halfway between exasperation and amusement, "i noticed," he says dryly, and that only makes the air in the room more thick and uncomfortable.

you sigh, letting your shoulders slump as you flop back onto the couch, curling your knees up to your chest like you're trying to make yourself small enough to disappear, "so, what? you came here to check if i'm still breathing?"

"kind of," choso admits, settling awkwardly on the edge of your coffee table, his long legs folded beneath him in that way that makes him look like he’s trying to physically contain himself. his knees bump into yours, and you have to fight the urge to pull away, like you could get too close, "but mostly...i came to talk about last friday night."

your stomach does a horrifying little flip, the kind that sends cold fingers crawling up your spine. you stare at him, silently willing him to read the begging look in your eyes and back off, but he doesn't. he's never been the type to take the hint.

"i've been thinking about it all week," he continues, his voice quiet but steady, as if he's preparing himself for something big, "and i need to know if —"

"nope," you interrupt, holding up a hand, "nope. we're not going there."

choso blinks at you, like he's trying to process the sudden barricate that you've just put up. but you're so not ready for this conversation, not now, nor ever. and you'll be damned if he gets any closer to the minefield. he scowls, his brows knitting together like he's resisting the urge to push you off the couch, "why not?"

"because it doesn't matter, okay?" you lean your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like you can will this conversation away, "i was drunk as hell, cho. you're overthinking it."

he scoffs, his voice sharp now, like he's cutting through your flimsy deflection with a blade, "i don't think i am."

you wince, shrinking a little under the weight of his stony gaze, "why does this even matter?"

"you think i can just brush it off like it didn't happen?" and there's a rawness in choso's voice that hits you harder than expected.

your cheeks heat up, a fiery blush creeping up your neck, "i didn't mean it," you mutter.

"yes, you did," choso snaps back, with uncharacteristic heat, and he leans forward, enough to close the distance between you two, "and you know how i know? because you've been ignoring me all week. if it was just some drunk nonsense, you would have laughed it off by now. but you haven't."

you open your mouth to argue, to push back. but the words stick heavy in your throat. nothing comes out, and it must prove choso all the more right, because you watch as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth, suddenly watching plush skin split.

"do you want me to apologise?" you ask finally, voice a little too sharp for comfort, "because i will. i'll say i'm sorry for putting you in that position and —"

"i don't want an apology," choso cuts you off, and the dim light of your apartment makes the dark circles under his eyes stand out like bruises, "i want the truth."

you freeze, your heart thudding like a drum in your chest, "what truth, cho?"

"that you meant it," choso says softly, "that you meant it when you said that you wish it had been me."

the words hang in the air, heavy and electric. your breath catches, as your mind goes blank. an entire power outage, as you blink at him like a fish out of water. finally, after what feels like an eternity, you force the knot in your throat to loosen just enough to speak, "yeah," you whisper, "i meant it."

choso's whole body seems to deflate, like he's been holding up the weight of the sky. his shoulders slump, and the sheer relief on his face hits you like a tidal wave. it's almost enough to undo you. there's a sound, soft and shaky and far too vulnerable that escapes him.

neither of you move. the moment stretches out, fragile. like it could snap in half if either of you dared to breathe too loud.

then, choso is the first to move.

there's no hesitation, no uncertainty. just pure intention, like a dam finally bursting open. he shifts forward, hands finding their way to your waist with an urgency that makes your pulse go into overdrive. choso's grip is firm, but there's a reverence to it, as if you're something he's waited his entire life to touch. he pulls you to him, and you can feel the heat of him flood your chest, your blood, your bones.

"what if you regret this?" you murmur into his chest, voice muffled as your arms slip around his necks, holding onto the beautiful man like he may float way.

"not a chance," choso replies, and his voice is raspier than you've ever heard it, like he's saying it more to himself than to you.

choso kamo finally kisses you.

the kind of kiss that feels like a storm is finally breaking over clear skies, with an unrestrainted longing that crashes over the both of you.

his sweet lips meet yours with a hunger that makes your head spin, raw and real. choso clearly doesn't want to hold back, and neither do you.

his hands tighten at your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly at russet strands.

choso groans into your mouth, a soft and burning thing that ignites every nerve in your body.

without breaking his hold on your lips, his wide hands slide down, finding the back of your thighs, making you shamefully clench them closer together.

but he's tapping them in silent invitation, and you leap into him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. the world around you blurs as he stumbles backwards.

and when the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed, gravity does its job. you both tumble into the mattress in a jumbled mess of limbs and muffled laughter, your heart pounding so loud, as you muster up the courage to prod your tongue at his lips, letting him part his mouth so you can take up more of choso.

you land beneath him, his weight pressing into you in the best way possible, sending sharp spikes of heady arousal through you. and you blink up at him, breathless.

choso is so close now, his hazel eyes locked on yours with a rare intensity, like the calm façade is entirely shattered now. but there's a smile on his lips, a crooked little thing that sends a rush of warmth through you.

"hi, choso," you whisper, your voice soft yet breathless as he chases your lips again, a desperate hunger in his eyes. it's as if he can't bear to be apart from you, even for a heartbeat.

"hey," he murmurs back, that low rumble sending shivers down your spine, igniting a heat you can't ignore.

you keep pressing kisses to his glossy lips, the world narrowing down the press of his mouth and how choso's hands cradle your waist like you might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

without breaking contact, choso shifts, his strong hands guiding you gently, firmly.

"don' wanna crush you," he spills against your mouth, his voice low and rough, and before you can reply, he flips you effortless.

the movement is seamless, fluid even. and you're suddenly perched atop him, straddling his thighs and sinking into the worn denim of his jeans.

he's leaning back against the covers beneath him, as his chest rises and falls in unsteady waves as he gazes up at you. expression caught somewhere between awe and hunger.

choso looks so completely, heartbreakingly in love with you that it leaves you breathless. his hands tighten on your waist, fingertips pressing with a near bruising intensity into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt that clings to your frame.

his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling pink, and you can't help the soft, teasing coo that slips from your lips as you trace the curve of his temple with gentle fingers, "is something wrong, cho?" you murmur.

his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss, part slightly, his breath uneven and catching on the edges of unspoken emotions, "nothing. nothing, i swear," he says, the words tumbling out rough and raw, his voice pitched low and vulnerable.

his hands slide you closer, his grip firm but trembling slightly, and his next confession nearly undoes you, makes your core moisten even, "just…never done this before."

"really?" you whisper, eyes widening as you take him in — the flush on choso's cheeks, the way he won't quite meet your gaze, the way he holds you like you're something precious.

the realisation that he's never shared this part of himself with anyone else tugs sharply at your heartstrings, "never?"

choso swallows thickly, nodding once, his voice a quiet hum as he admits, "mhm."

"ah, you're so cute, cho," you giggle, watching as the man scrunches his nose in mock protest.

"tch, 'm not meant to be cute."

you huff, feigning disappointment, "and here i was, wishing you a very merry christmas eve." he whines as you lean in, pressing a teasing kiss to his neck, right where his heartbeat thrums beneath his pale skin. your lips find their home at the juncture, and you can't help but smile at the way he whines at your touch, bucks his hips up into yours.

"must have been real good to get a holiday gift like this."

you pull back just enough to admire your handiwork, a little red bloom that blossoms on thin skin, bruised petals that mark him now. choso's swallowing thickly, his adam's apple bobbing, as a soft whine escapes his lips again as you lean in, this time closer to the jaw. leaving a trail of kisses in a messy that makes choso squirm.

you press your thumb against his lower lip, feeling the soft and trembling skin quiver under your touch, "hey. open up," you coax, a teasing lilt colouring your voice.

choso looks up at you, his wide eyes clouded with desire as dark strands of hair fall across his forehead, "huh, what?"

you tap his lip again, impatience bubbling in your chest, "c'mon, open your mouth. properly," and the way he immediately obeys, parting his glossy lips sends a thrill through you. the scent of clove and citrus envelops you as you lean in closer, running your tongue over his lower lip.

you let a glob of spit fall from your lip into his mouth, with a thick thwack! echoing in the air. you deliberately miss, just a little bit, to watch him squirm as he swallows, eyes fluttering shut and inky lashes staining his cheeks.

"so good, aren't you? good at playing nice, hah," you use your thumb to smear the slick over his lips, just a bit. to watch him shudder, entirely captivated by you. it's exhilarating and makes your cunt clench around nothing. probably seeping through the thin material of your shorts and onto his thick jeans.

bang bang bang!

a sharp knock that booms at your door, enough to make your ears ring. you hear choso groan beneath you, shifting slightly so you can feel the full, thick curve of his bulge right where you need him most.

"think we can ignore that?" he rasps, his voice rough and low, the sound of it leave slick strands clinging between your thighs.

you spread your legs just a little wider over him, watching as his frown dissipates and his jaw drops, distracted by the preview you've given him, "i'm really hoping so."

but whoever is at the door has no intention of being ignored. another knock rattles the wood, followed by an all-too-familiar voice yelling, "hey! open up! delivery!"

your brows furrow, recognition sparking, "cho, isn't that—"

he cuts you off with an apologetic sigh, lifting you off his lap with surprising gentleness. choso sets you down on the quilt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before muttering under his breath, "it better not be."

you watch him go, more than a little distracted by the sight of his broad shoulders and the way his messy hair bobs with each step. already, you're plotting exactly how you’ll get your hands back in it once he returns.

choso swings the door open, and you hear a collective, "what the hell?" echo through the apartment — one part you, one part choso, and one part…

"itadori yuuji?" you blurt, leaning over to get a look. sure enough, there's choso's younger brother, standing in the doorway in a bright red pizza delivery uniform, balancing three large boxes in one hand and his phone in the other.

yuuji blinks at the two of you, then raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and something vaguely accusatory before reading off his phone in a robotic voice, "uh…merry christmas eve. i have three pizzas. extra cheese. stuffed crust," he pauses, not able to keep the act up as his golden eyes narrow, "but, uh — bro, what happened to your face?"

you bite your lip to keep from laughing as choso straightens, his expression caught somewhere between mortified and furious, "yuuji—"

but the younger man's attention shifts to you, his gaze taking in the oversized sweatshirt you're wearing, choso's sweatshirt, and his jaw drops, "oh hell no. this is the hot girl you texted me about?"

choso visibly flinches as you burst into giggles.

"that's like your best friend? that's like my sister-in-law!" yuuji throws up his hands in mock disbelief, "you really keep your circles tight, huh, man?"

before choso can even respond, yuuji leans in closer, squinting at his older brother, "and seriously, dude, what's all that on your face?"

choso groans, snatching the pizzas from yuuji with one hand and shoving him toward the hall with the other, "okay, that's enough. get out."

"you haven't paid me! that's against the law!" yuuji protests, but choso grabs the scruff of his brother's uniform collar, steering him out the door.

"i'll pay you double. triple. just leave."

"my pizzas are probably cold now anyway," you call out, adding fuel to the fire.

"yeah? well, you look a bit too busy to eat them anyway," yuuji swivels his head over his shoulder to wag a finger at you with a grin, before choso finally shoves him fully into the hallway.

as the door slams shut, you hear yuuji's muffled voice echoing, "i'm telling everyone. i'm telling dad. i'm telling sukuna. i'm telling gramps, gojo, nanami —"

you can hear their bickering voices fade down the hallway, to where choso is probably gonna pack him into the car and send him off.

you glance down at the box you'd set aside earlier, your curiosity getting the better of you. carefully pulling at the ribbon, you open it to find a small scrapbook, beautifully made. inside are photos and clippings of you and choso: movie ticket stubs, receipts from late-night takeout runs, train tickets from your trip to the coast.

your chest tightens as you run your fingers over the familiar handwriting scrawled in the margins, a quote from a cheesy romantic movie that you had forced choso to watch with you a few months ago. what an honour it is to be loved like this.

[badnewswhatsleft]

2023 september - rock sound #300 (fall out boy cover) scans

transcript below cut!

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

With the triumphant ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ capturing a whole new generation of fans, Fall Out Boy are riding high, celebrating their past while looking towards a bright future. Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump reflect on recent successes and the lessons learned from two decades of writing and performing together.

WORDS: James Wilson-Taylor PHOTOS: Elliot Ingham

You have just completed a US summer tour that included stadium shows and some of your most ambitious production to date. What were your aims going into this particular show?

PETE: Playing stadiums is a funny thing. I pushed pretty hard to do a couple this time because I think that the record Patrick came up with musically lends itself to that feeling of being part of something larger than yourself. When we were designing the cover to the album, it was meant to be all tangible, which was a reaction to tokens and skins that you can buy and avatars. The title is made out of clay, and the painting is an actual painting. We wanted to approach the show in that way as well. We’ve been playing in front of a gigantic video wall for the past eight years. Now, we wanted a stage show where you could actually walk inside it.

Did adding the new songs from ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ into the setlist change the way you felt about them?

PATRICK: One of the things that was interesting about the record was that we took a lot of time figuring out what it was going to be, what it was going to sound like. We experimented with so many different things. I was instantly really proud. I felt really good about this record but it wasn’t until we got on stage and you’re playing the songs in between our catalogue that I really felt that. It was really noticeable from the first day on this tour - we felt like a different band. There’s a new energy to it. There was something that I could hear live that I couldn’t hear before.

You also revisited a lot of older tracks and b-sides on this tour, including many from the ‘Folie à Deux’-era. What prompted those choices?

PETE: There were some lean years where there weren’t a lot of rock bands being played on pop radio or playing award shows so we tried to play the biggest songs, the biggest versions of them. We tried to make our thing really airtight, bulletproof so that when we played next to whoever the top artist was, people were like, ‘oh yeah, they should be here.’ The culture shift in the world is so interesting because now, maybe rather than going wider, it makes more sense to go deeper with people. We thought about that in the way that we listen to music and the way we watch films. Playing a song that is a b-side or barely made a record but is someone’s favourite song makes a lot of sense in this era. PATRICK: I think there also was a period there where, to Pete’s point, it was a weird time to be a rock band. We had this very strange thing that happened to us, and not a lot of our friends for some reason, where we had a bunch of hits, right? And it didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t make sense to me. But there was a kind of novelty, where we could play a whole set of songs that a lot of people know. It was fun and rewarding for us to do that. But then you run the risk of playing the same set forever. I want to love the songs that we play. I want to care about it and put passion into what we do. And there’s no sustainable way to just do the same thing every night and not get jaded. We weren’t getting there but I really wanted to make sure that we don’t ever get there. PETE: In the origin of Fall Out Boy, what happened at our concerts was we knew how to play five songs really fast and jumped off walls and the fire marshal would shut it down. It was what made the show memorable, but we wanted to be able to last and so we tried to perfect our show and the songs and the stage show and make it flawless. Then you don’t really know how much spontaneity you want to include, because something could go wrong. When we started this tour, and we did a couple of spontaneous things, it opened us up to more. Because things did go wrong and that’s what made the show special. We’re doing what is the most punk rock version of what we could be doing right now.

You seem generally a lot more comfortable celebrating your past success at this point in your career.

PETE: I think it’s actually not a change from our past. I love those records, but I never want to treat them in a cynical way. I never want there to be a wink and a smile where we’re just doing this because it’s the anniversary. This was us celebrating these random songs and we hope people celebrate them with us. There was a purity to it that felt in line with how we’ve always felt about it. I love ‘Folie à Deux’ - out of any Fall Out Boy record that’s probably the one I would listen to. But I just never want it to be done in a cynical way, where we feel like we have to. But celebrating it in a way where there’s the purity of how we felt when we wrote the song originally, I think that’s fucking awesome. PATRICK: Music is a weird art form. Because when you’re an actor and you play a character, that is a specific thing. James Bond always wears a suit and has a gun and is a secret agent. If you change one thing, that’s fine, but you can’t really change all of it. But bands are just people. You are yourself. People get attached to it like it’s a story but it’s not. That was always something that I found difficult. For the story, it’s always good to say, ‘it’s the 20th anniversary, let’s go do the 20th anniversary tour’, that’s a good story thing. But it’s not always honest. We never stopped playing a lot of the songs from ‘Take This To Your Grave’, right? So why would I need to do a 20-year anniversary and perform all the songs back to back? The only reason would be because it would probably sell a lot of tickets and I don’t really ever want to be motivated by that, frankly. One of the things that’s been amazing is that now as the band has been around for a while, we have different layers of audience. I love ‘Folie à Deux’, I do. I love that record. But I had a really personally negative experience of touring on it. So that’s what I think of when I think of that record initially. It had to be brought back to me for me to appreciate it, for me to go, ‘oh, this record is really great. I should be happy with this. I should want to play this.’ So that’s why we got into a lot of the b-sides because we realised that our perspectives on a lot of these songs were based in our feelings and experiences from when we were making them. But you can find new experiences if you play those songs. You can make new memories with them.

You alluded there to the 20th anniversary of ‘Take This To Your Grave’. Obviously you have changed and developed as a band hugely since then. But is there anything you can point to about making that debut record that has remained a part of your process since then?

PETE: We have a language, the band, and it’s definitely a language of cinema and film. That’s maintained through time. We had very disparate music tastes and influences but I think film was a place we really aligned. You could have a deep discussion because none of us were filmmakers. You could say which part was good and which part sucked and not hurt anybody’s feelings, because you weren’t going out to make a film the next day. Whereas with music, I think if we’d only had that to talk about, we would have turned out a different band. PATRICK: ‘Take This To Your Grave’, even though it’s absolutely our first record, there’s an element of it that’s still a work in progress. It is still a band figuring itself out. Andy wasn’t even officially in the band for half of the recording, right? I wasn’t even officially the guitar player for half of the recording. We were still bumbling through it. There was something that popped up a couple times throughout that record where you got these little inklings of who the band really was. We really explored that on ‘From Under The Cork Tree’. So when we talk about what has remained the same… I didn’t want to be a singer, I didn’t know anything about singing, I wasn’t planning on that. I didn’t even plan to really be in this band for that long because Pete had a real band that really toured so I thought this was gonna be a side project. So there’s always been this element within the band where I don’t put too many expectations on things and then Pete has this really big ambition, creatively. There’s this great interplay between the two of us where I’m kind of oblivious, and I don’t know when I’m putting out a big idea and Pete has this amazing vision to find what goes where. There’s something really magical about that because I never could have done a band like this without it. We needed everybody, we needed all four of us. And I think that’s the thing that hasn’t changed - the four of us just being ourselves and trying to figure things out. Listening back to ‘Folie’ or ‘Infinity On High’ or ‘American Beauty’, I’m always amazed at how much better they are than I remember. I listened to ‘MANIA’ the other day, and I have a lot of misgivings about that record, a lot of things I’m frustrated about. But then I’m listening to it and I’m like ‘this is pretty good.’ There’s a lot of good things in there. I don’t know why, it’s kind of like you can’t see those things. It’s kind of amazing to have Pete be able to see those things. And likewise, sometimes Pete has no idea when he writes something brilliant, as a lyricist, and I have to go, ‘No, I’m gonna keep that one, I’m gonna use that.’

On ‘So Much (For) Stardust’, you teamed up with producer Neal Avron again for the first time since 2008. Given how much time has passed, did it take a minute to reestablish that connection or did you pick up where you left off?

PATRICK: It really didn’t feel like any time had passed between us and Neal. It was pretty seamless in terms of working with him. But then there was also the weird aspect where the last time we worked with him was kind of contentious. Interpersonally, the four of us were kind of fighting with each other… as much as we do anyway. We say that and then that myth gets built bigger than it was. We were always pretty cool with each other. It’s just that the least cool was making ‘Folie’. So then getting into it again for this record, it was like no time has passed as people but the four of us got on better so we had more to bring to Neal. PETE: It’s a little bit like when you return to your parents’ house for a holiday break when you’re in college. It’s the same house but now I can drink with my parents. We’d grown up and the first times we worked with Neal, he had to do so much more boy scout leadership, ‘you guys are all gonna be okay, we’re gonna do this activity to earn this badge so you guys don’t fucking murder each other.’ This time, we probably got a different version of Neal that was even more creative, because he had to do less psychotherapy. He went deep too. Sometimes when you’re in a session with somebody, and they’re like, ‘what are we singing about?’, I’ll just be like, ‘stuff’. He was not cool with ‘stuff’. I would get up and go into the bathroom outside the studio and look in the mirror, and think ‘what is it about? How deep are we gonna go?’ That’s a little but scarier to ask yourself. If last time Neal was like a boy scout leader, this time, it was more like a Sherpa. He was helping us get to the summit.

The title track of the album also finds you in a very reflective mood, even bringing back lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. How would you describe the meaning behind that title and the song itself?

PETE: The record title has a couple of different meanings, I guess. The biggest one to me is that we basically all are former stars. That’s what we’re made of, those pieces of carbon. It still feels like the world’s gonna blow and it’s all moving too fast and the wrong things are moving too slow. That track in particular looks back at where you sometimes wish things had gone differently. But this is more from the perspective of when you’re watching a space movie, and they’re too far away and they can’t quite make it back. It doesn’t matter what they do and at some point, the astronaut accepts that. But they’re close enough that you can see the look on their face. I feel like there’s moments like that in the title track. I wish some things were different. But, as an adult going through this, you are too far away from the tether, and you’re just floating into space. It is sad and lonely but in some ways, it’s kind of freeing, because there’s other aspects of our world and my life that I love and that I want to keep shaping and changing. PATRICK: I’ll open up Pete’s lyrics and I just start hearing things. It almost feels effortless in a lot of ways. I just read his lyrics and something starts happening in my head. The first line, ‘I’m in a winter mood, dreaming of spring now’, instantly the piano started to form to me. That was a song that I came close to not sending to the band. When I make demos, I’ll usually wait until I have five or six to send to everybody. I didn’t know if anyone was gonna like this. It’s too moody or it’s not very us. But it was pretty unanimous. Everyone liked that one. I knew this had to end the record. It took on a different life in the context of the whole album. Then on the bridge section, I knew it was going to be the lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. It’s got to come back here. It’s the bookends, but I also love lyrically what it does, you know, ‘in another life, you were my babe’, going back to that kind of regret, which feels different in ‘Love From The Other Side’ than it does here. When the whole song came together, it was the statement of the record.

Aside from the album, you have released a few more recent tracks that have opened you up to a whole new audience, most notably the collaboration with Taylor Swift on ‘Electric Touch’.

PETE: Taylor is the only artist that I’ve met or interacted with in recent times who creates exactly the art of who she is, but does it on such a mass level. So that’s breathtaking to watch from the sidelines. The way fans traded friendship bracelets, I don’t know what the beginning of it was, but you felt that everywhere. We felt that, I saw that in the crowd on our tour. I don’t know Taylor well, but I think she’s doing exactly what she wants and creating exactly the art that she wants to create. And doing that, on such a level, is really awe-inspiring to watch. It makes you want to make the biggest, weirdest version of our thing and put that out there.

Then there was the cover of Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’, which has had some big chart success for you. That must have taken you slightly by surprise.

PATRICK: It’s pretty unexpected. Pete and I were going back and forth about songs we should cover and that was an idea that I had. This is so silly but there was a song a bunch of years ago I had written called ‘Dark Horse’ and then there was a Katy Perry song called ‘Dark Horse’ and I was like, ‘damn it’, you know, I missed the boat on that one. So I thought if we don’t do this cover, somebody else is gonna do it. Let’s just get in the studio and just do it. We spent way more time on those lyrics than you would think because we really wanted to get a specific feel. It was really fun and kind of loose, we just came together in Neal’s house and recorded it in a day. PETE: There’s irreverence to it. I thought the coolest thing was when Billy Joel got asked about it, and he was like, ‘I’m not updating it, that’s fine, go for it.’ I hope if somebody ever chose to update one of ours, we’d be like that. Let them do their thing, they’ll have that version. I thought that was so fucking cool.

It’s also no secret that the sound you became most known for in the mid-2000s is having something of a commercial revival right now. But what is interesting is seeing how bands are building on that sound and changing it.

PATRICK: I love when anybody does anything that feels honest to them. Touring with Bring Me The Horizon, it was really cool seeing what’s natural to them. It makes sense. We changed our sound over time but we were always going to do that. It wasn’t a premeditated thing but for the four of us, it would have been impossible to maintain making the same kind of music forever. Whereas you’ll play with some other bands and they live that one sound. You meet up with them for dinner or something and they’re wearing the shirt of the band that sounds just like their band. You go to their house and they’re playing other bands that sound like them because they live in that thing. Whereas with the four of us and bands like Bring Me The Horizon, we change our sounds over time. And there’s nothing wrong with either. The only thing that’s wrong is if it’s unnatural to you. If you’re AC/DC and all of a sudden power ballads are in and you’re like, ‘Okay, we’ve got to do a power ballad’, that’s when it sucks. But if you’re a thrash metal guy who likes Celine Dion then yeah, do a power ballad. Emo as a word doesn’t mean anything anymore. But if people want to call it that, if the emo thing is back or having another life again, if that’s what’s natural to an artist, I think the world needs more earnest art. If that’s who you are, then do it. PETE: It would be super egotistical to think that the wave that started with us and My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco has just been circling and cycling back. I  remember seeing Nikki Sixx at the airport and he was like, ‘Oh, you’re doing a flaming bass? Mine came from a backpack.’ It keeps coming back but it looks different. Talking to Lil Uzi Vert and Juice WRLD when he was around, it’s so interesting, because it’s so much bigger than just emo or whatever. It’s this whole big pop music thing that’s spinning and churning, and then it moves on, and then it comes back with different aspects and some of the other stuff combined. When you’re a fan of music and art and film, you take different stuff, you add different ingredients, because that’s your taste. Seeing the bands that are up and coming to me, it’s so exciting, because the rules are just different, right? It’s really cool to see artists that lean into the weirdness and lean into a left turn when everyone’s telling you to make a right. That’s so refreshing. PATRICK: It’s really important as an artist gets older to not put too much stock in your own influence. The moment right now that we’re in is bigger than emo and bigger than whatever was happening in 2005. There’s a great line in ‘Downton Abbey’ where someone was asking the Lord about owning this manor and he’s like, ‘well, you don’t really own it, there have been hundreds of owners and you are the custodian of it for a brief time.’ That’s what pop music is like. You just have the ball for a minute and you’re gonna pass it on to somebody else.

We will soon see you in the UK for your arena tour. How do you reflect on your relationship with the fans over here?

PETE: I remember the first time we went to the UK, I wasn’t prepared for how culturally different it was. When we played Reading & Leeds and the summer festivals, it was so different, and so much deeper within the culture. It was a little bit of a shock. The first couple of times we played, I was like, ‘Oh, my God, are we gonna die?’ because the crowd was so crazy, and there was bottles. Then when we came back, we thought maybe this is a beast to be tamed. Finally, you realise it’s a trading of energy. That made the last couple of festivals we played so fucking awesome. When you really realise that the fans over there are real fans of music. It’s really awesome and pretty beautiful. PATRICK: We’ve played the UK now more than a lot of regions of the states. Pretty early on, I just clicked with it. There were differences, cultural things and things that you didn’t expect. But it never felt that different or foreign to me, just a different flavour… PETE: This is why me and Patrick work so well together (laughs).  PATRICK: Well, listen; I’m a rainy weather guy. There is just things that I get there. I don’t really drink anymore all that much. But I totally will have a beer in the UK, there’s something different about every aspect of it, about the ordering of it, about the flavour of it, everything, it’s like a different vibe. The UK audience seemed to click with us too. There have been plenty of times where we felt almost more like a UK band than an American one. There have been years where you go there and almost get a more familial reaction than you would at home. Rock Sound has always been a part of that for us. It was one of the first magazines to care about us and the first magazine to do real interviews. That’s the thing, you would do all these interviews and a lot of them would be like ‘so where did the band’s name come from?’ But Rock Sound took us seriously as artists, maybe before some of us did. That actually made us think about who we are and that was a really cool experience. I think in a lot of ways, we wouldn’t be the band we are without the UK, because I think it taught us a lot about what it is to be yourself.

Fall Out Boy’s ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is out now via Fueled By Ramen.

[avatar-anna]

hiii, im from brazilll

you can write something like swiftie!yn going to the first show of the eras tour with harry and he is all in love looking at her all emotional and have fun

"If I don't have red lipstick all over me by the end of the night, I'll be very surprised," Harry mused, trailing behind you as you pulled him along.

You turned back to look at him, sparkly red cowboy hat catching the light. "Is that what you want?"

"It's what I expect," he clarified. "You get rather affectionate when you're in a particularly good mood."

"I've never heard you complain about that," you said, letting Harry drape an arm around your shoulders so you could walk together.

"And I never will. Why do you think I work so hard to make you happy?"

Rolling your eyes, you tipped your head back. Your hand found his chin, pulling him down for a kiss. Grinning, you said, "Well, this lipstick claims to be one hundred percent transfer proof, so no lipstick stains tonight."

To your surprise, Harry frowned. "How is anyone supposed to know I'm yours?"

"I'll look for my lipgloss when we get to our seats."

"You better."

Harry knew this was a special night for you, so he tried to let you enjoy it without being all over you. He wanted to let you dance and scream song lyrics at the top of your lungs without him getting in the way. It ended up working out for him, though. His view from behind as he watched you watch your favorite artist was more captivating to him than the concert he was currently attending.

Your white go-go boots with pink hearts on them and matching mini skirt elongated your legs, plush tan skin on display and making Harry's heart skip a beat. He was aware of course that there were people all around, so he tried his best not to stare so openly, but it wasn't easy, especially when you began dancing.

Harry half expected for you to completely ignore him the entire concert. He didn't mind, obviously. Taylor Swift was your favorite artist of all time and you were at the first night of the Eras Tour. Harry was there to enjoy a good concert, but he knew it was so much more for you.

But he was prepared. He had tissues in his pockets for when you cried, makeup wipes for when you returned to the car and eventually wanted to wipe all the glitter off your face, your comfiest pair of slippers waiting in the car, and one of his hoodies for you to slip into on the drive home.

Color him shocked when you held his hand almost the whole show. There were moments where you had too much excitement for your favorite songs, but a lot of the time you were tucked into Harry's side, singing along quietly with your eyes glued to the stage. Harry watched the show too, but he found himself watching you more. It was so cute to see you so lost in the moment, so enamored by music. Harry had seen something similar when he spotted you from onstage at his own shows, but this was different. You loved Harry's music, he knew that, but every track, every lyric, every melody that Taylor Swift had released was everything to you.

"Why didn't you wear the outfit from the music video?" Harry whispered in your ear when "You Belong With Me" came to a close. He was joking, but of course you had a serious answer.

"I'm saving it for another date. Thought I would be more dressed up for the first night." Looking over at him, you grinned before kissing his cheek. "Don't worry. I already have your outfit planned out."

Harry shook his head, exasperated but not at all surprised. "Can't wait."

During "Enchanted," you took Harry by surprise and turned to face him and rested your cheek on his chest. In your boots, you were tall enough to speak quietly in his ear despite all the noise.

"I loved this song when it first came out."

"You did?"

You nodded, one hand finding his and threading your fingers together. "I used to wonder if anyone could really feel that strongly for anyone. So...giddy and enchanted and completely and totally in love. It seemed so out of reach at the time, like an actual fairytale written as a song."

Harry bent his head down so he could look you in the eye. Yours were closed, enjoying the moment, the song being performed onstage. "Did you ever figure it out?"

"I met you." That was all you needed to say, really.

A smile spread across Harry's face as he rested his forehead against yours. His heart beat rapidly in his chest at her small confession. He knew exactly what you meant. Harry wasn't sure if you knew it, if you were even aware of it, but you'd changed his life completely. He'd been in love maybe once or twice before, but it was nothing compared to the feelings he had for you. It was...he supposed you were right, it really was something like magic.

"I love you," he said, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke each word.

You kissed his cheek a couple times before pressing your lips to his. Harry was sure you were trying your best to make good on your promise and leave a mark, and he hoped it worked. The kiss didn't last long, seeing as you were both still aware enough of your surroundings that you knew better than to let things get too heated. But you smiled against his mouth and squeezed his hand appreciatively, happy to share one of the greatest nights of your life with the person you loved most in the world.

"I love you too," you said, then turned around, letting Harry's arm pull you close to his chest and keep you nice and snug there for the next couple songs.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Every Grand Prix in 2024 as a Taylor Swift Song

A 24 song playlist to capture the 2024 season vibes. Each song is meant to capture something unique about each race or to convey a notable moment.

Now this is Charles and Ferrari biased, I am not giving Mclaren the happy endings here.

Bahrain: New Romantics

"We team up, then switch sides like a record changer"

"Please take my hand and // Please take me dancing, and // Please leave me stranded // It's so romantic"

Start of a new season with hopes and also old rivalries. Let's go, everyone's excited even though the race was a disaster for most teams with their cars falling apart, but baby heartbreak is the national anthem, so stay hyped!

Jeddah: Fearless

"'Cause I don't know how it gets better than this // You take my hand and drag me head first // Fearless"

Ollie did jump in that car fearlessly.

Australia: . . . Ready For It?

"So I'll take my time // Are you ready for it? // Oh, are you ready for it?"

This was the race that in hindsight was the beginning of a tone shift, Ferrari 1-2 and the whole world saw that the Red Bull car/team wasn't perfect.

And in hindsight I don't think any of us were in fact ready for it.

Suzuka: Dancing With Our Hands Tied

"I, I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance // Oh, through an avalanche?"

Hard fought race on many sides, especially Yuki and Charles who had the defining drives this race.

China: The Way I Loved You

"Breaking down and coming undone, it's a roller coaster kind of rush"

"But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain"

Rain means we needed some rain metaphors, and also this is when we started to really see some fighting on track between the Ferraris and also between Lewis and Max and Max and Lando. A lot of clashes happened here that would foreshadow tensions later in the season.

Miami: This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

"This is why we can't have nice things, darlin' // Because you break them, I had to take them away"

This is the song the safety car was playing when it came out where it did.

Imola: Out of The Woods

"Are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear yet? Are we in the clear yet, good"

A race with many questions. Max barely held on to his lead, Ferrari wasn't sure where they were with the upgrades, a lot of questions left to ask after a fairly uneventful race.

Monaco: Long Live

"Long live the walls we crashed through // How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you // I was screaming, 'Long live all the magic we made'"

Really no other song can come close to capturing the Monaco win.

Canada: This is Me Trying

"I've been having a hard time adjusting. I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting."

Another race of struggle. Not just for Charles and Ferrari as a whole, but this was not an easy race for anyone. A lot of things fell apart. Merc messed up, Mclaren messed up, Checo and Red Bull massively messed up. This was the race of the strugglers.

Spain: Anti-Hero

"I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser"

"It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me"

A lot of problems cropping up again, and again, they are familiar battles that still have yet to find resolution.

Austria: Bejeweled

"Best believe I'm still bejeweled when I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer"

"I think it's time to teach some lessons"

Max did teach some lessons, and George did come out of this still bejeweled.

Britain: The Alchemy

"I haven't come around in so long, but I'm coming back so strong"

"So when I touch down // Call the amateurs and // Cut 'em from the team // Ditch the clowns, get the crown // Baby I'm the one to beat"

Taylor wrote this song so it could be played for Lewis' return to the top step. Doesn't matter the rest of the field behind him was having the worst race of their lives, Lewis was the moment.

Hungary: Getaway Car

"It was the best of times, the worst of crimes. I struck a match and blew your mind. But I didn't mean it, and you didn't see it."

"No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car"

Yeah, Oscar bites it turns out. Nothing good starts in an orange car.

Spa: Haunted

"It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now. And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake."

Inside George's head after his win was taken due to the team's mistake.

Zandvoort: I Forgot That You Existed

"I forgot that you existed // It isn't love, it isn't hate // It's just indifference"

There's only one orange army, and it aint Mclaren.

Monza: Sweeter than Fiction

"I will say, "I knew it all along" // Your eyes are wider than distance // This life is sweeter than fiction"

"Proved me right, proved me right when you proved them wrong. And in this perfect weather, it's like we don't remember the rain we thought would last forever and ever"

Charles winning after so many thought it was over, proved a lot of people wrong and reminded the sport why winning in Monza only matters in red.

Baku: Should've Said No

"Yesterday I found out about you. Even now just looking at you feels wrong."

"You should've said, "No" // You should've gone home // You should've thought twice 'fore you let it all go"

I mean, intense race, with crashes and an illegal car part scandal that will forever taint the race result? Yeah seems like the classic infidelity song captures the strong emotions from that weekend.

Singapore: Vigilante Shit

"You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them"

"I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends"

Max stole the show in Singapore, not only with his drive, but also with his response to sweargate. It didn't matter who won or how, this is where Max stopped playing nice with the media and the FIA this season.

Austin: I'm Only Me When I'm With You

"Well, you drive me crazy half the time, the other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true. And I'm only me when I'm with you."

Only team worth winning with is red, Charles and Ferrari together in the chaos of this season for the highs and the lows, this being another high.

Mexico: Castles Crumbling

"And I feel like my castle's crumbling down // And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground"

"Their faith was strong, but I pushed it too far. I held that grudge 'til it tore me apart."

A lot of things falling apart this race. Similar to Canada in many ways.

Brazil: Wonderland

"And life was never worse but never better"

"Flashing lights and we took a wrong turn and we fell down a rabbit hole. You held on tight to me 'cause nothing's as it seems and spinning out of control"

Hard to find a song that captures the duality of the high that Max and the alpines experienced alongside the chaos and pain felt by the rest of the field, but life was never worse but never better is as close as I can get.

Vegas: The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

"Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years, will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it And I'll say, 'Good riddance'"

This seems pointed, but Charles basically recited the bridge to this song in his post race radio. That was the standout moment that people were talking about. Now I also think it fits as this was Max's fourth win and that win sent a message to all the small (likely british) men who questioned his fitness as a champion and tried to stop him at every turn this season.

Qatar: I Bet You Think About Me

"Mr. Superior Thinkin' Do you have all the space that you need?"

"I bet you think about me when you say "Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me" // I bet you think about me."

Hard to encapsulate the George vs Max of it all in a single song. But the tone of this one I think fits the petty vibes.

Abu Dhabi: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

"Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die"

"All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting "More" I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart"

Charles drove like that for the fool's chance at the constructor's, and then they made him act in a stupid movie. In any case losing the constructor's was heartbreaking, but we continue on because it's Ferrari and we come back next year stronger.

That and I think the song is a good finish to the season where so many just had to keep going even when it was hard (physically and mentally)

That's my playlist. Congrats on surviving whatever the 2024 F1 season was.

Hopefully 2025 makes for a banger playlist too.

[kondensaduhhh]

Brozone HCs (Post Break Up)

- first of all, i refuse to believe that John Dory was any older than 16 when the band broke up, maybe he's just baby faced, but to me, he's at most 16 years old, yall really gonna look at JD in that flashback and see a 20?? hes just a babyyy

- their ages when the band broke up are, JD: 16, Bruce: 15, Clay: 13, Floyd: 12, Branch: 4

- the tunnel escape only happened almost a year later

- Bruce found Vacay Island only months after the tunnel escape, he ran away from the rest of the trolls thinking maybe he'll find his older brother, but instead found Vacay Island.

- Bruce met Brandy and was in love at first sight, instantly tried to impress her by doing the whole Heartthrob bit, which only amused Brandy, but only when he started to mellow out and started to let down the Heartthrob title, did Brandy start to reciprocate.

- Bruce tried to do the whole courting thing with Brandy, but the second she liked him back, she was like "Mmyeah, youre my boyfriend now" and Bruce nearly screamed like one of his fangirls that he had to take a dive in the ocean.

- due to this, Bruce was the only one that didn't experience becoming gray.

- Floyd became gray after the tunnel escape, back when they were still within the cage, he still somewhat knew where his brothers were, except for JD, but he knew his big brother would be fine. so when they executed the tunnel escape, he couldn't find Clay and Bruce, and didnt know that Branch had started to isolate himself so no one has seen his younger brother either.

- he became gray and left the village, as he was going to look for himself. he didnt sing for a long time, but he did start writing songs and poems that eventually became songs, and had the spontaneous thought of singing one song and broadcasting it.

- the song became an instant hit, and slowly has he started to build his solo career did he gain his colors back.

- Clay lost his colors when they found the hold course to reside in. he lost it a few weeks living in the golf course, did reality set in that he might never see his family again, a lot of the putt putt trolls lost their colors too.

- when Viva saw this, as heartbroken as she was too, she was the firstborn of the king, and as their princess she cant let any of this sadness continue to consume her people, and she found ways to cheer the putt putt trolls up and bring their colors back, including Clay.

- Clay actually only started doing the boring stuff to get away from his previous title of The Fun One, but as things continued on, he did it to keep his mind off of being fun, because being fun reminded him of his family, the family he will never see again.

- but Clay does enjoy keeping the putt putt trolls safe and not gray, he even invented 'protocols' which were essentially games to keep them happy, which he would never admit were games

- JD's colours were on and off for a year when he left the band, and when he came to visit for Branch's birthday, everybody was gone, his colors went to a cooler colour where he cried for days in their pod, and then went gray when the tears subsided. when he left the cage, his colours were so dull, no bergen saw him leave the tree, bc he left with no caution whatsoever

- John Dory doesn't know how much time has passed. he used to have a calendar where he would cross out the days to keep track, but he forgot if he crossed the date out too early or too late and eventually just stopped.

- Floyd became a songwriter to multiple different species

- the brothers who had a hard time fitting back in the pop village from least to most was Floyd, Bruce, Clay, and JD.

- Floyd still had his social skills, better than the rest of the brothers due to the being a songwriter and all, Bruce, while not interacting with trolls, he wasnt living in the past like Clay was, and JD only had Rhonda with the occasional small talk to other trolls whenever he needed supplies that he couldnt make out of scratch.

- JD nearly died a few times. being mostly alone in nature was a lot of trial and error. he got sick/injured so severely that he would write barely intelligible notes about who his brothers were and to tell them how sorry he was and how to take care of Rhonda, pass out and completely forget about the letters. they're tucked into the nooks and crannies inside Rhonda.

- Clay tried to write letters to his brothers, if they were out there, but when it came to sending them, he didn't know how. so he just has thousands of letters addressed to his brothers, varying from asking how Branch was doing, if Floyd still bakes and how he misses his baked goods, asks if Spruce can tell him how to do his hair because it was growing out of control and he always had the best hair out of all of them, and telling John Dory how much he hated him and that it was all his fault and that he misses the soup JD used to make for him specifically, and how tight JD hugged him and missed his stories and how he missed him. How he missed all of them.

- Bruce had a bit of a hard time in raising his kids, not realising that the Vacay Puppets aged differently from trolls. that while most trollings could hold a whole conversation with understanding at the age of a year and a half, some even just after hatching, while his children only babbled and said very few words and short, broken sentences at age 3. he was very worried about their development until Brandy told them that they actually developing pretty quickly for a Vacay Puppet (idk wtf to call them😭😭)

- ppl think that JD is stupid, but the truth is he just misses social cues, and has been out in the wilderness mostly alone so, what is common sense to most trolls, John Dory has completely forgotten about

- Floyd is obviously the most sensitive, but this not only means he is quick to shed a tear, he is also quick to be offended/mad. sometimes it scares Floyd how much he sees JD in himself, but this also made Floyd empathise with JD somewhat, knowing the shame that comes after the anger that came too quick and left just as quickly

- accessory HCs: Floyd has a total of 4 ear piercings, all in one ear,

Branch has got both his ears pierced, the left being a small, mint green gem, and the right a magenta barbell,

Bruce def a navel piercing, a shell necklace with 14 shells on it to represent his wife and kids, and a teal, yellow, pink, and blue woven anklet,

Clay doesn't have any piercings but he does have tats on his legs of those fuck ass stars, hearts, and diamonds on his legs, all below the knee, bc Viva wanted to try tattooing,

JD has a tongue and nipple piercings, he doesn't remember getting them, all he knows he that he got really sad, and then next thing he knows he's awake somewhere he knew he didnt fall asleep in, he kept them anyway

- pop trolls' hair can change when they undergo extreme negative emotions, which was why Clay's hair went from straight and yellow, to curly and green

- when Bruce had an all girl quintuplets (bc i refuse to believe that they had all those children one by one😭😭) he named them Jane Dolly, Clair, Flora, and Briar ((btw i only just found out that Bruce only has one daughter but shhh))

- Floyd has written songs for/about all his brothers, but never said their names in them or even mentioned that it was about Brother specifically, always a vague family member or loved one.

- John Dory was the best at any culinary skill out of all of them, he's the one that taught Floyd how to bake, from how to make the fluffiest chiffon cake, how to laminate pastries, to knowing how to do everything from scratch, to how to do everything without any baking equipment, like a thermometer or a timer.

- However, Bruce, despite being a father and owning a restaurant, is the shittiest cook out of all of them, he either forgets an ingredient and/or under/overdoes it.

- nature is oddly nice to Floyd. not bc of anything in particular, they just really like him. JD used to call Floyd their lucky charm whenever they go camping.

- JD, Clay, and Floyd are adrenaline junkies.

- Clay knows pretty much everything there is in fabric making, from crocheting, knitting to tapestry making, he can do it.

- Floyd absolutely LOVES denim. he will most likely have one piece of his outfit be denim, be it his pants or a bracelet

- after years of being alone, and only having Rhonda be his constant companion, JD has a concerningly high pain tolerance, and being around such a big creature like Rhonda and no one else to compare pain to, whenever he does react to pain, he thinks he's just being over dramatic bc when Rhonda had a splinter the same size as the one he is currently injured with (AKA HUGE) she merely limped, so hed probably be fine.

- Clay looks the most like their mother

- And John Dory is their half brother

[storms-path]

So, How 'bout That Arcadion?

So I had (and still have) plans to do a write-up on Dawntrail's final dungeon and how it contrasts so interestingly with Amaurot and The Dead Ends after my analysis of Dawntrail and Conquerors, but then Arcadion decided to spring out of nowhere, grab me in a headlock and demand I talk about the music and how it reflects our new darling challengers.

So I'm gonna. As always, spoilers below, read at your own risk, etc. etc. Also I know very little about actual music theory so a lot of this is based on vibes and how things relate to themes and characters and all that. I'll leave the proper music analysis to the musicians. I'm here for the fighters!

So, let's start at the beginning with the cunning, cutting Black Cat. You might be surprised to know that Yaana and her theme were what inspired me to write about this in the first place! While her battle theme might not blow away anyone, that's kind of the point. She's a rookie, unestablished in Arcadion and just as hungry as you are, if not moreso, to prove herself a rising fighter.

The lack of any real lyrics aside from the crowd chants are very effective at displaying how the Black Cat lacks a proper identity at this point. That and the shared leitmotif with her sister (we'll get to her later) foreshadow that she is trying and failing to escape Eutrope's shadow. It's clear that even now Yaana's older sister's disappearance haunts her, to the point that she's following in Eutrope's footsteps to find the missing fighter, or failing that, answers.

Honey B. Lovely, on the other hand, is about as in-your-face as she can get. There's very little subtlety to this one, she wants your love and adoration forever and ever. And she wants so much more than only you can give. I do love the contrast between her song's incredibly chipper, saccharine sweet melodies and singing voice... as she's singing about essentially turning you into a mindless drone who will wait on her hand and foot, right down to threatening terrible violence if you manage to break free of it.

Charming lady, this one. Just look at all her new fans. Someone please get her song out of my head I can't stop hearing it while I try to work I just want to be a good little drone please stop

Speaking of contrasts, Brute Bomber is about as far from Honey B. Lovely's chipper little ditty as you can get. Another song without any vocals, unless you count guttural growling and roaring as vocals (though sidenote, I adore how they degrade into chiptune towards the end of it, that's so good). But unlike Black Cat, Brute Bomber very much has his own identity and purpose. In his case, the lack of lyrics are because he simply doesn't need them.

Where Honey B. Lovely is desperately trying to win you over and failing to hide the venom beneath, Brute Bomber is just here to beat you up until you stop moving. He's the champion! What does he need with some stupid lyrics? You don't need to understand him, you just need to understand that he's better than you and he's going to prove it by beating you bloody. His is a refreshingly simple track. Hard, heavy, no frills. Just like him.

And then there's our surprise final challenger, Wicked Thunder. She's in a whole other league compared to the others and she knows it. Really, there's not much to say about her that her song doesn't spell out. She's desperate, driven to try the unthinkable thanks to her slowly eroding soul. She's tasted glory but the aftertaste has her choking, and only claiming our soul for her own will cleanse the palate.

That being said, the sheer confidence in her vocals are what really sells her as a serious threat. While most of the song focuses on what she's lost, the chorus is a battle cry, a ringing roar of protest against anyone who thinks she's beaten. The repetition is used excellently throughout, hammering home both her desperation and her conviction. She will win, even if it costs her everything she once held dear.

Anyway, all of this is really to say that I completely adore Arcadion so far and I can't wait to see how the new tiers fold me over a table and shatter my spine from the top rope. They absolutely nailed the wrestling vibes with this tier, right down to the electric theme songs. And to think, this is only the beginning!

[sh0ek0]

miss you (part 3)

part 1, 2

genre: angst, smut, dark content, all over the place content warning: 18+ !MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! As I forgot to mention in part I + II: aged up characters OF COURSE (college setting), mentions of alcohol and drug use, name calling, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, violent behavior, emotional abuse, choking, dj!choso, rough!megumi, hints of narcissism, obvious mental problems, maddy and nate (euphoria) kinda dynamic, euphoria inspired dialogue, DARK CONTENT, I really don’t know how to do these content notes, I’m sorry, I’m trying pairing: Choso x Reader, Megumi x Reader (kinda???) word count: about 10k

A/N: I really love to include some songs that inspire me while writing, I love music (that’s such a basic thing to say lol) so if you're up for it click on the lyrics. Also I really hope this was worth the wait, I am so sorry 🫠 this is kind of all over the place, like always, but I want to stop being so critical with myself, soooooo yeah. Here you go 🤭

Everything just felt so wrong. It was so hot down here and you were constantly bumping into people. The alcohol in your blood was making you dizzy with every step you took through the crowd and it was definitely messing with your sense of balance. You felt kind of nervous, but it was your own fault.

You were the one who hid in your bed for a whole week, your anxiety now at an all-time high. 

And you were the one who accepted all those drinks that Yuji had mixed for you upstairs.

However, those drinks seemed to fulfil their promise of freeing you from your inner torment, and as soon as the people around you were starting to look a little blurry, you start to move to the loud music blaring from the speakers.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / One thing / When you're angry, you're a jerk / And then you treat me like I'm worth nothin'

"This track goes so hard." 

You open your eyes as you hear a familiar voice screaming in your ear. You see Nobara grinning from ear to ear as she dances to the music, the parts of her body that are not covered were glistening with sweat as the fluorescent lights hit her skin. She looked so damn beautiful.

How much you loved your friends.

This time it was Maki who dragged Nobara and you along with her to a house party off campus so the three of you found yourself in some guys huge basement, loud techno music blasting from the speakers and lots of sweaty people pressing up against each other. It was hot and completely dark except for a few neon lights that made it possible to at least distinguish a few faces. 

Not a single person down here seemed to be in any real control of their senses anymore, most of them were completely out of it already, while you could only imagine what kind of drugs they had in their systems by now. But hey, it was none of your business and you wouldn't judge, so the only thing that mattered was that the three of you were having a fantastic time.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / It’ll happen again / I watch it happen over and over again

Another thing that brought you down here to this shady basement was a rumor that this new DJ was doing a pretty good job. And you knew he was pretty cute too - from where you were standing you could see his face hidden behind a MacBook screen, his hands effortlessly dancing across the array of buttons, knobs and sliders in front of him. Watching him, his body moving in sync with the music, his head bobbing as he worked his magic, you couldn't help but notice how good he looked. His lip was visibly split from last weekend's events and the pale hint of a black eye still marked his skin, but if you were being honest, it made him look even hotter.

You find yourself staring in his direction for a second too long and before you can look away, his eyes lock with yours and you see the realization in them just seconds later.

You feel a jolt of electricity run through your veins as your eyes lock.

Choso turns his eyes back to the DJ set in front of him a few times, but each time he looks up, you can feel him searching for you in the crowd. You can feel his gaze sticking to you like the bodies of Nobara and Maki who were dancing near you.

The heat around you envelops you like a suffocating blanket, while the bass pounds through the walls, pulsing in your chest and guiding your movements.

Don't try to find me / I’m better left alone than in this / It doesn't surprise me / Do you really think that I could care? / If you really don't like me / Find somebody else, it could be anyone else out there

The next time you turn in his direction, it was you who sought his gaze, flashing him a mischievous grin as your eyes locked again. 

Choso raises an eyebrow, but the grin on his lips gives him away. He winks at you, and as you continue to watch, you notice him smiling to himself as his hands skillfully move over the equipment, fading the old track into a new one. A few people immediately start to cheer.

Say yes to Heaven / Say yes to me / If you dance I’ll dance / d-dance / I’ve got my eye on you / you / you / you

The moment you recognise the song, a squeal escapes your lips. Your hips sway effortlessly from side to side, perfectly in sync with the rhythm. Nobara has her arms loosely wrapped around your neck, joining in and mirroring your every move. 

Choso knew you loved this song. 

You fell in love with it the first time you both heard it. That was a few weeks ago in his and Yuji's apartment, you were talking about music and you told him that you absolutely adored Lana Del Rey. It seems that he didn't forget that, because he mixed the song into something completely different, but just as beautiful.

You couldn't help but think that it felt like he'd done that for you. 

But did he?

Either way, he's managed to sweep you off your feet with a little gesture like that, and you can't remember the last time a man did that for you.

It feels like hours have passed before you realise that another DJ has taken over. As the current track slowly fades out into a new one, you notice how the vibe changes and most of the people who came for something with more bpm start to leave to go back upstairs.

Nobara grabs your hand and pulls you with her, Maki follows.

"Hey, I like that song—", you protest but Nobara and Maki were on a mission to get some fresh air. 

You notice how fast your heart was beating as the three of you make your way to the stairs, the pounding music slowly fading into the background.

"That was so good," Nobara sighs and you nod in agreement, still dizzy from all the sensations around you that your drunken brain was having trouble processing, "Choso did a damn good job, I didn't even know he could do that."

"Neither did I," you add, leaning down to take a sip from the straw in Maki's drink, "but he has skilled hands, so it makes sense."

"Oh shut up," Maki groans and you take the drink from her. You couldn't really tell what was in it, but you've reached a point where everything tastes the same to you anyway.

"I still don't understand why those idiots prefer to stay upstairs with Gojo and Getou and play beer pong," Nobara sneers, making you laugh. She was so right.

"Well, they missed a healing experience," you say, staying close to the two girls while more and more people leave the basement, "I thought all I needed was some random guy to fuck me in the bathroom to get Megumi out of my head, but actually this was just as good."

Nobara turns around and stares at you in shock as you take a sip of the unknown drink, causing you both to burst out laughing. 

"A win is a win, I guess," she says and you high-five her. 

"I'm actually so proud of you," Maki says, nudging your side before wrapping her arm around your waist.

You were surprised at how easy it was for you to talk about him. You hadn't heard from him in well over a week, and you weren't about to keep feeding your own delusion by telling yourself that  that hookup in his car was enough to rekindle your relationship. The two of you were over, and not just since he had dropped you off at your apartment at 4am last weekend. Those had been empty words, everything he had said to you that night. You had lied to yourself, thinking you could change his mind by having sex with him. He hadn't even waited until you were safely inside, instead you heard his tires squealing right after you slammed the door of his car shut.

"Who says you can't have both?" a deep voice whispers in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Well, that was embarrassing.

You immediately recognise his voice. 

Maki and Nobara start to giggle while you just freeze. They couldn't possibly have understood what he was saying at this volume, but the suggestiveness in his voice was enough to make you blush.

You turn and look up at Choso, who was looking back at you with a smirk on his lips. Up close, he looked even more battered than before, but you refrain from saying anything. An apology wouldn't help him and Megumi didn't look too good either.

He hugs you briefly, his hand remaining on your lower back even after you pulled away.

"Your set was great," you say, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Even though you meant it, you just wanted to fill the awkward silence. The fact that Maki and Nobara were standing right behind you didn't help, and Choso caught you so off guard that you didn't really know what to say or do. 

In the end, overthinking was what you did best.

Choso smiles at your comment and you catch his eyes roaming over your body for a second. 

"Thanks, I could see you enjoyed it," he replies, looking you straight in the eye. 

You can barely stand his gaze, your face could hardly get any redder and just as you open your mouth to say something, he clears his throat, his hand still on your back.

"Let's go upstairs, I need something to drink," he motions to Maki and Nobara to take the lead, "it's so damn hot down here."

"Oh, it really is," Nobara says, taking Maki's hand and dragging her through the crowd and up the stairs.

You and Choso follow, him being so gentle as he makes sure you don't bump into anyone, as you still have trouble walking a straight line in your knee high boots.

"Oh - careful," he says, catching you just before you could stumble up the stairs, "you know I'd do anything to get that goddamn asshole out of your head, but you really can't make me take advantage of a drunk girl."

Again, the words were only meant for you as you fell back against his chest, strong arms holding you, his hot breath brushing your neck, his lips just below your ear. 

He managed to get you up, and once you were both surrounded by even more people and loud music, you turn to face him.

"I might be drunk, but I'm not a girl," you say, looking at him challengingly.

"Oh," he laughs, "did I miss anything?" He looks at you for a moment, the grin never leaving his lips.

You just glare back at him.

"Fine, excuse me, ma'am," he says, making you giggle.

"But you are drunk," he observes. 

"Then let's get even more drunk together," you decide, taking his hand to lead him into the kitchen. 

"Sounds like a plan," Choso says, laughing, "Lead the way."

If you had turned around, you would have seen the adoration with which he looked at you. At that moment, he would have followed you anywhere. 

Maki was already sitting on the kitchen counter and Nobara was standing next to her, giggling at something she said. The two were drinking from red plastic cups when Yuta made his way over to them, waving at you. 

You wave back at him before you look around to see Yuji still mixing cocktails.

You and Choso push past some people to keep Yuji company, who hands you both two cups. Yuji grins as you taste his secret recipe and you immediately grimace. Right now you can definitely taste more than four different kinds of alcohol and that should be enough of a statement to make a final judgement about his creation

"I mean, it does it’s job but please don't ever start bartending anywhere," you groan and take another sip.

"Yeah, listen to her," Choso says, but he empties his drink before you do.

"Hey, don't hurt me like that," Yuji protests, "you weren't complaining earlier, though." 

"Well yeah," you say, "But I don't take any responsibility for the fact that you had the plan to get me drunk."

"Oh, I would never do such things," the pink-haired boy says, pouring another cup for Choso before changing the subject.

"My brother was doin’ a pretty good job down there in that basement, huh?"

"Yes, he definitely was," you gush as he reminds you, "but where were you? You missed something."

"Oh, I didn't," he replies, "I was right next to him, watching all the magic happen right in front of me."

"Really?" The music changes and you had to shout over it.

"Yeah, but I guess you only had eyes for someone else," Yuji grins, making you blush.

You sip from your cup, cheeks red and the grin still on your lips, but you don't say anything, instead looking up at Choso. 

"I'm going outside for a smoke, join me if you want," he says in a low voice, letting go of your hand, only now realising that you've been holding it the whole time.

You nod and watch him until he disappears through the kitchen door and out onto the patio. You see him join Gojo and Getou who had been sitting outside with Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara for a while. Before Choso could even sit down, Hakari was already holding a joint out to him.

Yuji snaps you out of your thoughts and you take another sip of your drink.

"Hey, what's going on, huh?"

You weren't sure what he was hinting at.

"What?" you ask, trying to concentrate on what he is saying.

"You and my brother," he replies, getting straight to the point, "what's going on with you two?"

"I don't know," you say, not even lying, "nothing? Something? I don't think I can say."

"Mhm," Yuji pauses and looks around before turning back to you, "Megumi's here tonight, I saw him earlier."

"Great," you say and put down your cup, "I don't care."

"I think I've heard that before," he sighs while looking at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I don't really care," you say, slightly disappointed, "he doesn't care about me either."

"I doubt that," Yuji tells you, without specifying what exactly he doubted. 

You lean against the counter next to him and watch the people standing around in the kitchen. Most of them were talking, shouting at each other over the loud music, dancing or laughing.

You had already drunk a lot and no decision you would make now would be a good one. Your senses were far too clouded for that, but you needed that kind of ease, you wanted to turn off your racing thoughts. So you didn't have too many options, either you could bang your head against the wall to stop thinking about him, or…

"Let's do some shots," you suggest, almost immediately hearing Yuji groan. You grab a bottle of tequila from the bar and pour yourself and Yuji two glasses.

"What about lemon or salt?", Yuji protests, but you just clink glasses with him.

"What an amateur," you retort, raising the glass to your lips, downing the contents and immediately refilling it, "works just fine without it."

"I hate you," you hear Yuji groan as he does the same, "this is fucking disgusting."

You both start to laugh at Yuji's disgusted expression. The tequila burns as it runs down your throat and you realize just how much you overdid it already.

But wasn't that half the fun? You always had the best nights when you and Maki would stumble into your apartment early in the morning, still completely drunk, with Yuta struggling to somehow try and get you two into your beds.

You start to refill your glasses when Yuji puts the half-empty bottle aside and looks at you with that worried look on his face. Before you can protest or tell him off for looking at you like that, someone else catches your attention.

That couldn’t be.

"Oh, he wouldn't do that…", you say under your breath, completely in disbelief, "that fucking..." 

Yuji holds you by your wrist. The two of you just stand there and watch as Megumi stumbles into the kitchen.

He was holding the hand of a blonde stranger. A stranger, at least until she turns around and sits down on the kitchen island in the middle of the room. You see Maki and Nobara turn to them as well, with Yuta looking at you instead.

You recognize the blonde girl right away.

And just when you think this scene couldn't get any more absurd, you watch as Megumi kisses Yue. Yue, the girl from the party last weekend, the one who went to the same class as you. The girl who tried to stop you from looking for Megumi. 

The girl who was so "worried" about you.

"What the fuck," you curse, trying to free yourself from Yuji's grip, "I'm going to fucking claw her eyes out, I fucking mean it."

Yuji was the only one who could hear you, loud music was still blaring from several speakers throughout the house.

"Am I fucking dreaming?" you yell over the music, "fucking let me go Yuji, I'm gonna..."

"That's his ex-girlfriend." Yuji says. Nothing else, just 'That’s his ex-girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend?

"I saw him talking to her right after he tried to beat up Choso," he adds.

He didn’t. That couldn’t be—

"No, he..." That couldn’t be true.

"I saw his car outside her dorm the morning after the party when I was walking over to football practice."

It took you a moment to process this information.

"He didn't..." You wanted to throw up. Maybe it was just the tequila, but there was still the tiny chance that this bizarre scene was to blame for you suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

"Get a fucking room, you disgusting piece of shit." You hear Nobara screaming over the music while Megumi and Yue were tightly entwined, standing right in the middle of the fucking room.

You were still standing next to Yuji, leaning against the kitchen counter and if looks could kill, the two of them would probably have turned to dust by now. You stared at Megumi, watching him as his hands wandered up her thighs and ass, caressing her waist while they made out as if they were the only people in the room.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your eyes met. 

You could swear he was looking you straight in the eye as his lips trailed down her neck. His eyes were as dark as ever, almost pitch black, and if you were being honest you couldn't be sure if he was just drunk or if he took something else. Even by his standards, the show he was putting on was truly out of character

If that was one of his sick fucking games he liked to play he definitely did not give you a heads-up. What was he trying? Getting back at you for last weekend? What was he trying to achieve? And Yue was his ex-girlfriend? How come you're only finding out now, and how did she have the audacity to even look you in the eye last weekend, let alone try to comfort you?

"You don’t threaten someone you love with a gun."

Well, good for her that he was obviously treating her completely fucking different.

He seemed unfazed by Nobara's comment, and after your brief eye contact, he closed his eyes again, focusing entirely on the blonde in front of him. 

You were almost boiling with rage and the faces you made, made it really difficult to hide your anger.

"Let go of me," you say again with such emphasis that Yuji actually let go of your wrist.

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Oh, I would never." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

'Don’t do anything stupid.' - You didn't even know what to do. For a moment you thought about going up to Yue and ripping out her ugly blonde extensions and telling Megumi how pathetic he was, but instead you did...

Nothing.

You gave Nobara and Maki a quick look, then turned on your heel and stormed out the kitchen door. The cool night air helped you to calm down and it managed to clear the chaos in your head a little.

You take a quick look around before you realize that Choso is still sitting outside with the others, who have spread out over the various seating areas on the patio.

You walk over to them with a determined stride, Kirara sees you from afar and greets you, causing Choso to turn around in your direction. He was sitting comfortably in a two-seater and as he looked at you, you immediately notice his heavy eyelids and dark red eyes. You smile at him and as soon as he realizes it was you, a wide grin appears on his lips.

He makes some room for you, but before he could move to the side you were already sitting next to him, leaning against him, your legs casually stretched across his lap. Not averse to the sudden physical contact, he puts his arm, which had been resting on the back of the two-seater, around your waist and his other hand on your thigh.

"Hi," he says quietly, "what took you so long?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me," you whisper back, "your brother really hates tequila and I felt bad for making him do shots with me."

Choso laughs, not asking any more questions. 

"But I’m here now," you say, placing a hand on his chest, "guess I missed you."

"Did you smoke already?", you tease, looking up at him.

"Well, do I look like it?", he asks, that big grin not leaving his lips.

"Mhm, couldn’t tell," you lie while trying your best to hide your feelings from him.

You turn to look at the others and notice that Kirara is watching you. Gojo also looks at you from time to time, his gaze wandering from Choso's hand on your thigh to your hand on his chest. He raises an eyebrow, but you ignore him.

"Hi, y/n," Kirara says with a warm smile on their lips, "how are you? I missed you in class this week."

You could feel that they was really just concerned about you. After all, Kirara had been at the party last weekend as well.

"Yes, I'm better, I think," you answer and try to fake a smile, "Thanks for asking.

Kirara smiles at you again, "I can send you all the important stuff we did. It's not much though."

You watch as Hakari pulls them closer to him, his large body making them look so much smaller in comparison. Hakari and Kirara were one of your two favourite couples, the other one being Yuta and Maki, of course. He adored Kirara and wasn’t afraid to show that every chance he got.

You hear Getou clear his throat and you turn your gaze away from the two to look at him. You see that he is holding a joint out to you.

"You want some?", he asks and you politely decline.

"Oh, no, I think I need to chill for a bit." You smile at him. Your head was already spinning and you couldn't handle the sensation of another drug right now.

"Come on, you've got to try it, Hakari brought the good stuff," Gojo says, making you think for a moment before you reach out for Getou's hand.

"You're so easy to convince," you hear Gojo snort. He grins at you as you take a drag, but you just stick out your tongue.

"Or, maybe you’re just really convincing," you tell him, taking another drag before passing it to Choso.

"I'll remind you who's easy later tonight," Getou says, coming to your defence. You and the others break into laughter at his comment and watch as Gojo crosses his arms over his chest.

You hear the two of them start bickering and notice that the others, Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara, were also returning to their heated conversation.

"Did something happen in there?", Choso asks a little while later. He was observant even when he wasn't. Of course he had noticed something. You sigh, Hakari has just handed you the joint again and you hold it between your fingers. You take a drag, then a second one.

"Yeah," you say, blowing out thick, white smoke, "but I really just want to forget about it." 

It had already worked. Since you went outside, you had pushed the thought of Megumi and Yue far away from you. It was all so confusing, this time you couldn't understand what his motive could be. Of course he was angry that you had made out with Choso at the party last weekend, but you two had broken up. Why had he waited for you that night in the first place, was he really so shallow that all he wanted from you was sex? And what did he need you for anyway if he had spent the night with her after he dropped you off? 

The look he gave you earlier had been intentional. He wanted to make sure you were watching him, no doubt about that.

"It doesn't seem to be working very well," Choso says as you rest your head on the arm he has wrapped around you. You look up at him as your hand moves to caress his cheek for a moment but as soon as you notice, you pull it back. Even though Choso doesn't seem to mind. It just felt natural, you wanted to touch him as you enjoyed the feel of his hand on your skin as well.

"Being with you helps," you say, without breaking eye contact. That was the truth. Being with him felt peaceful, you didn't have to be afraid that he would snap at any moment, at something you said or did.

You didn't even notice that Nanami and Haibara had already gone inside, presumably to leave the party. Only when Hakari puts out the joint and says goodbye to take Kirara home, you look away from Choso to look at the others. 

Gojo does not make any effort to leave until Getou gets up, standing next to Gojo and looking at him expectantly.

"Come on, Satoru," you hear Getou say, "it's almost two o'clock, we have training tomorrow."

"Yes, but not until ten," the man with the white hair replies, not understanding why he should move now. Getou gives him a meaningful look and Gojo's eyes widen as he rose to his feet.

"Oh, uh - let's see what's going on inside then, I guess," he says, propping himself up on his knees to get out of the chair he was sitting in, "see you guys." 

Getou waves goodbye before pushing Gojo in front of him towards the patio door.

You’re all alone now, besides a few people standing outside and talking. You admire the night sky for a moment while neither of you says a word. It’s so quiet outside, peaceful even.

"Just the two of us, huh?", you say as you look up at Choso. You think for another moment but then, before he's has a chance to even say anything, you kiss him.

Choso wasn’t exactly surprised and instead kissed you back. His hand, which had just rested on your thigh, moved a little further up until it cupped your ass, moving up under your tiny skirt in a swift motion. 

You put your hand on his chest to support yourself and Choso pulls away for a brief moment. 

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, looking down at you through heavy eyelids and making you giggle, "I missed you." 

Then, your lips meet again. You move to straddle his lap, now sitting on top of him you were the one looking down at him.  

"You’re not so bad yourself, y’know," you whisper into his ear as you cradle his face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing the split in his lip.

When he said he missed you, you knew what he meant. 

Because you did, too.

Last weekend wasn't the first time you two had kissed. When Megumi had broken up with you, Maki had to study for some important exams and you had forbidden her from rotting with you in your depression cave. To make it easier for her, you had taken yourself out for a few evenings to Yuji’s place. He welcomed you with open arms in his new apartment, which he had just moved into with his brother. This was also the first time you got to know Choso properly, away from parties or those few casual encounters on campus.

It started innocently enough, your movie nights, the two of them watching every romcom with you that you had picked out beforehand. However, Yuji usually had training the next day, so he had to go to bed early. Choso promised to drive you home later, and as soon as Yuji disappeared into his room, you moved on to other things. He showed you some new songs, and sometimes a friend  of his would come over and Choso would sell him some weed. 

And at the end of the night you would find yourself spread out on his black leather couch, with his head buried between your thighs. 

It became a habit until Maki's exams were done and she wanted to spend more time with you.

You were glad that the couch you were sitting on had its back to the window in the kitchen, protecting you from the prying eyes of those who went outside to smoke or enjoy the cool night air. As you climbed onto Choso's lap, your skirt had risen up quite high, almost to your waist but you were past the point of caring what others would think.

You’re planting small kisses up his neck and jaw, watching him and how he enjoyed having you in his embrace. After a little while he pulls you into another kiss, this time you’re feeling exactly how hungry he was for you. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard, before you pull away for a moment to gasp for air. While you were grinding down on him, you could feel the thin fabric of your panties slowly getting coated with your slick as you were searching for some kind of friction. 

"How about…", you pause, while kissing his neck up to his earlobe, feeling him slowly but surely getting hard beneath you.

"How about we take this inside, maybe look for an empty room?", you finish your sentence.

You didn't have to ask twice before Choso had already grabbed you. He had one arm around your waist, his other hand digging into your hips while you let out a little squeal before wrapping your legs around his middle. He carried you a few steps until he gently set you down in front of the door into the kitchen.

"You’re going to have to walk real close in front of me," he mutters into your ear as he turns you around to take the lead. You could feel how hard he was already as he was pressed up against you and you couldn’t help but giggle at his remark. 

"I promise they’ll be way too drunk to notice," you say, "but let’s get inside and help you with that." 

***

"Shit—" You hear Choso curse under his breath as he was standing behind you, pumping his dick in his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He had you bent over the bathroom sink right in front of him, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hips, surely leaving bruises on your skin.

You hear a loud bang at the door, but decide to ignore it. The person could find another bathroom, you were sure the house was big enough to have a few other options. As the person knocks a second time, this time even louder than the first, you feel Choso getting impatient.

"What the—", he mutters, turning towards the door. "Fuck off," he shouts, getting distracted for just a second while you were so desperate for him to fuck you already. You scoot your ass back against him, feeling the leaking tip of his cock sliding through your dripping wet folds and turning his attention back to you.

"Hold - fuck - hold still," he groans before pushing you down with his hand on your back, holding you in place so you were unable to squirm under his touch. 

"How about you hurry up a bit?", you tease from underneath him, earning yourself a slap on your ass almost immediately. You jerk forward a little, not expecting him to do that, but enjoying the stinging sensation to your skin all the same.

You let out a small moan as he pulls you back up against his chest, cupping your breast with one hand while pinching your nipple, "You’re in a hurry now, huh?", he groans and without giving you another heads-up, he pushes into you slowly. 

He was stretching you out already without even being all the way in, locking eyes with you in the mirror before bottoming out completely, letting out a loud groan as he did.

Choso watches as your lips formed an O, needy moans escaping your mouth while he is thrusting into your wet pussy at a devilishly slow pace. You could feel the perfect curve and every ridge of his dick, stretching you out so well before he pulls out almost entirely, just the tip prodding at your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. His hand squeezes your breasts and you moan at his request, his low voice going straight to your core, making you even wetter than you already were.

"Tell me, did you miss me?," he groans, not breaking eye contact with you, "did you miss my dick?" He plants kisses down your neck and before you could give him an answer he pushes into you again, picking up his pace this time. You cry out at the sudden sensation, the stretch making your eyes roll back while loud moans were falling from your lips. 

"I miss— fuck…", you whine, "'missed you, 'missed your cock inside of me" You had to grab onto the edge of the sink, unable to form another thought besides how good it felt to have him bully his dick into you. 

"Please…", you beg as he continues to fuck into you, holding your trembling body tight against his own.

He watches how your body reacts to him as he was pounding in and out of your pussy relentlessly, your walls squeezing down on his cock so hard he had to use everything he had to not cum into you right then and there. 

"Look at you," he moans right into your ear, "look at yourself taking this dick so fucking good." 

His hand that was just digging into the soft skin of your hips moves further down, his fingers meeting your slick just seconds after. His thumb starts drawing harsh circles on your clit, earning  him a few loud moans that fell from your lips.

"Fuck— Choso, right there, plea—", you whine, eyes squinted shut, "please, 'wanna cum - fuck— don’t stop." 

"I said look at yourself," Choso groans into your ear as you suddenly feel him pulling his hand away, forcing you to obey him and open your eyes. You swallow at the reflection you see in the mirror in front of you.

You were already looking so fucked out, mascara smeared along your undereyes. Your tiny denim skirt was dangling around your waist and that high neck, sleeveless crop top was pulled up above your breasts, squeezing them together. 

"Good girl," he praises, pressing a kiss to your sticky temple while his fingertips continue to rub and pinch at your clit without any mercy. You cry out, louder than anticipated, and watch how tears start to prickle in the corners of your eyes. 

It was too much for you, you were barely able to contain yourself beneath him and you felt yourself getting tighter around him with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. Thank god the music outside was so loud, the heavy bass lining up with the lewd noises the both of you made. 

"Shit - you’re getting so fucking tight," he grunts before you hear low moans falling from his lips, "you wanna cum, pretty girl?"

All you can do is whine in response, as you already lost your ability to form meaningful sentences a while ago. "I’m gonna - gonna—", you cry, brows knit together at the overwhelming feeling of him hitting your cervix over and over again. 

You watch how Choso stares at you through the reflection in the mirror, your body almost going limp as you feel your core tightening and the only thing you were being able to do was moan his name, again and again.

"Then cum for me, babygirl," he whispers, his fingertips circling your nipples and pinching your swollen clit while he fucks into your throbbing cunt, getting you closer and closer to your release, until…

"There you go," Choso coos as he feels your walls pulsating around him. Your fingernails claw and scratch at the arm that he had wrapped around you, while you were trying to hold onto something, anything…

Then your orgasm washes over you and it made your thighs shake almost immediately. Choso doesn't stop fucking you through your overwhelming peak, giving you no time to breathe until he finally cums into you as well, thick ropes of hot and sticky cum painting your pussy white while  you had your eyes closed again and you hear him moan into your ear.

You lean back against his muscular chest as the two of you try to catch your breath, raspy moans and small whimpers fall from both of your mouths while neither of you was able to say anything.

You shiver as Choso slides out of you, goosebumps prickling across your body, before he turns you around and you open your eyes to look at him. Your cheeks were flushed and your legs almost too weak to stand on, but you manage to pull your top down, covering yourself up as Choso presses a kiss to your lips. 

He helps adjusting your skirt after you put your panties back on, stumbling against him as you were standing on one leg.

"Careful—", he says and catches you, almost giving you a Déjà vu. 

"You alway got my back, huh?", you ask playfully while you’re trying to fix your hair and makeup in the mirror. 

"Doing my best," he chuckles, pulling up his pants and putting on the hoodie he took off earlier. The shirt he was wearing underneath had stains at the bottom - well, his fault for not taking it off as well. "Let’s get out before they break in the door."

You reach for your bag, now that you can stand in your knee-high boots without holding on to anything, and just as you are about to head for the door, Choso beats you to it.

He holds the door knob as he looks down at you.

"Hey, let’s do that again sometime," he grins and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "and text me if you want me to get you home."

"You're a gentleman after all," you say and take his hand, grinning as you stand on your tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek. "Actually, 'lemme just find Nobara and tell her I’m leaving, I won’t be taking long," you mutter before pulling back. 

"I’ll wait outside for you," Choso says after the both of you have left the bathroom. Not a lot of people were still left and those who were, were not paying attention to the both of you. You feel him squeeze your hand once more before he lets go of it and disappears into the hallway. 

***

You try and make your way into the kitchen, as a familiar voice startles you.

"Stop using my brother to make him jealous," Yuji says, his voice unusually cold as he suddenly pulls up behind you.

You freeze and turn around, slowly.

"What?", you ask, not willing to believe what you’ve just heard. 

"I'm sorry, y/n, but you heard me right," He was serious. Where had he suddenly come from? Had he seen or... heard you? 

"It’s not - it’s not like that, I mean, I," you stammered, completely taken by surprise, "I’m not using Choso."

"Honestly, Y/N, I don't care what you say, I care about my brother, and all you've been doing lately is destroying yourself. You don't give a fuck about your friends, we're always here for you, and yet you go back to him every chance you get."

Ouch.

You could tell he was drunk. This was unusual for him, he was an athlete and although he liked to go to parties, he rarely drank alcohol himself, apart from a few shots for fun. And it took a lot to get Yuji drunk, you were speaking from experience.

The words that came out of Yuji's mouth hurt you. He was right, but none of your friends had called you out on your bullshit yet.

"I can't save you, Y/N. I've given up on that, but don't drag Choso into this. He has no bad intentions and he would actually treat you well, I know you don't want that." Yuji was so serious and you couldn't even argue with him because he was right.

"Your brother is a grown man," you reply coldly, not even able to look him directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, exactly, he’s a man. Plus - he likes you." 

It wasn't as if you denied the way Choso looked at you with absolute adoration in his eyes. You knew he would move heaven and earth if you asked him for something, and even if he wasn't pushy, you could count on him. He was thoughtful and gentle, he knew what you liked and didn't like, and sex with him was fun, so what exactly were you missing?

"Listen, Yuji, this in none of your business," you say, trying your best to keep your calm, "I don’t need saving and your brother is perfectly capable of looking after himself, so—"

"Yeah, whatever," Yuji barks, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand that you only noticed now, "don't come back crying if he hits you again."

Wow. 

You watch him leave as you realize that you've never seen your best friend so upset. You take a step back, startled by the feel of the wall behind you. You feel your way along the cold wall, down the dimly lit hallway, not sure where you want to go, but you wanted to get away from here. Looking for a door to get out, you pass a few couples making out. 

You push down the door handles of a number of locked rooms and people coming towards you bumped into you. Some of them apologise, others look you up and down, whistling or shouting something at you, but your tunnel vision prevented you from noticing anything. 

You had your guard down while the things Yuji had said to you played over and over in your head. 

Just as you reached the door at the end of the corridor, it was a glass door and you could see the starry night sky through it, someone slammed you hard into the wall. You were pushed into the chest of a much taller person who opened the door to your right with one hand and pushed you in with the other. 

"Hey—", you protested, but you had no chance. The man was much stronger than you and at least two heads taller. The familiar scent that rose to your nostrils as you were pressed against his chest set off alarm bells ringing in your head. 

And as you looked up, even the last doubts you naively had were erased.

"Megumi…", you gasp, and immediately try to get a few steps between the both of you. You hear him lock the door behind him and you instantly feel like a cornered animal. Your eyes scan the room for ways to escape, but unless you wanted to climb out the window, the door was the only way out. 

He looked you straight in the eye, all emotion gone from his face. It was obvious that you, on the other hand, were scared. You hadn't seen anyone outside and you were alone in some guest bedroom that was located in a part of the house where you couldn’t even hear anymore music playing.  

You clutched your bag and pulled your big leather jacket, which you had put on on the way out, tightly around you.

As if that would somehow protect you.

Megumi was still standing by the door, motionless. The grin on his lips never reached his eyes as he stared at you.

"I heard you were having fun in there," he says as you watch him closely.

Fuck.

"Yeah, and I want to leave now," you reply, trying your best to contain your voice, "why don’t you go back to Yue and leave me alone?" 

"Mhm." He seems like he’s thinking about it for a moment. "I don’t think so."

You gather all your courage as you decide to walk towards him.

"Cut your bullshit, Megs," you demand, "let me out of here."

He grabs you roughly as you try to reach for the door, pushing you back into the room.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?", you hiss, not willing to hold back anymore.

"You show up here, with your ex-girlfriend, making out with her, in front of me, in front of all my friends, and when you don't get the reaction you want, you jump me?" You almost yell at him and he was still just standing there in front of you with no reaction.

"I'm not doing this anymore Megumi, this isn't one of your little games anymore," you add, on the verge of tears, "why are you doing this to me?"

"I'll do whatever I want to you," his voice was as calm as always, scaring the living shit out of you as he walks towards you.

"I don't care about Yue, she was just, well, there," he says, watching you closely, "I wanted to know if you meant any of what you were saying last weekend, but as soon as your cute ego gets hurt you’re letting the next best guy fuck you in the bathroom."

You feel tears prickling in your eyes, and your attempts to blink them away only cause them to trickle down your cheeks.

"Oh," he mocks you, "now you’re crying." 

"Fuck you," you hiss and wipe the tears from your face. 

When he was standing right in front of you, you could smell not only his familiar scent, but also the smell of alcohol as he spoke to you. He was tense, you could feel it, and in the darkness his eyes looked almost pitch black as he stared at you.

"Watch how you talk to me," he says through clenched teeth, "just because you can't stand that you act like a fucking slut every time, just to get my attention."

What he said made you cry even more and you didn't bother trying to wipe off the tears anymore.

"I don’t wanna talk to you right now," you sob, but of course he doesn’t care what you want.

"But I wanna talk to you," he barks, grabbing you by your wrists as you try to shuffle away from him, "what is it about him that you go back for a second and a third, huh? Want me to beat him up for good this time?"

He was squeezing your wrists so hard that it hurt. 

"I’ll kill him if he ever touches you again," he spits, "fucking dirty whore."

You weren't sure what hurt more, his words, or the way he twisted your arms to bring you closer to his face.

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," you manage to get out, "you’re pathetic. I don’t need you."

You try to break free of his grip a second time, only this time he lets go of you to push you away from him. He does this with such force that you lose your balance and stumble backwards into the bed frame, which was now right behind you.  

You land on the mattress and before you know it, you feel his hand clench around your throat, pulling you up to his eye level again. You have to stand on your tiptoes to take some of the pressure off your neck.

He didn’t squeeze much but it still hurt. His grip was strong as ever and you couldn't move, so you stayed still, hoping he wouldn't hurt you any more.

You grimaced in pain and tried to look him straight in the eye. Somehow he had to realize what he was doing, didn't he? He was delirious and that frightened you. You knew this kind of situation all too well and it made you freeze. There was nothing you could do about it, you could only beg him to stop or try and keep still.

"Megumi, please, I’m sorry, you’re— you’re right," you sob, cheeks wet with tears, "just let me go, please…"

Suddenly you feel his hand tighten around your throat, but you don't realize it until he grabs you  by your neck and slams you right back into the mattress behind you. You have no time to react, you just feel a sharp pain as your head hits the headboard and then he finally presses down hard on your throat. You're helpless, gasping for air, barely able to process what he's just done.

"You’re such a fucking whore, Y/N," he fumes, shaking you and pushing you even deeper into the mattress, "you deserve to get treated exactly like the little fucking slut you are."

You whimper and cry, while hearing the blood rushing through your ears as you struggle against his grip.

Panic rises in you and you feel your eyes begin to sting with more hot tears running down your cheeks. In your desperate struggle you feel your muscles ache and your body give in, the shock knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs and you can't breathe, you know you're about to pass out.

"Tell me again who’s pathetic?" His face was right next to yours as he whispered into your ear.

You couldn't stop crying, even though you couldn't even make a sound. You were sure he was going to kill you this time. 

You had to fight back, but he was so much stronger than you.

"Megumi…", you groan.

"I— I need to—", you cough, desperately trying to claw at his arms, "breathe…please…stop—"

You cry and plead and try to free yourself, all while your strength slowly but surely leaves your body. And then, just milliseconds before you were about to lose consciousness, you feel the air flowing back into your lungs. 

You're so out of breath, coughing and choking and crying all at the same time, while your throat burns so badly, that for a moment you're not even sure he's really let you go.

The moment he lets go of you and stands up, you pull your legs towards you and crawl as far away from him as you can, putting your hands around your neck for protection, pulling the high-neck of your top up over the bruises that were probably already starting to form. 

You shake uncontrollably and can hardly stop crying, while he just stands there watching you. You wrap your arms around your legs, concentrating on your breathing as your body continues to shake.

Then he turns and leaves the room without another word to you.

And you wonder if this is your fault.

***

"I'm so sorry," you say, standing behind Choso after you finally found your way out of the house. He was sitting on the steps outside the main entrance, a bottle of beer in his hand, waiting for you. You snuggle into your much too large jacket as you sit down next to him.

"You've been gone for half an eternity." Choso gently nudged into your side and you wince, barely noticeable.

"Nobara was throwing up downstairs," you lie, "I couldn’t leave her."

"Oh, really," he says, you couldn't know he'd seen her leave almost an hour ago, "poor girl, I hope she's feeling better now.

You say nothing, tugging at the high neckline of your top, your legs bouncing nervously.

Choso notices and puts a hand on your thigh. You flinch again and this time he feels it.

"Are you all right?", he asks worriedly, looking at you. Your long hair hides the bruises on your neck, but what it can't hide is your blank stare, your swollen lips and your red, watery eyes.

You nod. 

"Yeah, I'm just cold," you say, trying to smile. Your throat's still hurting when you speak.

He puts the bottle to the side and shuffles closer to you. 

The both of you were sitting on the stairs for a while, neither one of you saying a single word. Choso sensed that something must have happened, but what could he do? He knew you lied to him about Nobara, so he figured you wouldn't tell him anything he didn't want to hear.

"Sometimes I just want what they have, y’know?", you sigh after a while and lean into Chosos side, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

"I know I will never find that kinda love."

You're talking about the scene that took place in front of you, a scene that caught your attention immediately. Yuta and Maki were about to leave the party together, and Maki was completely drunk. Yuta had his arm around her to manoeuvre her into the car. They both giggled while Maki tried to wrestle her boyfriend, making it harder than it had to be for the poor boy to get her home quickly.

As you look away, you notice that Yuji was sitting in the passenger’s seat with the window down.

He was getting impatient, waiting for them to finally get into the car, and as he turned to see what was taking them so long, your eyes met briefly. 

You saw him open his mouth as if to say something, but then he noticed Choso sitting next to you and he immediately turned away.

He was still mad at you.

Yuta had finally made it and Maki was sitting safe and sound in the back seat. He planted a kiss on her forehead before gently closing the door behind her and walking around the car. You looked away but he caught you watching the scene and stopped for a moment, flashing you both a smile before he waved goodbye, got into the car and drove off.

"What do you mean?" you hear Choso's voice after you have sat in silence for another while. The car disappeared and you just stared into the distance, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know, there's just no...", you pause for a moment, thinking how pathetic you're going to sound, "there's just no darkness."

That's it. Everything about their relationship was genuine, they cared for each other. There was not a hint of jealousy, no one was trying to control or manipulate the other.

"It's just sweet, they're just... sweet," you swallow, feeling so vulnerable in that moment, "they don't hate each other, there's just so much love. I don't know if that would ever be enough for me. Doesn't it get boring?"

Once again, you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm going crazy," you mumble.

None of you says a word after that. At some point, you lift your head from Choso's shoulder to look at him, almost as if you want him to say something.

"You’re not," he says, his voice sounding determined.

"I mean, you're pretty fucked up, but you're not crazy." Choso pulls two cigarettes out of a pack and hands you one, lighting yours first. He stuffs the pack back into his jacket and takes a few puffs, immediately blowing the smoke out into the cool night air before turning back to you,

"I don’t fuck with insane chicks, learned my lesson." 

He nudges your side again to make sure you understand that he was joking, but you were already too far up in your head. You smoke your cigarette, breathing in the smoke as if it might bring you some kind of clarity.

"I think I'm going to get back together with him," you whisper, almost as if you don't want to hear what's coming out of your own mouth.

Choso does not answer. 

Of course he doesn’t. 

What was he supposed to say? He didn't know what exactly was going on between you and him, but at this point he knew that there was something, at least from his side. It was unfair of you to talk to him about it, of all people, and at the same time he knew that you couldn't talk to anyone else at the moment.

"Y/n, tell me, what do you want to hear from—" 

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"It's a mistake, right?"

"Don't do it, just…", he pauses and takes a drag, "don't do it."

"I don't know if I can help it," you tell him, sounding defeated. 

Inhaling, you feel what you had been blocking out all along. Your throat hurts. The cigarette smoke that keeps pouring into your lungs only makes it worse, and the sudden pain in your chest when you inhale too deeply makes you wince.

You knew that those bruises would form. Like splashes of blue and green paint they would cover your neck, spreading all around your throat. 

Choso doesn’t reply to this, either. 

His head was hanging low. Not because he was disappointed or pissed off that he wasn’t able to make another move on you tonight, but because he was afraid to lose you. 

Because he knew he couldn’t really do anything to save you.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do or the rest of the world does, really," he sighs and pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist and letting you rest your head against his chest. He wanted to say so much more but he stopped himself before opening his mouth. 

He knew it wouldn’t change a thing. 

@bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 @arminsgfloll @chifuyusfingers @kokonoiscoconut thx for motivating me to keep on writing <3

[perfectlyfinespacebacon]

everything now netflix

some spoilers!! and apologies for the long post.

i honestly really enjoyed it! it was almost like a skins/euphoria but imbued with like a heartstopper/sex education vibe in the sense that it dealt with serious teenage issues/mental health but light enough that it doesn't weigh down on you. my character thoughts:

mia was so infuriating almost at all times. obviously under the circumstances, it makes sense but there's this level of likeability that was missing for me. maybe it was the writing or the acting who knows but in my mind it's like this: im making an albeit an unfair comparison to effy from skins or even rue from euphoria, but they were battling their demons and making all the wrong choices but there was still this level of “i want to root for them” that's missing with mia personally.

in a similar vein with alison, she is meant to be this popular rich mean girl archetype who surprises you but obviously in the first half of the season she's supposed to be kind of unlikeable but i found her very endearing. as for the relationship, alison and mia DO NOT belong together. like at all. i am not rooting for them. alison in a way forced a relationship with mia and then also mia was like too scared to say anything about it. its clear that alison liked mia waaaaay more than mia liked alison. like carli says in the last ep as well, “to learn to not be a fantasy to each other”, alison needs to take mia off this pedastal she has for her. i'm very interested to learn more about her character outside of mia though if they hopefully continue the show. i have a feeling that we are supposed to think that she and cameron hooked up at the end or something but i'm rlly hoping its a red herring.

carli is also a character i would love to learn more about. she definitely has more chemistry with mia and i love her for standing her ground against mia, as she needs to help herself before she can be in a healthy relationship. but i will say it was pretty shitty stringing cameron along.

speaking of cameron, i didn't quite expect to like his character as much as i did. in a way his arc in the season is battling toxic masculinity as he kinda seems to come off as this laid back, bro kinda guy but he cares and loves so deeply. it wasn't right calling bec a "sket". i'm not british but obviously its like equivalent to slut, and im very glad he owned up to it. i'm also really interested to know more about his family and stuff.

i love bec as well. she deserves all the happiness in the world. im glad she was able to air out her things with mia, albeit in a very treacherous way and i also love how her mom was supportive of the abortion. i'm honestly kinda tired seeing the mom kicking out the daughter for getting pregnant trope so it was nice to see a mom just being supportive. bec is just such a wonderful friend and mia honestly has a lot to make up for. re not telling mia about her and cam, it was honestly frustrating seeing mia be so petty. i understand that its a big secret and she felt like everyone was hiding things from her but its also right to have secrets amongst friends, idk that really stuck out to me.

will for me had the weakest arc as in it wasn't the most interesting to me. don't get me wrong, i love the character but it just wasnt giving a whole lot to me. i recognize him as more than the comic relief but also at the same time he was stirring the pot in a lot of the arguments / blowups the group had, consciously and unconsciously. though i will say will x theo <3 but comedic duo of the century is will x alison. the little song they did for mia's birthday is stuck in my head.

tldr; great characters and great show. it's really hard to find a show about teens as a 25yo living in a 16yo body that i enjoy and don't find annoying. i just love how each character was able to be so nuanced despite being an ensemble cast.

but knowing netflix's track record it's gonna get cancelled because a) it's good b) has wlw content... but i really hope not.

[13eyond13]

Hey Bloz! How r u? I cannot even begin to express how fun it’s been to see ur Beatles posts on my dash. the minute I saw the Real Love demo I was like ok… she’s fallen down the rabbit hole XD I was fixated on them last year for a good few months. It was a lot of fun reading about them, watching their movies, and reading fan analyses online. There’s so much out there! And Beatles rpf is a whole world unto itself lol at first I was skeptical of it but then… I was intrigued haha

Do u have any fave songs or albums? :)

Omg hello Jess!! I miss you and it's so nice to hear from you 🫂

Hahaha YES I'm pretty deep into The Beatles lore rabbit hole already, it's been my main fixation for entertainment for the past month or so. You're right, there's just so much to dig into. Caught me totally by surprise, I feel like I'm so late to the game to just be having a Beatles phase now... I never felt extremely interested in learning about them before, but a randomly recommended YouTube video (x) about how it's reductive to blame the band's breakup solely on Yoko Ono drew me into this whole fascination a few weeks back.

😆 And hah, you must have sent this ask to me right before I deleted that "Real Love" demo reblog, because I thought I'd better delete it after I looked in the notes of the post and saw the OP wasn't taking kindly to anybody questioning if John was actually giggling instead of sobbing there (which is what I think he was doing, personally... but it still sounded like he was writing something about Paul? 🤷‍♀️ idk, doesn't need to be crying for it to still be a bit of an eyebrow raiser, imo)

I haven't actually really looked into any rpf yet, just digesting the "canon" material and whatnot (listening chronologically to their discography and not completely finished with that yet, up to halfway through the White album rn). Been watching their movies and behind the scenes stuff and documentaries (the Get Back one by Peter Jackson was fascinating even for a relatively new fan to watch, imo), reading a bigass biography about them (Tune In by Mark Lewisohn, it's like this great slowburn real-time mosey through the band's childhoods and earliest days together), and watching the occasional YouTube video deep dives (this one series in particular is p beautifully made and impressively researched and really got me in the feels regarding the shippy theories about J&P: [x])

As for my faves of their music, I haven't finished listening to 100% of their albums yet, BUT right now I'm actually very partial to some of their earliest records. I feel like some of their more normie stuff from the early 60s is actually the most fantastic fun to listen to, and Please Please Me and A Hard Day's Night might be the two albums with the most bangers that I never want to skip so far. Their more experimental and psychedelic and surreal later stuff is also interesting and arguably more unique and groundbreaking or creative or whatever, but I'm not as familiar with them outside of the main extremely famous tracks on them yet, and I'll need to finish listening and let them grow on me a bit before I can probably say for sure. However I think so far my faves from their later stuff would probs be Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, and possibly the White Album (once I actually finish listening to it).

John is definitely my favourite Beatle, which was actually a complete surprise to me, I thought he'd be my least fave. And there are so many good bops that it's hard to narrow it down, but some of my personal faves so far are I Saw Her Standing There, I Should Have Known Better, I Want to Hold Your Hand, It Won't be Long, A Hard Day's Night, Do You Want to Know a Secret, Oh! Darling, I Want You (She's So Heavy) and If I Fell... hmm, I think maybe I'm just kinda a sucker for their simple and enthusiastic and joyful love songs the most, usually?

Thank you for sending me this sweet ask! I'd love to hear what some of your faves are too 🧡

[ciaossu-imagines]

Heya there love! I hope that you are doing alright and that life will granted a break soon 💜🥹🫂

Can I request:

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

For Kyoya please 💜✨

Hey! Thank you so much for the well-wishes. Life being a bit easier would definitely be nice – still feeling a little overwhelmed but working hard and trusting that things will come together in the end, so feeling a little bit better than when I last posted. Thank you again 💜 I appreciate it and the quick, easy ask! I hope it’s still entertaining to read and that you, and any other Kyoya fans, enjoy 😊

14) Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character

When it comes to Hibari, his style really goes one of two ways. I do think that Hibari really does enjoy wearing traditional Japanese garb. This is definitely influenced by the things we see him wear, in his downtime, in the future arc.

I think that he wears yukata to sleep in as an adult and sometimes during his teen years. However, he’s more likely, as a teenager, to wear jinbei around his house.

In public though, during his teen years, he’s almost always wearing his school uniform or outfits that resemble it. To Hibari, the school uniform is everything he could want in clothing – it’s comfortable to him and practical, plus he likes the way it looks.

The comfortable and practical is the most important part to Kyoya though. He has no use for clothes that simply look good. To him, it’s most important that he be able to move every and any way he should want to while in his clothes, that they hold up well, that the fabric they’re made of not bother his skin and that they don’t gain a lot of wear and tear through simple everyday wear.

Hibari hates clothing styles that look ‘sloppy’ to him. He doesn’t really have ‘casual wear’. He’s not a fan of sweatpants, track suits, anything that’s really athletic or loungewear.

I’d label his style overall as a mixture between minimalism and dark academia – there’s a lot of dark colours mixed with fresh white button-downs, solid colours, clean lines, fabrics like wool, cotton, and cashmere.

5) What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Oh, this is a hard one, because there’s really four of them that automatically pop into my head.

The first one is a gimme, something that should go without saying, and is probably a bit of a cheat answer. It’s simply his leitmotif, which, by the way, is one of my favourite leitmotifs from KHR.

The second one is 65daysofstatic’s I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood. There’s something about the mixture of soft bits and frantic, hard bits that make me envision epic battle scenes with him.

The third is X Ray Dog’s Living Dead that always reminds me of Hibari, though I will just say that the whole Night Hounds album is an album that is Hibari to me, full of amazing fight songs.

In a complete crack song choice, Best of Me by Morningwood is also a total Hibari song to me.

[eternallyblight]

Highlights from the Talk is Jericho Podcast w/Brendon Small and Gene Hoglan

Listen to the podcast here

Hatredcopter was the first song that Gene and Brendon ever worked together, recorded, and completed in an entire day.

How Brendon came up with Pickles and Nathan - What is the least metal name I can think of?

Toki Wartooth - Tommy or Brendon's name frome Viking name generator. Toki is like a child. Infantilized. (yes Brendon literally said this.) rhythm guitarist, but he's the darkest character.

Skwisgaar's had so much sex he doesn't like sexual things and looks for non-sexual things to get horny from.

Nathan is the guy who can never find the right girl. He's always going for the wrong thing.

Murderface is probably an incel.

Pickles has been around the block. This is his second band. He has a whole history of being in bands.

Part of producing the show is to mind the budget. They charge you by the frame. It would take 4-5 months and done domestically for 15 minute shows. Sometimes they turn it in on Friday, a couple days before the episode airs.

Gene will always be part of this no matter what. Gene is under a lot of pressure. Gene is literally a superhuman. He has to play in time with the animation and looks for the count from his peripheral vision. He takes a month beforehand to bear down on the live show. He will rehearse to the click track.

Gene loves working with Brendon and Ulrich (the producer). He's never seen Brendon stress. He's really reliable.

All the members live in Brendon's head and annoy him in different ways. But he's been close to Nathan a lot this year.

He doesn't know what is his favorite song to play. But he thinks its really fun to play Thunderhorse.

Gene's favorite member is Pickles because of his quote, "Couldn't do it, too damn drunk." and definitely not just because he's the drummer.

Gene's favorite song to play: The Gears, Dethsupport because they're challenging.

Gene and Brendon talk about the fact that Laser Cannon Deth Sentence was so hard to record they decided to never play it live but now Gene says he wants to try.

Questions and answers about the movie under the cut in case you don't want spoilers.

Brendon wanted to up the ante when making Army of the Doomstar. This is the conclusion of the Metalocalypse story, the one that began in the first episode.

The movie is mainly about the ego. It's a dipshit messiah story. Comedy that turns into an action movie. Go from the corporate world of Dethklok to the religious world of music.

This is the end of that story. It's about the search of the song of salvation.

On why Brendon decided to end Metalocalypse:

It's really important to end a story and not let it linger forever. Finishing a project is really important. A project that goes on forever diminishes the story.

Is there a possibility that Dethklok will do something beyond this? There is. I don't know. I think that Dethklok will live forever. This is the end of the Metalocalypse story.

[aforager]

Friday Night Funkin' - Roses (ft. J8) [vocal concept]

If it's not already obvious, this isn't an idealized version of what I had in mind for J8-Bit singing against Senpai, but then again, this is what I could do with the enthusiasm and idea in mind paired with my current abilities, time investment, and confidence (or lack thereof) in music production. It's sorta hard to make "the best Roses remix of all time" when you already struggle with making remixes, let alone orignal songs. Regardless, I just had to try; it's better than nothing, and much better than it just existing as an idea in my head.

This is something I think I can provide for context, inspiration, and direction if I find somebody to collaborate with or commission for the piece in question. It takes a lot of notes from a lot of FNF musicians' takes on the original track (specifically the original and Erect remix by KawaiiSprite, EthanTheDoodler's Erect remix and D-Side take, Greggreg's Flower Bloomin' Roses, and Rozebud's B-Side remix) in both melody and structure; the main idea I had for the feeling of the track was J8-Bit slowly becoming more and more enthusiastic while singing while Senpai gets progessively tired with his shit, with J8-Bit even pulling an "it's not over yet!" moment towards the end.

It's hard trying to point out a specific genre or frame of reference for how I'd like it to sound in terms of genre since I really want to go for a Street Fighter/funky SNES-inspired sound, while also incorporating the badass dubstep/glitch hop vibes from the original Erect remix. I suppose the closest thing that comes to mind is the work done by MDK, since what I described also describes his musical expertise. Using the instrumental from the main song might also take away from the intended vision, given I think different chord progressions (especially an ascending one that builds up to the final part of the song) would really sell the drama and fanfare that would make it stand out compared to other takes on Roses.

Also, the doodle attached to the video was pretty rushed and exists to further get across a specific idea. I don't really like how I drew Senpai nor J8-Bit here, but it sells the whole annoyed vs. enthusiastic vibe I was going for.

I'm sure sometime in the future when I've got more time and ability to crack down on music production a bit, I could try developing the song further on my own, but at this point in time, I would be much happier discussing the piece and collaborating with a more skilled music producer for this.

Thanks for taking the time to read this! I know Friday Night Funkin' is a game that's a bit harder to share enthusiasm for, but if you've read this far, it really means a lot. Please reach out if you want to hear me talk more about my ideas for FNF stuff, because I've got a lot of love for it as a medium and a desire to make more sometime in the future - it's mostly just that my current abilities can't live up to my imagination just yet.

[twirlingsmilingwriting]

Hunger Games Characters as Taylor Swift songs PART 2!!

I know these aren't popular like the fan fiction on my account but I love mixing my music and intrests so ima do a PART TWO

Johanna Mason

Mad Woman- Taylor Swift, Folklore

"Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will"

Honestly, it's so hard to find just one lyric in this song that I felt like truly highlights her because the whole song is literally her. Especially the last verse. Like "'Cause you took everything from me, Watchin' you climb, Watchin' you climb Over people like me The master of spin Has a couple side flings Good wives always know She should be mad Should be scathing like me" THAT JUST FEELS SO MUCH LIKE HOW SHE VIEWS SNOW. He took everything from her and she was just sitting back ready to take him and the rest of the capital down with it. Also, I love her.

Katniss Everdeen

Eyes Open- Taylor Swift, Red

"In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords. But now we've stepped into a cruel world. Where everybody stands and keeps score"

OKAY ADMITTEDLY THIS IS A SELL OUT BECAUSE THIS SONG WAS ON THE HUNGER GAMES OTHER SOUND TRACK BUT, it is quite literally her song. Side note but this song is so sad but sounds so happy. I love when Ms. Swift does songs like this. But yeah from the first verse describing how they were just kids then one day got thrown into the cruel and harsh world of the hunger games. Also the part talking about "they never thought you'd make it this far" makes so much sense because the girl from district 12 is always seen as the runt of the picks, the one who isn't supposed to win, BUT SHE DID!! Honestly, if yall can think of another song that fits her character please let me know. I have some honorable mentions

A Place in This World- Debut: honestly, I think this song really describes her thought process going into the hunger games. She was just trying to survive and keep her family safe. Even when she was thrown into being the head figure of the Revolution, she never wanted that position, she just got thrown into it. She was just walking along the path set for her. Even the line "maybe I'm just a girl on a mission but I'm ready to fly" makes sense to me because she IS the mocking jay.

Only Me When I'm With You- Debut: So Peniss coded (Peeta X Katniss)

I Know Places- 1989: Also Peniss coded

I Did Something Bad- Reputation: Killing president coin, pushing forth with the revolution,

Sujanus Plinth

Only The Young- Taylor Swift, Miss Americana

"You did all that you could do, the game was rigged, the ref got tricked, the wrong ones think they're right. You were outnumbered, this time"

Honestly, the whole thing reminds me of his reaction to the games. Also the whole song is about how only the young can change the future and Sujanus's character really showed that spirit. He was trying to make a change but unfortunately, he trusted the whole people and the odds were stacked against him.

Haymitch Abernathy

Champagne Problems- Taylor Swift, Evermore

""This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

He has em. Simple as that. (alcoholism)

Seriously though this song reminds me of him more so because of the concept of it. Champagne problems is a term used to describe issues that seem rather trivial, unimportant, and I feel like a lot people tend to disregard all the genuine things Haymitch had gone through. The story of the song also is about a marriage that never happened, it also has undertones of lost family and friends. As we know, Haymitch lost his girlfriend and family to the capital. He never got to marry her because she was taken from him.

Lucy Gray

My Tears Ricochet- Taylor Swift, Folklore

"And I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. And when you can't sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies"

LETS BE HONEST, SHE IS SO FOLK-EVERMORE CODED. I could dissect this song for ages explaining why it's the perfect example of what Lucy Gray would be saying indirectly to Snow. Firstly,

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day"

CUZ NO SHE DID NOT DESERVE WHAT SNOW PUT HER THROUGH. She loved him truly, deeply, but when it came down to it, she knew she could never trust him. Especially with the position he put her in. She could go anywhere she wants but not home after Snow made it seem like she killed the mayors daughter. And then the part

"I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet"

She didn't go with grace. She left in a flash, deep with mystery. She has to hide for the rest of her life while he gets to be the proud hero and savior to Panem. The second half of the main chorus is so true to how Coryo was acting when they were in the forest in that last scene. He was quite literally cursing her name, wishing she'd stayed.

"You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me"

JEWELS? HER EARRING??? HELLOOOOOOOO and then the "as you bury me" HE DOESN'T KNOW IF SHE DEAD OR NOT BUT IF SHE IS, HE KILLED HER. HE BURRED HER AND TOOK HER EARRING.

"But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)"

She had such a hold on him, he still remembers her years later, haunted by her memory. the song constantly references the "Haunting". The "I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky" reminded me of the way the mocking jays carried her voice all around the sky. And the last line was so clearly connecting to 'The Hanging Tree' in my brain. Many years later, Katniss sang the same song she did to lead a rebellion against him. His life is haunted by her memories and cursed by it. He can't escape her anywhere.

The tears he made her spill simply ricocheted into bullets that hit him instead.

Effie Trinket

Bejeweled- Taylor Swift, Midnights

"Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room,I can still make the whole place shimmer"

MS. EFFIE TRINKET IS THE BADDEST BITCH BRO OMG I LOVEEEEE HER. STYLE ICON. Listen, no matter what happens to that woman, shes gonna shine. A diamonds gotta SHINE. She is always the most sparkly, eye catching person out there at ALL TIMES! Even without all the glitz and glamour she is still so iconic. She is ALWAYS bejeweled.

[softnsquishable]

Thanks to this lovely post, I have been able to transcribe the entirety of the new Rock Sound magazine interview with Pete and Patrick. Find the entire transcript below the cut!

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

WITH THE TRIUMPHANT ‘SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST’ CAPTURING A WHOLE NEW GENERATION OF FANS, FALL OUT BOY ARE RIDING HIGH. CELEBRATING THEIR PAST WHILE LOOKING TOWARDS A BRIGHT FUTURE. PETE WENTZ AND PATRICK STUMP REFLECT ON RECENT SUCCESSES AND THE LESSONS LEARNED FROM TWO DECADES OF WRITING AND PERFORMING TOGETHER. 

You have just completed a US summer tour that included stadium shows and some of your most ambitious production to date. What were your aims going into this particular show?

Pete: Playing stadiums is a funny thing. I pushed pretty hard to do a couple this time because I think that the record Patrick came up with musically lends itself to that feeling of being part of something larger than yourself. When we were designing the cover to the album, it was meant to be all tangible, which was a reaction to tokens and skins that you can buy and avatars. The title is made out of clay, and the painting is an actual painting. We wanted to approach the show in that way as well. We’ve been playing in front of a gigantic video wall for the past eight years. Now, we wanted a stage show where you could actually walk inside it.

Did adding the new songs from ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ into the setlist change the way you felt about them?

Patrick: One of the things that was interesting about the record was that we took a lot of time figuring out what it was going to be, what it was going to sound like. We experimented with so many different things. I was instantly really proud. I felt really good about this record but it wasn’t until we got on stage and you’re playing the songs in between our catalogue that I really felt that.It was really noticeable from the first day on this tour - we felt like a different band. There’s a new energy to it. There was something that I could hear live that I couldn’t hear before.

You also revisited a lot of older tracks and b-sides on this tour, including many from the ‘Folie à Deux’-era. What prompted those choices?

Pete: There were some lean years where there weren’t a lot of rock bands being played on pop radio or playing award shows so we tried to play the biggest songs, the biggest versions of them. We tried to make our thing really airtight, bulletproof so that when we played next to whoever the top artist was, people were like, ‘oh yeah, they should be here.’ The culture shift in the world is so interesting because now, maybe rather than going wider, it makes more sense to go deeper with people. We thought about that in the way that we listen to music and the way we watch films. Playing a song that is a b-side or barely made a record but is someone's favorite song makes a lot of sense in this era.

Patrick: I think there also was a period there where, to Pete’s point, it was a weird time to be a rock band. We had this very strange thing that happened to us, and not a lot of our friends for some reason, where we had a bunch of hits, right? And it didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t make sense to me. But there was a kind of novelty, where we could play a whole set of songs that a lot of people know. It was fun and rewarding for us to do that. But then you run the risk of playing the same set forever. I want to love the songs that we play. I want to care about it and put passion into what we do.  And there’s no sustainable way to just do the same thing every night and not get jaded. We weren’t getting there but I really wanted to make sure that we don’t ever get there.

Pete: In the origin of Fall Out Boy, what happened at our concerts was we knew how to play five songs really fast and jumped off walls and the fire marshal would shut it down. It was what made the show memorable, but we wanted to be able to last and so we tried to perfect our show and the songs and the stage show and make it flawless. Then you don’t really know how much spontaneity you want to include, because something could go wrong. When we started this tour, and we did a couple of spontaneous things, it opened us up to more. Because things did go wrong and that’s what made the show special. We’re doing what is the most punk rock version of what we could be doing right now. 

You seem generally a lot more comfortable celebrating your past success at this point in your career.

Pete: I think it’s actually not a change from our past. I love those records, but I never want to treat them in a cynical way. I never want there to be a wink and a smile where we’re just doing this because it’s the anniversary. Thai was us celebrating these random songs and we hope people celebrate them with us. There was a purity to it that felt in line with how we always felt about it. I love ‘Folie à Deux’ - out of any Fall Out Boy record that’s probably the one I would listen to. But I just never want it to be done in a cynical way, where we feel like we have to. But celebrating it in a way where there’s the purity of how we felt when we wrote the song originally, I think that’s fucking awesome.

Patrick: Music is a weird art form. Because when you’re an actor and you play a character, that is a specific thing. James Bond always wears a suit and has a gun and is a secret agent. If you change one thing, that’s fine, but you can’t really change all of it. But bands are just people. You are yourself. People get attached to it like it’s a story but it’s not. That was always something that I found difficult. For the story, it’s always good to say, ‘it’s the 20th anniversary, let’s go do the 20th anniversary tour,’ that’s a good story thing. But it’s not always honest. We never stopped playing a lot of the songs from ‘Take This To Your Grave’, right? So why would I need to do a 20-year anniversary and perform all the songs back to back? The only reason would be because it would probably sell a lot of tickets and I don’t really ever want to be motivated by that, frankly. 

One of the things that’s been amazing is that now as the band has been around for a while, we have different layers of audience. I love ‘Folie à Deux’, I do, I love that record. But I had a really personally negative experience of touring on it. So that’s what I think of when I think of that record initially. It had to be brought back to me for me to appreciate it, for me to go, ‘oh, this record is really great. I should be happy with this. I should want to play this.’ So that’s why we got into a lot of the b-sides because we realized that our perspectives on a lot of these songs were based in our feelings and experiences from when we were making them. But you can find new experiences if you play those songs. You can make new memories with them. 

You alluded there to the 20th anniversary of ‘Take This To Your Grave’. Obviously you have changed and developed as a band hugely since then. But is there anything you can point to about making that debut record that has remained as a part of your process since then?

Pete: We have a language, the band, and it’s definitely a language of cinema and film. That’s maintained through time. We have very disparate musical tastes and influences but I think film was a place we really aligned. You could have a deep discussion, because none of us were filmmakers. You could say which part was good and which part sucked and not hurt anybody’s feelings, because you weren’t going out to make a film the next day. Whereas with music, I think if we’d only had that to talk about, we would have turned out a different band. 

Patrick: ‘Take This To Your Grave’, even though it’s absolutely our first record, there’s an element of it that’s still a work in progress. It is still a band figuring itself out. Andy wasn’t even officially in the band for half of the recording, right? I wasn’t even officially the guitar player for half of the recording. We were still bumbling through it. There was something that popped up a couple times throughout that record where you got these little inklings of who the band really was. We really explored that on ‘From Under The Cork Tree’. 

So when we talk about what has remained the same…I didn’t want to be a singer, I didn’t know anything about singing. I wasn’t planning on that. I didn’t even plan to really be in this band for that long because Pete had a real band that really toured so I thought this was gonna be a side project. So there’s always been this element within the band where I don’t put too many expectations on things and then Pete has this really big ambition, creatively. There’s this great interplay between the two of us where I’m kind of oblivious, and I don’t know when I’m putting out a big idea and Pete has this amazing vision to find what goes where. There’s something really magical about that because I never could have done a band like this without it. We needed everybody, we needed all four of us. And I think that’s the thing that hasn’t changed. - the four of us just being ourselves and trying to figure things out. Listening back to ‘Folie’ or ‘Infinity On High’ or ‘American Beauty’, I’m always amazed at how much better they are then I remember. I listened to ‘MANIA’ the other day. I have a lot of misgivings about that record, a lot of things that I’m frustrated about. But then I’m listening to it and I’m like, ‘this is pretty good.’ There’s a lot of good things in there. I don’t know why, it’s kind of like you can’t see those things. It’s kind of amazing to have Pete be able to see those things. And likewise, sometimes Pete has no idea when he writes something brilliant, as a lyricist, and I have to go, ‘No, I’m gonna keep that one, I’m gonna use that.’ 

On ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ you teamed up with producer Neal Avron again for the first time since 2008. Given how much time has passed, did it take a minute to reestablish that connection or did you pick up where you left off?

Patrick: It really didn’t feel like any time had passed between us and Neal. It was pretty seamless in terms of working with him. But then there was also that weird aspect where the last time we had worked with him was kind of contentious. Interpersonally, the four of us were kind of fighting with each other…as much as we do anyway. We say that and the myth gets built bigger than it was. We were always pretty cool with each other. It’s just that the least cool was making ‘Folie’. So then getting into it again for this record, it was like no time had passed as people but the four of us got on better so we had more to bring to Neal.

Pete: It’s a little bit like when you return to your parents’ house for a holiday break when you’re in college. It’s the same house but now I can drink with my parents. We’d grown up and the first times we worked with Neal, he had to do so much more boy scout leadership, ‘you guys are all gonna be okay, we’re gonna do this activity to earn this badge so you guys don’t fucking murder each other.’ This time, we probably got a different version of Neal that was even more creative, because he had to do less psychotherapy. 

He went deep too. Sometimes when you’re in a session with somebody, and they’re like, ‘what are we singing about?’, I’ll just be like, ‘stuff’. He was not cool with ‘stuff’. I would get up and go into the bathroom outside the studio and look in the mirror, and think ‘what is it about? How deep are we gonna go?’ That’s a little bit scarier to ask yourself. If last time Neal was like a boy scout leader, this time, it was more like a Sherpa. He was helping us get to the summit. 

The title track of the album also finds you in a very reflective mood, even bringing back lyrics from ‘Love From The Other Side’. How would you describe the meaning behind that title and the song itself?

Pete: The record title has a couple of different meanings, I guess. The biggest one to me is that we basically all are former stars. That’s what we’re made of, those pieces of carbon. It still feels like the world’s gonna blow and it’s all moving too fast and the wrong things are moving too slow. That track in particular looks back at where you sometimes wish things had gone differently. But this is more from the perspective of when you’re watching a space movie, and they’re too far away and they can’t quite make it back. It doesn’t matter what they do and at some point, the astronaut accepts that. But they’re close enough that you can see the look on their face. I feel like there’s moments like that in the title track. I wish some things were different. But, as an adult going through this, you are too far away from the tether, and you’re just floating into space. It is sad and lonely but in some ways, it’s kind of freeing, because there’s other aspects of our world and my life that I love and that I want to keep shaping and changing.

Patrick: I’ll open up Pete’s lyrics and I just start hearing things. It almost feels effortless in a lot of ways. I just read his lyrics and something starts happening in my head. The first line, ‘I’m in a winter mood, dreaming of spring now’, instantly the piano started to form to me. That was a song that I came close to not sending to the band. When I make demos, I’ll usually wait until I have five or six to send to everybody. I didn’t know if anyone was gonna like this. It’s too moody or it’s not very us. But it was pretty unanimous. Everybody liked that one. I knew this had to end the record. It took on a different life in the context of the whole album. Then on the bridge section, I knew it was going to be the lyrics from ‘Love For The Other Side’. It’s got to come back here. It’s the bookends, but I also love lyrically what it does, you know, ‘in another life, you were my babe’, going back to that kind of regret, which feels different in ‘Love For The Other Side’ than it does here. When the whole song came together, it was the statement of the record. 

Aside from the album, you have released a few more recent tracks that have opened you up to a whole new audience, most notably the collaboration with Taylor Swift on ‘Electric Touch’. 

Pete: Taylor is the only artist that I’ve met or interacted with in recent times who creates exactly the art of who she is, but does it on such a mass level. So that’s breathtaking to watch from the sidelines. The way fans traded friendship bracelets, I don’t know what the beginning of it was, but you felt that everywhere. We felt that, I saw that in the crowd on our tour. I don’t know Taylor well, but I think she’s doing exactly what she wants and creating exactly the art she wants to create. And doing that, on such a level, is really awe-inspiring to watch. It makes you want to make the biggest, weirdest version of our thing and put that out there. 

Then there was the cover of Billy Joel’s ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’, which has had some big chart success for you. That must have taken you slightly by surprise.

Patrick: It’s pretty unexpected. Pete and I were going back and forth about songs we should cover and that was an idea that I had. This is so silly but there was a song a bunch of years ago I had kind of written called ‘Dark Horse' and then there was a Katy Perry song called ‘Dark Horse’ and I was like, ‘damn it’, you know, I missed the boat on that one. So I thought if we don’t do this cover, somebody else is gonna do it. Let’s just get in the studio and just do it. We spent way more time on those lyrics than you would think because we really wanted to get a specific feel. It was really fun and kind of loose, we just came together in Neal’s house and recorded it in a day.

Pete: There’s irreverence to it. I thought the coolest thing was when Billy Joel got asked about it, and he was like, ‘I’m not updating it, that’s fine, go for it.’ I hope if somebody ever chooses to update one of ours, we’d be like that. Let them do their thing, they'll have that version. I thought that was so fucking cool. 

It’s also no secret that the sound you became most known for in the mid-2000s is having something of a commercial revival right now. But what is interesting is seeing how bands are building on that sound and changing it. 

Patrick: I love when anybody does anything that feels honest to them. Touring with Bring Me The Horizon, it was really cool seeing what’s natural to them. It makes sense. We changed our sound over time but we were always going to do that. It wasn’t a premeditated thing but for the four of us, it would have been impossible to maintain making the same kind of music forever. Whereas you’ll play with some other hands and they live that one sound. You meet up with them for dinner or something and they’re wearing the shirt of the band that sounds just like their band. You go to their house and they’re playing other bands that sound like them because they live in that thing. Whereas with the four of us and bands like Bring Me The Horizon, we change our sounds over time. And there’s nothing wrong with that either. The only thing that’s wrong is if it’s unnatural to you. If you’re AC/DC and all of a sudden power ballads are in and you’re like, ‘Okay, we’ve got to do a power ballad’, that’s when it sucks. But if you’re a thrash metal guy who also likes Celine Dion then yeah, do a power ballad. Emo as a word doesn’t mean anything anymore. But if people want to call it that, if the emo thing is back or having another life again, if that’s what’s natural to an artist, I think the world needs more earnest art. If that’s who you are, then do it.

Pete: It would be super egotistical to think that the wave started with us and My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco has just been circling and cycling back. I remember seeing Nikki Sixx at the airport and he was like, ‘Oh, you’re doing a flaming bass? Mine came from a backpack.’ It keeps coming back but it looks different. Talking to Lil Uzi Vert and Juice WRLD when he was around, it’s so interesting, because it’s so much bigger than just emo or whatever. It’s this whole big pop music thing that’s spinning and churning, and then it moves on., and then it comes back with different aspects and some of the other stuff combined. When you’re a fan of music and art and film, you take different stuff, you add different ingredients, because that’s your taste. Seeing the bands that are up and coming to me, it’s so exciting, because the rules are just different, right? It’s really cool to see artists that lean into the weirdness and lean into a left turn when everyone’s telling you to make a right. That’s so refreshing. 

Patrick: It’s really important as an artist gets older to not put too much stock in your own influence. The moment right now that we’re in is bigger than emo and bigger than whatever was happening in 2005. There’s a great line in ‘Downton Abbey’ where someone was asking the Lord about owning this manor and he’s like, ‘well, you don’t really own it, there have been hundreds of owners and you are the custodian of it for a brief time.’ That’s what pop music is like. You just have the ball for a minute and you’re gonna pass it on to somebody else.

We will soon see you in the UK for your arena tour. How do you reflect on your relationship with the fans over here?

Pete: I remember the first time we went to the UK, I wasn’t prepared for how culturally different it was. When we played Reading & Leeds and the summer festivals, it was so different, and so much deeper within the culture. It was a little bit of a shock. The first couple of times we played, I was like, ‘Oh my God, are we gonna die?” because the crowd was so crazy, and there was bottles. Then when we came back, we thought maybe this is a beast to be tamed. Finally, you realize it’s a trading of energy. That made the last couple of festivals we played so fucking awesome. When you really realize that the fans over there are real fans of music. It’s really awesome and pretty beautiful. 

Patrick: We’ve played the UK now more than a lot of regions of the states. Pretty early on, I just clicked with it. There were differences, cultural things and things that you didn’t expect. But it never felt that different or foreign to me, just a different flavor…

Pete: This is why me and Patrick work so well together (laughs).

Patrick: Well, listen; I’m a rainy weather guy. There is just things that I get there. I don’t really drink anymore all that much. But I totally will have a beer in the UK, there’s something different about every aspect of it, about the ordering of it, about the flavor of it, everything, it’s like a different vibe. The UK Audience seemed to click with us too. There have been plenty of times where we felt almost more like a UK band than an American one. There have been years where you go there and almost get a more familial reaction than you would at home. 

Rock Sound has always been a part of that for us. It was one of the first magazines to care about us and the first magazine to do real interviews. That’s the thing, you would do all these interviews and a lot of them would be like ‘so where did the band’s name come from?” But Rock Sound took us seriously as artists, maybe before some of us did. That actually made us think about who we are and that was a really cool experience. I think in a lot of ways, we wouldn’t be the band we are without the UK, because I think it taught us a lot about what it is to be yourself.

Fall Out Boy’s ‘So Much (For) Stardust’ is out now via Fueled By Ramen. 

[calciumdeficientt]

I BEG… FOR TOM… GURNEY… HEADCANONS…

THOMASSSSSS MY SONNNNN MY BOYYYYYYYYY yah absolutely :3

TOM GURNEY HEADCANONS

That’s an autistic boy if i ever did see one. Tom is me i am tom. The no shoes thing is definitely a sensory issue, i like to think its the socks more than its the shoes, likely the seams around the toes. I feel like if tom is forced to wear socks and shoes he’s got very specific sensory needs. Absolutely no ankle socks, those were sent by the government to make your ankles feel like they’re being strangled by their oppressive regime, only gym socks pulled up as far as they can physically stretch with sneakers that are tied so tight he takes them off and there’s an indent of the laces on his foot and absolutely zero circulation from the ankle down

Tom runs a very successful horror blog, he talks about behind the scenes info for his favourite movies and also provides ratings of movies both new and old. It’s really funny to watch him in the cinema because he sits with a little norepad and makes notes the whole time so he can come up with a decicive score on the blog. He spends a lot of time in the movies, its where most of the money he threatens out of other students ends up. He goes to watch movies a minimum of 5 times to make sure he didn’t miss any details or lose any plot points that might bump up his initial scores. He has a secret spreadsheet and everything, its insane commitment, but special interest is gonna special interest, am i right gamers?

A very very good student when he applies himself, especially as a creative writer, if you look past all the blood, gore, and general slasher rapiness in his works you can definitely see all the signs of a promising novelist or screenwriter. In the poetry department, he’s not so stellar. Tom is still of the mindset that all poems must rhyme and are generally quite superficial and pointless pieces of writing. And they’re completely separate to all the private free form stuff he writes in his journal from time to time. Those aren’t poems at all they’re just… succinct vents

Tom is also a greatly talented drummer, the kid has rhythm all the way up to his eyeballs, and if he wasn’t so scared i think he’d be a great asset to bullworth’s marching band. But he knows he’d get torn to shreds by his friends so he stays well enough way no matter how hard miss peters begs for him to try out. He borrows a drum kit Russel keeps in his garage and practices using karaoke tracks of songs he illegally torrented onto his iPod, no sheet music, just vibes.

Tom’s face bruise is actually part bruise and port wine stain birthmark, hence why it stays that lovely purple hue forever. The redness in his eye is from repeated blows to the head from both friends and foes but the purple skin around his eye is (mostly) just birthmark

The rest of his bruises are actually just from minor injuries. I think tom has elhers danos syndrome (EDS) so the kid bruises like a peach. Minor bumps from passersby in the busy halls of bullworth leave him looking like he was in a full on beat down. That’s not to say that he’s not often in huge scuffles because he absolutely is, he’s just a little more physically delicate than the other bullies

Tom has the hots for angie (at least in my save he does) so he tries to act like a sweetheart whenever he’s around her. He knows that she knows he’s a bully but i think tom really wants to show her that he’s more than that, he’s better than that. Tom doesnt even like being a bully all that much, it’s just the hard facts of life at bullworth that you’re either in or out, and god knows he wouldn’t last a day if he was out.