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chelseaknoo · 5 months ago

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Imagine this: Eminem gets into a rap feud with your rapper boyfriend, and amidst all the drama, you end up cheating on your boyfriend with Eminem. Then, when Eminem releases a new track, he takes a shot at your boyfriend by hinting at your hookup, adding fuel to the fire with a line about sleeping with you.

Eminem x reader

Caution: sexual content ♡

it’s the night of the MTV Music Awards, and you’ve been given the honor of calling out the winner and presenting the award. Your boyfriend, a rising star in the rap game, is nominated in the same category as his rival—none other than Eminem. For weeks, the two have been trading shots, dropping diss tracks, and stirring up a fierce rap feud.

The tension is palpable as the nominees flash on the screen, and the crowd buzzes with anticipation. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you from his seat, his expression radiating certainty. He’s convinced tonight will end in his victory, a public validation of his skills and his place in the industry

But you know the stakes: if Eminem wins, it would be a crushing defeat for your boyfriend—a public blow that could turn the tide in their feud and become the talk of the music world. Yet, there’s a strange electricity in the air as you take the stage, gripping the award envelope, your heart pounding. Whether it’s a win or loss, this moment is about to make headlines.

"Eminem!" you announce, your voice echoing through the venue as the crowd erupts in wild cheers, celebrating his victory.

Eminem strides onto the stage, his expression a mix of pride and that unmistakable cockiness he’s known for. As he reaches you, he takes the award with one hand and, to your surprise, pulls you into a tight hug with the other. The embrace lingers just a moment too long, his hand slipping lower with each second—a subtle but unmistakable taunt meant to rile up your already furious boyfriend, who’s watching from his seat with narrowed eyes.

The audience catches onto the tension, gasping and laughing as Eminem’s playful smirk widens. He whispers a low “Thank you” in your ear, glancing briefly over at your boyfriend, whose jaw is clenched, his confidence shattered by the public loss and the blatant show of disrespect. Eminem lets you go, stepping up to the mic, but you can still feel the charged energy radiating from your boyfriend’s glare. The feud has just reached a new level, and you know tonight will be one for the headlines.

At the after-party, your boyfriend was sulking, stewing over his loss. His confidence from earlier in the night had dissolved into a grumpy silence, and he barely spoke to you, responding with short, cold remarks every time you tried to break the ice. His attention was laser-focused on Eminem, who was mingling across the room, clearly enjoying his win. Your boyfriend’s glare never wavered; he was practically daring Eminem to look his way.

Finally, you had enough. The atmosphere was suffocating, and you weren’t going to spend the night with someone who refused to move past the loss. Frustrated, you excused yourself from the table, deciding you needed a drink just to shake off the tension.

As you walked toward the bar, you sensed someone fall in step beside you. Glancing over, you saw it was Eminem, giving you that familiar smirk. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine curiosity. There was something in his eyes that made it clear he’d noticed the icy atmosphere between you and your boyfriend. For the first time all evening, you found yourself relaxing, even smiling, as you felt the weight of the night start to lift.

You leaned against the bar, letting out a sigh, and turned to Eminem with a half-smile. “Yeah, you could say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s taking this loss… well, let’s just say he’s not handling it well.”

Eminem chuckled, ordering a drink as he leaned beside you. “Can’t say I blame him,” he shrugged, “but hey, it’s all part of the game, right?” His voice was light, but there was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he understood the cost of ego in the industry.

You nodded, grateful for the change in atmosphere. “True. But it doesn’t mean I have to be dragged down by it,” you said, looking across the room to see your boyfriend still seated, jaw clenched, watching the two of you like a hawk. The icy, simmering tension in his stare made your stomach tighten, but you ignored it.

Eminem followed your gaze, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, if he’s going to sit there and sulk, that’s on him. You don’t deserve the silent treatment.”

There was something disarming about Eminem’s attitude. He wasn’t pushing anything, just being unexpectedly down-to-earth and understanding. As the drinks arrived, he clinked his glass lightly against yours. “Here’s to enjoying the night,” he said, eyes flickering with a mischievous glint.

You took a sip, the warmth of the drink helping you shake off the tension. “Thanks,” you murmured, feeling a rush of relief. Eminem leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a private tone. “Honestly, you look like you could use a good distraction.”

Before you could respond, the DJ switched to one of Eminem’s tracks, and the crowd went wild. He shot you a grin. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending his hand.

You hesitated, knowing full well how your boyfriend would take it. But in that moment, the thought of breaking free from his cold demeanor and just having fun felt too tempting to resist. You placed your hand in Eminem’s, feeling a spark shoot up your arm.

As you danced with the Detroit rapper, your boyfriend’s absence was the only confirmation you needed—he had already stormed off, leaving you alone with Eminem. The music thumped around you, and you felt the heat of the moment take over, your frustrations melting into the rhythm of the song and the intensity of Eminem’s gaze.

Eminem leaned in, his face coming closer, and before you realized it, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard yet feeling almost inevitable. The kiss was electric, a mix of passion and defiance, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The tension of the night, the rivalry, your boyfriend’s coldness—it all vanished in that single connection.

As he pulled back, a hint of a smirk played on his lips. “Want to get out of here?” he murmured, his voice low, barely audible over the music but clear enough to send a thrill through you.

You met his gaze, feeling a rush of excitement and a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt all night. “Yes,” you replied, nodding without hesitation. With a final glance back at the room you were leaving behind, you let him take your hand, leading you out of the club and into the night, where the evening’s tension was about to unfold into something entirely new.

The ride to the hotel was a blur of city lights and pulsing beats from the car stereo. Eminem’s hand rested comfortably on your thigh, and every time you looked at him, that smirk grew a little wider. You knew you were crossing a line, but in that moment, you didn’t care about the consequences—you just wanted to live in the present, to feel alive.

Once inside the plush hotel suite, the reality of what was happening hit you like a sledgehammer. The room was dimly lit, with candles flickering around the edges, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and slightly overwhelming. The smell of his cologne filled the air. Eminem led you to the bed, his hand never leaving your waist, and the weight of his touch sent shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he kissed you again, his hands exploring the curves of your body with a confidence that was both thrilling and terrifying. The world outside the hotel room felt a million miles away, and all you could focus on was the heat of his breath, the taste of his lips, and the way your body responded to his every touch.

Eminem's strong arms pulled you closer, his hands deftly unbuttoning your dress, which slid to the floor in a whisper of fabric. You stood before him in nothing but your lingerie, feeling exposed yet empowered by the raw desire in his eyes. His own shirt and jacket followed suit, revealing a sculpted physique that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

The air grew thick with anticipation as he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands moved to unhook your bra. It fell away, leaving your breasts bare to the cool air and the warmth of his palms. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

He led you to the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping you as he laid you down. His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands skimming over your skin like a warm summer breeze, igniting a trail of fire wherever they went. You could feel the weight of his body on top of you, and it was a feeling of both safety and exhilaration.

Eminem’s kisses grew more urgent, his tongue dancing with yours as he traced a line of passion down your neck and to your breasts. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through your body, and your breath hitched in your throat. His hands moved with purpose, removing every last piece of clothing that stood between you. The sensation of his bare chest against yours was electric, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room.

He paused, looking down at you with a hunger that was almost feral. Without a word, he slid his hand down the curve of your waist and over the band of your panties, slipping them off with a gentle yet firm motion. Your body reacted instinctively, arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as he positioned himself above you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Eminem kissed you deeply as he entered you, the sensation of his hardness filling you completely, making you gasp into his mouth. The initial shock of his size quickly gave way to a building pleasure, and you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper. His rhythm was slow and deliberate, his hips rolling into yours with a mastery that left you feeling utterly consumed by him.

You could feel every inch of him as he moved, his muscles flexing with each thrust. The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, punctuated by the occasional groan or whimper escaping from both of you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as if he were conducting a symphony of passion. The kiss grew more intense, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, and you moaned in response, your nails digging into his back.

The bed sheets tangled around your legs as the pace grew faster, more frenzied. The headboard banging against the wall matched the tempo of your hearts beating in sync. You could see the desire in his eyes, the way they darkened with every stroke, and it only spurred you on. Your own eyes closed as the pleasure built, your breaths coming in gasps, your body tightening like a coil ready to spring.

Eminem's fingers found their way into your hair, gently tugging your head back as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. His other hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheekbone as he whispered dirty sweet nothings into your ear, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the sweat bead and the tension in his muscles as he moved within you. His thrusts grew more powerful, each one hitting that perfect spot, making you quiver with pleasure. The sound of skin on skin, the faint rustle of the bed sheets, and the muffled moans of ecstasy filled the air—a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the suite.

As the intensity grew, Eminem’s grip on your hips tightened, his breaths turning ragged. You could feel him getting closer to the brink, his movements more urgent, and the desperate need reflected in the taut lines of his face. You met his gaze, the electricity between you crackling like a live wire. You whispered his name, and that was all it took for him to let go, his body tensing as he reached climax, his eyes squeezed shut, and his teeth bared in a silent roar.

The aftermath was a gentle cascade of shared breaths and lingering kisses. He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, your bodies still intertwined. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the candles, casting a warm light over the rumpled sheets and the sweat-drenched skin. You laid there, your heart racing, feeling a sense of disbelief at what had just transpired. It had been explosive, a whirlwind of passion that had taken you completely by surprise.

Eminem looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if looking for any signs of regret or doubt. You met his gaze and smiled, your cheeks flushed with satisfaction and a hint of mischief. The night had taken an unexpected turn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty. Instead, you felt alive, invigorated by the rush of adrenaline that still coursed through your veins.

He leaned in, kissing you softly, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving into your mouth once more. You tasted a mix of whiskey and victory on his breath, a potent cocktail that only made you want him more. His hand slid down to caress your naked body, his fingertips gliding over your skin like a musician playing a favorite tune. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and you arched into him, eager for the symphony of pleasure to begin again.

After a few weeks of sleeping with Marshall your boyfriend once again dropped another diss track on Marshall, stilled pissed about losing to music MTV awards to him.

A few weeks had passed since things began between you and Marshall, each encounter becoming a carefully hidden secret amidst the chaos of the ongoing feud. Despite the thrill of it all, your boyfriend remained oblivious, though his frustration toward Eminem hadn’t faded. In fact, he seemed more fired up than ever.

Still bitter over the loss at the MTV Music Awards, your boyfriend dropped yet another diss track aimed squarely at Marshall. The lyrics were sharper, more personal, each line dripping with resentment. It was clear that his defeat had stung deeply, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. The diss track hit every outlet, riling up fans and adding fresh fuel to the rivalry. You listened to the track, knowing the words were aimed at Marshall, yet they felt uncomfortably close to home, a reminder of the tangled mess you were in.

Marshall’s reaction, however, was anything but anger. When you mentioned the diss track, he just smirked, as though he found the whole thing amusing.

Two weeks later, Marshall released a new song that sent the internet into an absolute frenzy. The lyrics included lines that would leave no one guessing.The following lines said:

Yo, check it,

You think you flexin’, but you just a clown,

Got your girl in my sheets, ass up, face down,

While you out thrivin’, ballin’ like a thug,

I'm the one givin' her that late-night love.

You a motherfuckin’ joke, man, I’m the real deal,

She whispered my name, now she can’t conceal,

You think you got her locked, but I broke that chain,

She loves my style, man, it drives you insane.

After Eminem released the diss track exposing your affair, it sent shockwaves through the music world. Everyone was talking about it, and the excitement was palpable. The lyrics ignited a frenzy, with fans buzzing about the revelations and the implications of the feud.

A few days after Eminem released the diss track, he showed up at your house, looking more serious than you had ever seen him. The buzz from the song had settled, but the aftermath still hung heavy in the air. As you opened the door, you could see concern etched on his face. “Hey, I just wanted to check in on you,” he said softly, stepping inside.

You led him to the living room, feeling a mix of emotions. “Honestly, it’s been tough,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “My boyfriend has been really distant since all this happened. I’m starting to think that maybe it’s time to end the relationship.”

Marshall’s expression shifted as he processed your words. There was a flicker of something—hope, maybe—in his eyes. “I hate to hear that. You deserve to be with someone who truly cares about you,” he said, stepping closer. The tension in the room thickened, and you could feel the pull between you intensifying.

Suddenly, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you. The moment his lips touched yours, all your doubts and fears seemed to evaporate. It was a kiss filled with passion and urgency, a silent confession that spoke louder than words. When he pulled back, his gaze locked onto yours, filled with sincerity. “I love you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to break up with him for me.”

You hesitated, a whirlwind of emotions churning inside you. Your heart raced, caught between the thrill of his confession and the reality of the situation you were in. It was a leap, one that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a spark of something undeniable.

After a moment of contemplation, you reached for your phone. The decision felt monumental as you typed the message: “It’s over.” With a deep breath, you pressed send and immediately turned off your phone, cutting off any chance of a reply from your boyfriend.

Marshall, sensing the shift, pulled you in for another kiss, more enchanting than the first. This kiss was filled with promise and desire, a powerful affirmation of what you both wanted. In that moment, everything else faded away—the drama, the heartbreak, and the uncertainty. It was just you and him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of clarity. <3

#eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem #feminine reader #fluff and smut #marshall mathers #slim shady #famous!reader #reader smut

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aeolianblues · 6 months ago

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‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014, ‘Indie sleaze’ is not 2014!

It’s not tumblr-core and it’s not Lana Del Ray or 2013 AM, it’s not #girl interrupted, it’s not Ethel Cain (she literally is an artist of our time, what are you on about.)

It was 2001 with the Strokes on the cover of the NME every 2 weeks, it was cabaret night and English poetry with the Libertines in 2002, it’s those red and blue military jackets, it was the fucking grease in Julian Casablancas’ hair, it’s ’cocaine was the banker’s drug’ quoth Alex Kapranos, it was Don't Go Back To Dalston and the heroin, it was red and black horizontal striped tops and tight black shirts as evening wear, it was Russell Lissak’s mop top and a full page interview with London hairdressers in the NME in 2005, it was Jack and Meg’s saturated red and white dresses, it was glued glitter on the cover of Santigold’s first album, it was the sleaze and the sex of CSS’s music, it was ‘cold light, hot night’, it was the anti-Bush and anti-war stances of the bands at the time, it was America by Razorlight, it was Popworld on telly and Simon Amstel being a little shit to musicians, it was Karen O defying death on stage nightly, it was throwing up in shitty nightclubs on god knows what drugs, it was the fucking danger knowing this could all collapse any second—and rightly, it should. It was the godawful egos at DFA, it was knowing that while you were lucky to be seeing these bands live, you’d fucking hate them if you had to spend even a minute in their individual company. It was Amy Winehouse telling the world to get the fuck out of her business, it was Leslie Feist and Peaches sharing a dilapidated flat above a sex shop in Toronto.

It was horrible camera flash and red-eye editing softwares and putting your feet by the warm, spinning fans of your computer while it whirred away and downloaded your albums in *checks* 46 more minutes. It was horrible, it was dirty, it was gritty, we all hated it and thought the 90s were the last time music was good and that nothing good had happened since 1997. It was garishly bright clothes we were all embarrassed of by 2011, it was multiple layers and leggings and asking your mum to cut the itchy tag on the back of your low rise jeans only for her to snip your back. It was bell bottoms at the start of the decade. It being thankful that by 2017, no one would dream of wearing low rises anymore, please please, please let them never come back.

It was faux nostalgic of the past itself. It was ‘please make sure baby you’ve got some colours in there’ in your clothes. It was moral panic over emos. It was wanting to escape into a better past that you could see was visibly impoverished in the present. It was watching your favourite programmes become less and less relevant on air. It was watching MTV decisively die a horrible death. It was watching important venues and nightclubs get bulldozed. It was watching the last regular broadcast of Top Of The Pops in 2006. It was seeing how the 2009 financial crisis most definitely put a stop to independent music in the western world for a decade, it was watching the rise of bedroom DIY and electronic music. It was seeing the phrase ‘SoundCloud rapper’ being coined. It was the rise of Disney pop. It was counter-culture Justin Bieber hatred. It was the MS paint meme of those tumblr girls thoroughly unimpressed by the guy.

It was not using the words ‘indie sleaze’ at all, in fact. That’s a retconned word. It was garage rock revival. It was ‘post-grunge’. We didn’t care what it was called, we hated it all the same. It was a lead into a decade of despair and nihilism, it was the last hurrah for the music industry before it splintered into a thousand little online ecosystems, it was the last time we had physical community and any shared pop cultural moments. It was Live8 2005. It was the same as it is now, and it was a time that’ll never happen again, for better and for worse.

But one thing is for sure: it was decisively dead by 2014. Santi and Karen O’s 2012 collab was its last hurrah and it was dead by Comedown Machine by the Strokes (2013). It has nothing to do with 2014.

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dreamwatch · 10 months ago

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Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN.

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out.

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s.

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night.

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.”

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again.

“Always and forever,” he whispers back.

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately; Steve is his life.

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #steddie #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington

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fob4ever · 1 year ago

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i was at a bookstore yesterday that had a copy of the kerrang: living loud book that featured the FOB watergun fight article i've never seen transcribed anywhere so i made a transcript of it for archival purposes. enjoy! from kerrang, may 2005.

For a man staring down the barrel of a loaded gun while wearing just underpants, Fall Out Boy bassist Peter Wentz looks remarkably chipper. Especially when you consider the person about to unload in his face is guitarist and vocalist Patrick Stump, grinning madly despite the fact that fellow six-stringer Joe Trohman has a pistol to his temple. He in turn is firmly in the firing line of drummer Andy Hurley, cackling loudly with his finger hovering over the trigger.

Passers-by stop and stare, waiting for the inevitable, messy climax of this "Reservoir Dogs" scenario. The tension mounts, onlookers brace themselves, the band get ready to open fire. Suddenly it happens.

"Argh!" screams Wentz as several litres of icy water soak him. "That's fucking cold!"

No, Fall Out Boy aren't about to blow each other away, They're having a water fight for K!'s benefit in a car park at the Chicago stop on travelling punk circus Warped Tour, where they're knocking out their "softcore" wares ("We're basically a hardcore band that couldn't cut it as a hardcore band," laughs Wentz) on the main stage alongside big hitters like The Offspring, Avenged Sevenfold and My Chemical Romance. The Windy City is more than just another stop for them; Chicago is Fall Out Boy's hometown, the place where they formed out of the ashes of their old hardcore bands, and where they still live with their parents- who are here for today's show - during the few weeks of the year they're not on tour.

It all started for Fall Out Boy here in 2001 when the members wanted a break from playing in their various bands. Long time friends Wentz and Hurley got together with hardcore associate Joe Trohman to do something a bit less heavy. Following a conversation about avant-metallers Neurosis in a bookstore, Trohman introduced Stump to the rest of the band. When their other bands folded, they took on Fall Out Boy full time.

"We wanted to do things before we were ready," chuckles Peter Wentz fondly of the early days of DIY tours for the benefit of the one or two people who would show up. "We'd plan two-week tours, just to see the world. Nobody would book us, so we had to do it all on our own."

"A lot of bands have scenes to go into and surround themselves with those people," says Stump. "We had no scene, so we would just play anywhere, with whoever."

FOB have come a long way from their humble roots. Right now they're America's fastest rising band. Radio smash 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down' has placed them squarely in the mainstream, having spent three weeks as the Number One song on MTV's 'TRL', a prime-time show usually devoted to pop acts like Maroon 5 and Ashlee Simpson. So dizzying their Stateside assent has been, they had to cancel their recent European tour in order to play the MTV Music Video Awards, where they are also nominated for 'Sugar...'. Thankfully, FOB haven't let the screaming adoration turn them into big-headed twats.

"A piece of shit with legs on it could walk onto 'TRL' and people would still go crazy," laughs Wentz. "That stuff just goes straight by me. With the fast turnover in the music industry, how can anyone have an ego"

Andy Hurley chips in. "You can be today's main stage and tomorrow's trash."

That's to find out tomorrow, though. Today among the madness of trying to plan anything on the Warped Tour - stage times are decided daily by lottery - Fall Out Boy have to try and find time for hanging out with family and friends.

"Three weeks on Warped is like three months on a normal tour," says Peter Wentz.

"Home becomes like Atlantis on tour, you wonder if it actually exists after a while," adds Patrick Stump.

Now FOB are big stars, a lot of old 'friends' have been coming out of the woodwork. Joe Trohman and Peter Wentz have polarised views on those who didn't give a toss back in the day suddenly becoming your pal once you've made it.

"The way I look at it is if someone's a dick to you and you don't know them, so what?" says Trohman. "Just care about who did support you, keep those important people close, not the people who five years ago called you a loser."

"I work the opposite way!" Wentz counters, before adding darkly, "The people I think about most are enemies. My brain works on revenge!"

Though a tight knit group of close friends, Peter Wentz is clearly Fall Out Boy's spokesman. He does most of the talking during the interview and writes the lyrics, and seems like the most driven one of the lot. As well as doing Fall Out Boy, Wentz has also written a book with tattoo artist Joe Tesaure, 'The Boy With The Thorn In His Side'. It's a dark, twisted tale that could have come straight from the brain of Tim Burton.

"I've always been into Roahl Dahl and people like that, and I was friends with a tattoo artist at the time and we came up with this idea to do a book together," he explains. "It wasn't something I felt fitted in with what Fall Out Boy is, I hate when bands do something that's not 'them'. The book is what it is, and Fall Out Boy is what we are."

Despite all thise talk of nightmares and revenge, FOB are upbeat individuals, enjoying their newfound success, while refusing to allow success to go to their heads. They'll tell you they don't like the shallowness of groupies or industry parties, and that the trappings of rock stardom hold no appeal.

"I don't feel like I deserve it," says Wentz in closing. "It's not like, 'this amount of time and this amount of shows = this kind of bus'. I appreciate what we've got. We've toured in a tiny van and it was cool, but now we're having new adventures living like this. I don't feel we deserve it more than any other bands do."

He surveys the sumptuosly appointed tour bus for a moment before chuckling heartily.

"Actually, that's a lie, we totally deserve it more than anyone else! Ha ha!"

#yayyyyyy #article

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phoebesbridgers · 8 days ago

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What’s His Age Again? Blink-182’s Mark Hoppus (Now 53) Looks Back.

The sometimes fraught relationship between Hoppus and DeLonge is what Ozzi described as the “real bromance” at the center of the memoir. Fellow skate punks and self-taught musicians with a penchant for phallus jokes, the pair first met in San Diego County in 1992. Hoppus — the son of a homemaker mother and an aerospace engineer father who split up when he was in the third grade — was 20 and drifting through college. DeLonge, three years his junior, was a high school miscreant.

FULL NY TIMES ARTICLE UNDER THE CUT

In early March, Mark Hoppus, the singer and bassist for the long-running pop-punk trio Blink-182, and his wife, Skye, were special guests at a Sotheby’s modern and contemporary art auction in London. The sale featured a piece from their collection, a rare Banksy titled “Crude Oil (Vettriano),” up alongside works by Yoshitomo Nara, Gerhard Richter and Vincent van Gogh.

“It was such rarefied air that we’ve never been a part of before,” Hoppus recalled at his home a week later, outfitted in chunky black glasses, a Dinosaur Jr. long-sleeve T-shirt, navy blue Dickies and Gucci Mickey Mouse sneakers. The painting sold for nearly $5.5 million, part of which will go to charity.

It would have been hard to predict such a highfalutin turn for Hoppus back in 1999, when Blink-182 released its magnum opus, “Enema of the State,” which catapulted the band to MTV “Total Request Live” stardom and sold five million copies domestically. The video for the album’s first single, the jocular “What’s My Age Again?,” famously features the band members running unclothed through the streets of Los Angeles. (“Naked dudes are so ridiculous,” Hoppus said. “It just looks comical to me.”) Blink-182 followed up that LP with its first No. 1 album, “Take Off Your Pants and Jacket,” two years later.

Despite Blink-182’s reputation for high jinks, naughty puns and charmingly adolescent hits like “All the Small Things,” Hoppus is remarkably thoughtful in person. Jim Adkins, whose group, Jimmy Eat World, supported Blink-182 and Green Day on a 2002 tour, said in an interview that Hoppus exhibited “human empathy.”

“I know ‘Mark from Blink-182 is emotionally mature’ might seem like an oxymoron if you don’t know him,” Adkins admitted, “but I would say that.”

That maturity translates to the page. In his memoir, “Fahrenheit-182,” written with the music journalist Dan Ozzi and out April 8, Hoppus details Blink-182’s turbulent history and contemplates his own mortality with grace and good humor. The band’s “Behind the Music”-worthy history includes near-death experiences, bitter splits and world-conquering tours. In 2021, Hoppus was diagnosed with Stage 4A diffuse large B-cell lymphoma and underwent an arduous course of chemotherapy. (“I was all decay and poison,” he writes. “Everyone I talked to cried. Every conversation felt like goodbye.”) He now has a clean bill of health.

Hoppus, a 53-year-old California native, was sitting cross-legged on a chair in the round sunken den at the heart of his exquisite midcentury modern house, which was designed by the architect Harold Levitt. “This room is where I’ve suffered the most,” said the musician, who wore his hair, which he had lost during chemo, in a towering front spike. “This room is where I’ve had the most difficult self-reflection and conversations of my whole life.” He compared it to Superman’s Fortress of Solitude.

“When the band broke up, I sat right here on our couch and just despaired,” he said, referring to the first of two times the singer and guitarist Tom DeLonge walked away from Blink-182, only to eventually return. “I was so filled with animosity and hatred and rage, and I just wanted to get back in our band,” he continued, dropping a number of expletives.

But “Fahrenheit-182” never turns meanspirited or dour. “The book has no demons in it,” Hoppus said. He mentioned that he’d discussed his memoir on the phone with his psychiatrist — Hoppus is treated for obsessive-compulsive disorder, intrusive thoughts, depression and anxiety — earlier that day. “I think that writing the book helped solve a lot of ongoing issues in my life, because I was trying to write it with an even hand,” he said.

“Our musical styles fit exactly, and his humor was just as abrasive and as offensive as mine was,” DeLonge, 49, recalled in an interview. “We both came from broken families and saw the world the same way.”

The fast friends formed a band, originally known simply as Blink, with an even younger drummer, Scott Raynor. Blink’s first studio album, “Cheshire Cat” from 1995, did surprisingly well for the independent Cargo Music, and the band leaped to a major label, MCA. In 1997, Blink-182 released the LP “Dude Ranch,” scoring a hit with “Dammit,” a boisterous track with an indelible refrain, delivered by Hoppus: “Well, I guess this is growing up.” Hoppus and DeLonge ended up firing a troubled Raynor and replacing him with the tattooed powerhouse Travis Barker, of another California band, the Aquabats, before recording “Enema of the State.”

It was easy to dismiss Blink-182 in the early days. “When we first came on the scene, the gatekeepers and the people in charge were so focused on Blink’s comedy side, our silliness, that it prevented them from looking deeper,” Hoppus said. “But we did it to ourselves. We played naked. We do mom jokes, Tom and I, back-and-forth onstage, nonstop.” If it weren’t for the many hits Blink-182 scored in the wake of “What’s My Age Again?,” Barker said in an interview, “We very well could have been pigeonholed as the naked band.”

Over the years, Blink-182 only grew in stature among fellow musicians, inspiring emo bands in the 2000s — Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore — and the latest generation of pop-punk acts, including MGK (formerly Machine Gun Kelly) and Meet Me @ the Altar. “Look how big Blink-182 is now,” said the Meet Me @ the Altar drummer Ada Juarez, 26, who pointed out she was born the year “Enema of the State” came out. “You can listen to it today, and it still fits. A lot of it has to do with Tom and Mark’s parts and the way that their voices just fit so well together.”

The band’s sphere of influence extends to less-expected genres. “There are emo rappers who say, ‘I grew up listening to Blink-182,’” Hoppus said. “There are dudes playing in the shreddiest heavy metal bands saying, ‘I grew up listening to Blink-182.’ The Chainsmokers are like, ‘We grew up listening to Blink-182.’ I love that celebration and that connection.”

Readers coming to “Fahrenheit-182” for gossip will be disappointed for the most part. There is, for instance, barely a mention that Barker is married to a Kardashian. “It’s not ‘The Dirt,’” Hoppus said, referring to Mötley Crüe’s debauched tell-all. “It’s a PG-13 book.” The memoir does, however, provide insight into strife within Blink. After DeLonge’s 2005 departure broke up the group for the first time, he and Hoppus didn’t talk for several years. “It was awful,” Hoppus said. “I felt like my world had been rugged.”

DeLonge called that rupture “a tale as old as time.”

“When you start a band, it’s just you guys,” he said. “You all have the same dream, same aspirations, same work schedule, same passion, same drive. Then each person finds a spouse, might have kids, might start extracurricular activities.” (DeLonge, who formed the alternative rock band Angels & Airwaves in 2005, is a well-known U.F.O. researcher.) “That just creates issues amongst the band members that I wasn’t even emotionally intelligent enough to communicate or understand or be able to remedy.”

Barker’s near death in 2008 — he survived a plane crash that killed four of the six people onboard — precipitated a Blink reunion, but after five years and just one album, DeLonge bailed again. “I don’t think we were all healed, and we didn’t fully trust each other,” he said. This time, Hoppus and Barker replaced him with Matt Skiba, the singer and guitarist for the Chicago punk band the Alkaline Trio.

“I remember that first Roxy show being mildly terrified and looking over at Mark cracking jokes,” said Skiba, who went on to record two albums with Blink. “His joy would just bring me back into the moment.”

Just as the world was beginning to emerge from the pandemic, Hoppus learned he had cancer. “It got really dark,” he said, recounting a conversation with Skye, with whom he has a 22-year-old son, Jack, a video game designer. “We were sitting in our kitchen and I was dying — the medication, the chemo, was just so gnarly,” he recalled. “Felt like I was being crushed between two trucks. I was like, ‘I don’t know if I can do this.’

“My wife goes, ‘What are you saying? Are you going to kill yourself?’” he continued. “And that moment really crystallized the fight for me. That was when I was like, ‘This is a losing battle, but I have to fight the fight. I can’t just give up in front of my wife and son.’”

When DeLonge found out about Hoppus’s illness, the resentments dropped away. “I was very quick to say, ‘I’m all in, Mark,’” DeLonge said. “‘When — not if — you’re done with these treatments, the north star is we’re going to play again. Let’s do that for each other.’”

Hoppus was cleared of cancer in September 2021, and a year later, he, DeLonge and Barker announced that they were reuniting again. In 2023, Blink released its ninth studio album, “One More Time…,” which became the group’s third record to hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200.

“I don’t think the band’s relationship has ever been as healthy or as strong as it is now,” Barker said. “We love this version of our band.” DeLonge marveled at Blink’s longevity: “Plane crash, cancer, top of the charts, breakups. It’s absolutely bananas that we’re still here.”

Blink-182 will continue so long as it’s still fun, Hoppus said. “The one thing that we have all agreed on, and promised one another, is we have no desire to become a legacy band,” he said. “We don’t want to ride off into the sunset playing ‘All the Small Things’ at casinos ad nauseam. I want to play ‘All the Small Things’ forever, but I also want to keep creating new music that connects with people.”

#blink 182 #mark hoppus #tom delonge

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dandysnob · 2 days ago

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📺 MTV Interview | 🎥 Ksenia Zlydennaya & MTV World Stage

#rammstein #paul landers #userdandysnob

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thisapplepielife · 9 months ago

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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Getaway Car

Eddie sinks to his knees in the gravel, hands outstretched, groveling, pleading in his torn jeans and artfully cut t-shirt. Big, open arm holes, showing lots of skin, his hair blowing in the wind, as he's leaning so far back, until he's collapsed along the side of the road, hand clutched to his chest.

Mouth moving, but no words coming out, and he raises himself back up, just to see the back of Steve walking away. In a full strut, towards the red convertible parked in the middle of the road. Steve turns, stalks back, and glances down at him just long enough to kick a toe-full of gravel in Eddie's direction.

Eddie shields his face, but one rock still gets through, clocking him right in the forehead, and Eddie darts up, grabbing Steve by the arm, yanking.

Then the scene changes, back to the band onstage, playing before it catches back up with Eddie and Steve. This time, Eddie's walking down the side of the road, bags of stolen cash in his hands.

And Steve pulls up alongside him in the same red convertible, and Eddie jumps in the getaway car, tossing the bags in the back as he crawls over and situates himself on Steve's lap.

Cut back to the band, cut to Steve sitting outside of the bank, cut to the band, cut to Eddie and Steve getting matching tattoos, back to the band, back to Eddie and Steve being playful in bed, the band again, then back to Eddie and Steve meeting in a bar.

A story, shown in reverse.

Eddie sinks lower into his theater seat. This music video has been all over MTV for months, nearly a year at this point, and he's seen it hundreds of times during editing, but tonight is the first time he's embarrassed. He's a bad actor. He looks stupid. Who thought a wind machine for his hair was a good idea? It's so goddamn cheesy.

Nobody is gonna give this video an award.

Except. He knows they might, because of Steve. That's the ace in their pocket they hadn't even planned on. Winning a VMA wasn't even on the radar when they filmed it. Steve had to be cajoled and begged and bartered with, and only agreed when they provoked his jealous streak, because he didn't want to see Eddie filmed in bed with someone else.

They played dirty, promising it was no big deal, just a little music video that would only be seen on Headbanger's Ball.

And then it blew the fuck up, and made them all goddamn liars.

Not because of the song, or the band, Eddie knows that, but because of the hot guy in the video. Now, they're getting calls. Big calls. Big offers, and the label is planning a trilogy of videos starring Steve for the band, like he's Alicia Silverstone and they're Aerosmith or something.

Eddie glances Steve's way, and Steve's even lower in his seat than Eddie is, and Eddie reaches for his hand and squeezes.

"I'm sorry," he mouths, and Steve just narrows his eyes, and it makes Eddie grin.

The nominees are read, and when their name is announced Eddie is frozen in place. Gareth has to pull on him, and he has to pull on Steve. Steve shakes his head, not wanting to go up on stage, but Eddie knows the crowd will want to see him, will want to be formally introduced. Steve might not have acting aspirations, but the world is definitely clamoring for him to do something, anything, to stay in front of their greedy fucking eyes. Their agent keeps getting calls wanting to get in touch with that actor's agent.

That he doesn't have. Because he's not an actor.

He's their Road Manager, their babysitter, and Eddie's long-suffering boyfriend.

"Uh, um, thank you," Eddie says, holding up the Moonman statuette. "We didn't expect this." Then he turns to face Steve, "You might recognize this guy. From the video you just saw. And that you've seen played a million times on MTV. That's Steve. My Steve," Eddie says, blushing a little. "Sorry. He's taken."

And Steve looks like he wants to melt into the floor, so Eddie will make this quick, "But you'll see him again in our next video. I promise," Eddie says, and then hands over the podium to Gareth, who does the full rundown of thank yous as Eddie walks over and wraps his arm around Steve's back, enjoying looking at his reddened cheeks.

There will be pictures, and video footage, and no amount of media training could make the two of them look anything other than awkwardly embarrassed about this predicament they've found themselves in.

Fucking hell.

Gareth presses the statuette into Steve's hand for some reason, while Jeff and Goodie speak at the podium, and when they can finally leave the stage, Eddie pulls Steve backstage, and presses him against the wall, kissing him, "Thank you. I love you."

Steve kisses him back, the award hanging loose at his side, right against Eddie's thigh.

It's the image that runs in all the magazines, and with time, turns out to be the image of the entire night.

Weeks later, Eddie is dressed in some sort of leather get-up that not even he understands, at least not fully, with Steve hovering over him.

"CUT!" the director yells, and they both stop right where they are. "Moving on to set-up three!"

Steve reaches down and helps Eddie to his feet, "You okay?"

"This is weird," Eddie admits with a laugh.

"Well, if you think it's weird, imagine how I feel," Steve says, and he has a crop in his hand, and reaches over and pops Eddie on the ass with it.

Eddie can hear Gareth, Goodie and Jeff laughing from behind the monitors, all just happy that they don't have to be involved in any of this embarrassment. They can still walk down the street, unknown.

Not Eddie, and definitely not Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: If you've never seen the Cryin' music video, or just need a refresher, I've definitely drawn inspiration from it, lol. Imagine Eddie doing that dramatic Steven Tyler lip syncing. He'd feel like such a fool. Bonus? If you're a Lost fan, keep your eyes peeled for Josh Holloway.

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt fourteen: and the winner is #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #goodie (unnamed freak) stranger things #freak stranger things #corroded coffin fic #ccf day fourteen: and the winner is #steddie fic #steve harrington #steddie #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic

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whenmemorydies · 10 months ago

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90s alternative rock, masculinity and The Bear

This post by @bbythurs got me thinking about The Bear's soundtrack, specifically its use of 90s alternative rock. Some thoughts below.

Chris Storer and I are very close in age, and going by the soundtrack choices for The Bear, grew up listening to very similar music. I came to grunge a few years after its heyday but when I did, I quickly became obsessed with these (mostly) white boys singing frankly about things like domestic violence, sexual assault, drug use, and mental health issues, and who seemed to revel in challenging traditional masculinity. Their hair was often long but usually not overly styled (or washed for that matter), they sometimes wore dresses, lipstick and eyeliner on stage (but were decidedly unglam about it), and they scribbled "PRO CHOICE" on their bare arms during prime time television performances (shout out to Eddie Vedder).

Kurt Cobain on the cover of The Face, September 1993.

Michael Stipe, who often played with gender in R.E.M.'s live shows, had also recently come out as queer (his words were, an "equal opportunity lech") during the promotional cycle for REM's Monster (the album featuring Sydcarmy's infamous "Strange Currencies"). Alternative rock in the 90s was full of folks who were challenging convention, including the necessity of traditional masculinity.

The irony is that so many of the people who listened to grunge were white guys who had no problem with traditional masculinity. These were the same guys who head-banged and dove in mosh pits to these songs but went home and beat on their partners, or perpetrated sexual assault while singing the lyrics to these songs. No one can control who consumes your art, even if some artists did try to (see Kurt Cobain's liner notes from Nirvana's Insecticide):

In contrast, it seems like Chris Storer (thankfully) got the correct memo.

Ever since watching the first episode of The Bear, it was clear to me that this show has plenty to say about masculinity: how its performed and weaponised (2x06 Fishes is a master class in depicting this on film), how its subverted (think: Emmanuel and Pete but also Marcus and Chester), how those who don't conform to traditional masculine archetypes - in even the most innocuous way, like being artistic - can be isolated and picked off, including by those who might love them the most (see: Carmy's treatment by many in his family), and how those who do perform traditional masculinity to a T, can still be decimated in its wake (see: alpha-male Mikey).

Hearing tracks like Pearl Jam's "Animal" and "Come Back", REM's "Strange Currencies" and "Oh My Heart", Radiohead's "Let Down", and Nine Inch Nail's "The Day The World Went Away" used in The Bear is incredibly nostalgic for those of us who grew up with these artists. Their inclusion in the soundtrack is also incredibly intentional (like everything to do with this show). This is the music that Mikey was likely listening to growing up and that Carmy would have heard his brother playing. This is also undoubtedly the music that Storer grew up listening to as well.

I love that in a show about a man who is coming into his own after years of toxicity and abuse - much of which was targeted at Carmy because of how he performed (or didn't perform) masculinity - that reference is being paid to this genre. And if it was the case that this was the music Mikey was listening to and, perhaps even playing for Carmy when they were kids, that Carmy would be able to go back and re-listen to these artists now and know, that despite Mikey's demons and his own relationship with masculinity, that his brother always loved Carm, just as he was.

Author's note:

Also if there is a temporary (because it has to be fucking temporary, you hear me lol) Sydcarmy break up/parting of ways, I'm gonna need Storer and Calo to soundtrack it with Pearl Jam's "Black" (the MTV Unplugged performance). I'll need Eddie Vedder growling/screaming "WE BELONG TOGETHER" over a close up of Carmy's distraught face as Syd walks away. I'm going to need to hear,

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life/I know you will be a star/In somebody else's sky/But why, why, why can't it be/Can't it be mine?,

over the end credits please.

youtube

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mikufigureoftheday · 2 months ago

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Are there mikus with blue and hot pink hair? All the pink accents I see are always pastel but I wanna know if any match my hair!!

Pink, no matter the shade, will always be iconic 🦩haters wish they were as iconic as her

There aren't a lot that give her hot pink and blue hair though (,,>﹏<,,) they're mostly just an accent or have the pink entwined in the blue

and the School Sekai design is more green, but I'll link it anyway bc pink

#asks #compilation

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greendayauthority · 4 months ago

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MTV World Stage | Plaza de España | Seville, Spain | 2 November 2019

#green day #green day live #billie joe armstrong #tre cool #2019 #seville #mtv world stage #2 november #father of all era #mike dirnt #plaza de espana #plaza de españa

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thekryptkreeper · 3 months ago

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Queen Latifah RULE BREAKER

We all know this beautiful woman, the woman that set the record and stereotypes straight, starred in our favorite movies, TV shows, and hosted for the best award ceremonies.

Queen Latifah: A Legacy of Empowerment, Art, and Resilience

Queen Latifah—born Dana Elaine Owens on March 18, 1970, in Newark, New Jersey—has been a defining force in music, film, and television for decades. With her powerful voice, trailblazing career, and unwavering sense of self, she has inspired millions across generations. Today, we take a deeper look at her journey from a young girl with a dream to an international icon.

The Origins of the Queen Latifah Name

Queen Latifah’s name tells a story of strength, cultural influence, and self-discovery. Her real name, Dana Owens, was transformed when she was just eight years old. Inspired by a book her cousin brought her that contained Arabic names, Dana chose "Latifah," which means "delicate, sensitive, kind, and nice" in Arabic. But it was the addition of “Queen” that truly shaped her public persona. "Queen" was a deliberate choice that reflected her desire to embrace a strong, proud, and unapologetically Black identity, one that was reinforced by her mother, Rita Owens, who laid the foundation for Latifah's self-empowerment.

As Latifah herself has said, her name represents both her personal growth and her cultural heritage, as well as her wish to project strength and dignity in all that she did. Little did the world know at the time, this name would become synonymous with talent, authenticity, and advocacy.

From Rap to Stardom

Latifah’s rise to prominence began in the late 1980s, during a time when hip-hop was still an emerging genre. A pivotal moment came when DJ King Gemini recorded a demo of her rap song, Princess of the Posse, and shared it with Fab 5 Freddy, the host of Yo! MTV Raps. This moment set the stage for Latifah’s breakthrough, which came when Tommy Boy Records signed her at just 18 years old. In 1989, she released her first single, Wrath of My Madness, marking the beginning of a legendary career in hip-hop.

Her 1993 album Black Reign further solidified her status in the rap world, with the groundbreaking track “U.N.I.T.Y.” becoming an anthem for women’s empowerment. The song addressed issues of street harassment, domestic violence, and disrespect towards women in hip-hop culture, earning her a Grammy Award for Best Rap Solo Performance in 1995. U.N.I.T.Y. remains one of her most iconic tracks, resonating deeply with fans worldwide and sparking conversations about respect and equality.

Breaking Barriers in Hollywood

While her rap career set the foundation for her fame, Queen Latifah’s star power only expanded as she ventured into acting. With standout performances in films like Set It Off (1996), Bringing Down the House (2003), Beauty Shop (2005), and Last Holiday (2006), Latifah proved she was a versatile and powerhouse performer. Her voice also found a home in the animated Ice Age franchise, further demonstrating her ability to conquer multiple entertainment mediums.

Her versatility didn’t stop there. Latifah also made history as the host of her own talk show, The Queen Latifah Show, showcasing her charisma and giving a platform to diverse voices. In every role she took on—whether it was acting, singing, or hosting—Latifah brought a sense of authenticity and confidence that resonated deeply with her audience.

A Role Model for Empowerment

Beyond her success in music and film, Queen Latifah has consistently used her platform to promote social justice and support communities in need. She’s been vocal about the importance of self-love, body positivity, and the representation of African Americans in the media. In her 2010 book, Put on Your Crown: Life-Changing Moments on the Path to Queendom, she opened up about her own struggles with self-doubt, body image issues, and the challenges of navigating a male-dominated music industry. Despite these obstacles, Latifah emerged stronger, becoming a role model for countless women and people of color around the world.

Her activism was also evident in the themes of her music, especially in U.N.I.T.Y., which challenged the toxic masculinity and misogyny that often-plagued hip-hop culture. Through her art, Queen Latifah became a champion for respect and equality, and she has remained committed to elevating marginalized voices throughout her career.

Queen Latifah’s Legacy

Queen Latifah’s influence transcends the worlds of music and film. She redefined what it means to be a woman in hip-hop, proving that success and authenticity could coexist. Her contributions to the genre paved the way for countless other female rappers who followed in her footsteps, helping to reshape the traditionally male-dominated landscape.

Her legacy is one of resilience, creativity, and purpose. From her chart-topping rap albums to her memorable performances in films and television, Latifah has shown that true queens do not simply exist—they create legacies that inspire generations. Her authenticity, passion for her craft, and dedication to social change continue to make her one of the most influential cultural icons of our time.

My Gratitude for Queen Latifah

Growing up watching Queen Latifah, I was always inspired by her energy, confidence, and versatility. Whether she was rapping about unity or taking on a powerful role in a movie, she always commanded the screen. What stands out to me most is her unwavering ability to remain true to herself while breaking barriers in every industry she touched. In a world that often tries to limit people based on stereotypes, Latifah showed us that we could be more than what society expects us to be. She has always been unapologetically herself, and that authenticity is what makes her a true icon.

As I reflect on Queen Latifah’s journey, I am grateful for the legacy she continues to build. She’s not just a rapper, actress, or TV host; she’s a trailblazer who has left an indelible mark on the world.

And to close with one of her most iconic lines: “Now everybody knows there’s exceptions to this rule, now don’t be getting mad, when we playing, it’s cool, but don’t you be calling me out my name, I bring wrath to those who disrespect me like a dame.”

Latifah’s words continue to resonate and inspire—long may she reign as the queen she is!

!*THIS IS RESEARCH I SEARCHED AND WHAT I LIKE ABOUT THE CELEBRITY OR MAIN FACTS THAT STOOD OUT TO ME. FEEL FREE TO INFORM, CORRECT, SHARE, AND/OR ADD MORE KNOWLEDGE YOU KNOW ABOUT THE CELEBRITY.*!

#queen latifah #hip hop #january 2025 #rap artist #music artists #U.N.I.T.Y #ebony queen #music community

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sophaeros · 4 months ago

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my chemical romance for inrock, august 2007 / vol. 284 - english translated interview

Ray and Frank talk passionately about their views on life

When I thought about playing at the Budokan, I got so nervous that I couldn't sleep a wink.

Ray Toro & Frank Iero / My Chemical Romance INTERVIEW: YUKO KATO

On the morning of the Budokan concert, Frank and Ray were a little hyper and excited. It was such an important concert. It was a milestone for the band.

── How are you? Ray Toro (g): Awesome. This is actually the first time I've had this much time off in Japan, so I finally have time to explore this beautiful country.

── Where did you go? Ray: Asakusa and stuff... This time, my girlfriend Christy came to Japan with me, so we went together. We had two days off, so the day before yesterday we went to see some sumo wrestling. It's just great to be able to experience so much Japanese culture. (Frank comes in, interrupting Ray, taking off his jacket and putting on a T-shirt.)

── Woah, you have a lot of tattoos. I didn't know that because no one takes their clothes off on stage. Frank Iero (guitar): Yeah, he's covered in tattoos. Ray: Then maybe I should start playing shirtless from today onwards (laughs). Frank: Haha, you want to show off your tattoos? Ray: Well, I think it's better to be a little mysterious, so maybe it's cooler to hide it (laughs). Oh yeah, going back to what I was saying earlier, apart from sightseeing, I've been having a great time this time, performing on "Music Station" and the VMAs (MTV Video Music Awards Japan).

── Frank, what did you do during your two days off? Frank: I was with Ray and the others almost the entire time.

── Oh, you brought your girlfriend too? Frank: Yeah, only Ray and I did. Ray: Because we're smart! Frank: Yes, because we're smart (laughs). But seriously, if I hadn't brought her along, I don't think we would have been able to do as much sightseeing as we did. She knows how to use the subway. (As the interviewer checks the recorder) Are you making sure it's recorded properly? My dad writes for a magazine called "Modern Drummer," so like you, he's always nervous about making sure the interviews are recorded properly.

── Oh, I thought he was a musician. And an instrument instructor too… Frank: Yeah, he's a drum teacher, a magazine writer, and a band drummer.

── Woah, is that so? Frank: That reminds me, my dad once interviewed Carmine Appice, the drummer of a band called Vanilla Fudge, but he didn't record it properly, and he was pretty panicked. When that happens, you have to rely on your memory or start over. That makes the artist angry... well, it's a story that doesn't really matter to me (laughs). Um, what were we talking about? Ah, that's right, sightseeing. As I said, we went to Asakusa, and we drew our fortunes, lit some incense sticks, and after purifying our hands and mouths with the smoke, we went inside a temple and prayed. My fortune was great, by the way. After that, we went to Shibuya and Ginza, and last night we went to Roppongi Hills to see "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End".

── Did you like the movie? Frank: Oh, it was amazing! I can't believe a Disney movie could be so brutal. Especially… Ray: Come on, I haven't seen it yet! (covers his ears)

── By the way, I'm really relieved to see that you both look healthy. When I watched "Music Station," Gerard (Way, vocals) looked so skinny… Frank: Yeah, I guess you lose weight when you're on tour that much. He hasn't been feeling too great lately.

── Oh, is that so? Frank: We were all pretty sick, because we got food poisoning. Gerard didn't get food poisoning, but...

── Well, what happened to him? Ray: No, it's just that when you're on tour, you get tired. You have less time to sleep and eat. But don't worry, everyone's fine (laughs). But I hardly slept at all last night... I was so nervous (laughs).

── Oh, why? Because you're playing at Budokan? Frank: Yeah. I get to play at the historic Budokan with my favorite band (Bouncing Souls). It’s such a big, important thing for our career, and I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about it. I couldn't sleep at all.

── But compared to where you'll be performing at Wembley Stadium (June 16th in the UK, supporting Muse), the Budokan only holds 10,000 people. Frank: It's not a question of size. I have a lot of DVDs of Kiss playing at the Budokan, and it's a place where a lot of our heroes have played, including Cheap Trick.

── Are there any plans to release the footage from that time on DVD? Frank: We're going to film it, but we're not going to release it. We just want to keep it for ourselves as a keepsake. And with Mikey (Way, b.) gone now, it just feels wrong to release something without him.

── Speaking of Mikey, the host of "Music Station" also asked him, "Is it okay to take a honeymoon?" There aren't many musicians who take honeymoon holidays. Frank: Ah, well (laughs). We have a motto that the message is more important than the messenger. That is, our show and music are more important than the individuals in the band. That's why Mikey told us that he wanted us to continue doing that. On the other hand, being in this band, you get to have a lot of really great experiences, but in exchange, you don't get to experience the little things that normal people experience on a daily basis. For example, going on a honeymoon, traveling with the people you love, spending time with your family. So I wanted Mikey to experience those things, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to do so.

── Hmm... To be honest, I thought Mikey's hiatus was for a different reason. I read his interview with SPIN magazine earlier this year, and it seems like the situation in America is pretty crazy right now, right? So maybe it was a bit tough for him, since he’s a sensitive person… Frank: Yeah, yeah he's definitely sensitive, but this time it was a decision that we made to respect Mikey's desire to do the same thing as everyone else. Ray: It's because of this crazy schedule that we can't do normal things. We've been doing this for five years straight. Can you imagine having a job where you only get one or two weeks off a year? Frank: Plus, they got married on the road. They never had a chance to be alone together.

── But what about you? You didn't get a honeymoon holiday, did you? Frank: When I was really sick, I did take time off (laughs). Like at Big Day Out. I got a doctor's order. I've said this before, but when you do this kind of work, it's not so easy to take time off just because you're a little sick.

── That's right. There are a lot of things that you have to sacrifice. Frank: Exactly. But sometimes you just refuse to sacrifice your body or your mind. I think that's what happened with Mikey. He was overwhelmed physically and mentally and he needed to take a break. And he just got married, so now was the perfect time to take a break. And we're not just a band, we're like a family... so I miss him a lot and I'd love to be on the Budokan stage with him...

── When is he going to return to the band? Frank: I was actually just talking to him recently, and he said he wants to come back for the Projekt Revolution tour (with Linkin Park), so around August. But that's just a tentative date, and if he needs more time, it'll be a little later.

── It seems like someone is missing every time you come to Japan (laughs). Frank: Well, it's because other bands have time off and we don't have any, because we're always working.

── If that's the case, shouldn't you think about taking a proper rest? After the "Sweet Revenge" tour, everyone was in a bad mood and exhausted, and the atmosphere in the band wasn't very good, was it? Frank: Uh-huh. It's not like we hated each other or anything. But like you said, the tour was exhausting. That's why we took a month off after that. We didn't even talk about music for a month. And then we came back with renewed energy. But you know, we love music so much, and we love the art we do, so it's really hard to leave it. We feel like we can't be satisfied if we're not working or playing music. It's no exaggeration to say that this band saved our lives. We have to play music to survive. Sometimes we got sick. I have a particularly low immune system, so I get sick easily. Even when we played at Wembley, I was pretty sick on the second day.

── I wonder why. You look so healthy… Frank: I'm glad to hear that (laughs). But I do have some internal issues... I have problems with my digestive and immune systems, I get tired more easily than the average person, and I can't function without a lot of sleep.

── So you chose a profession that didn't suit your body. Frank: No, no, it's the job that's making me sick. I got really sick on the first tour and it just got worse and worse. I have a permanent immune system disorder. I have to take medicine every day for my stomach.

── Ray, are you okay? Ray: I feel amazing. I used to be sick all the time when we were touring in a van and stuff. I had an upset stomach… Frank: Maybe you gave it to me? (laughs)

── You two don't smoke, right? I think that's very important. Ray: Yeah, I smoked a little bit a year or two ago because I was feeling stressed, but I quit because I was worried it would turn into a habit. Frank: I've been smoke-free for about four years now.

── So the band has a smoking and a non-smoking tour bus? Gerard and Bob (Bryar, dr.) are the smokers… Frank: Yeah. But Gerard and Bob are both trying to quit this year. Quitting smoking was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, so I think they'll have a hard time too. Ray: Every time Gerard smokes a cigarette I say, "That one will kill you." It's bad for your throat and it might even affect your voice, right? If he doesn't quit this year, I'll cut off one of my fingers every time he smokes. That's the only way to stop him (laughs)! Frank: Haha (laughs). That's how bad cigarettes are for your health.

── A lot of things happened within the band during this tour. Mikey got married backstage in Las Vegas, two of the band members got food poisoning… Ray: Yeah, me, Bob, (Matt) Cortez who plays bass for Mikey, and about half of the crew were affected. Frank: Luckily for me, I don't eat chicken or any meat at all. Ray: Because of that, everyone was in and out of the hospital for about a week. The members of Muse also got food poisoning.

── It seems that fans have even sent threats, including death threats, to the restaurants where you had meals? Frank: (with a serious look on his face) Yes, that's awful, right? I'd like to take this opportunity to say one thing about it: please don't do anything like that. We still don't know exactly what caused the food poisoning, and we're still investigating. Ray: Yeah, we don't want that either.

── By the way, in your interview with SPIN magazine you said something interesting: "We're not afraid to live." Is that a kind of mantra for the band? Frank: Uh-huh.

── But for us humans, just living is normal and we don't think about it, so why do we tell ourselves these things? Frank: This is just my opinion, but I think that in our culture these days, whether it's Japanese culture or American culture, but in all of our cultures, we're slowly forgetting the simple thing of love. I think we're exhausted by the violence that's happening in our daily lives, the wars that are happening in the world, and the hatred that we have for each other. Because of that, we tend to forget how wonderful life is and how connected we are as humans. We know the desire to interact with each other and the love that we should have for each other. Isn't it strange that all the smart scientists in the world can come together and invent these high-quality recording machines, but they can't feed the poor in other countries? I think it's strange. It's really sad that we have completely forgotten how wonderful it is to be alive and how important it is to help each other. We should never forget how beautiful life is, and that's why it's so important for us to spread that message. Also, everyone has a fear of death, but I think death is something that should be celebrated, to look back on the life that a person has lived. That's why it's important to think about what you do while you're alive and what kind of change you can bring to the world. Even one person can make a difference. We're just five ordinary guys, but our music has had a big impact on people all over the world, and I think that's a change. So wouldn't it be great if everyone could live with that kind of awareness? And I hope we can tell the next generation that it's okay to feel anxious or think that you're not okay. Anyway, I think it's important to have the desire to make some kind of change. Even if it's something small. If you have an extra dollar bill in your pocket, give it to someone who needs it. In addition to that, in a world that is so cruel and full of misery, I think it's important not to be afraid to live your life to the fullest for yourself and make yourself as happy as possible.

── Are you guys happy now? Ray: I'm happy. Frank: Me too. A healthy body and a happy mind is enough.

#my translations #bands #mcr #my chemical romance #frank iero #ray toro #tbp era #interviews #inrock #super cute interview #they talk about mikey not being there w them because hes on his honeymoon and their ethos as a band

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autism-autobot · 24 days ago

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𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕌𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕

Sk8er Boi

Author's note: Ao Lie and Sun Wukong are both genderfluid. Macaque is a demiboy.

I decided to keep the original pronouns of the song because the lyrics flowed better that way. Just fyi.

Tw: blood, child abuse and neglect, mentions of death,

SWK: I've gotta explain to the kids eventually that we each had previous spouses, but honestly, it's really painful to talk about.

Ao Lie: I understand. You wish things ended better than they did.

SWK: I don't want to hide this from them, I can't. If one of my missing children comes home, I don't want the little ones to find out then and there.

SWK: I don't want to bury this.

Lie: So we don't.

SWK: But I don't know how to break it to them.

Lie: Then let me do it.

SWK: Okay, let's give it a shot.

~~~

He was a boy

She was a girl

Can I make it any more obvious?

Ao Lie placed two crocheted dolls on the coffee table as he began his story. Three little dragon-stone monkey hybrids and a celestial-bull demon hybrid watched curiously.

He was a punk

She did ballet

What more can I say?

Lie puppeted the dolls much to the children's bewilderment.

He wanted her

She'd never tell

Secretly, she wanted him as well

Wukong tried to hide his giggles as he watched his husband overexaggerate his ex's behavior in a child friendly manner.

But all of her friends

Stuck up their nose

They had a problem with his baggy clothes

Four more dolls were brought onto the 'stage': the other members of the brotherhood. "Babaaabbabbabbbbaba!" Red Son pointed at the doll crafted in the image of his father.

He was a skater boy

She said, "See you later, boy"

He wasn't good enough for her

The battle against Heaven, Wukong's imprisonment (minus the torture beforehand), and the divorce. The children didn't know the whole scale of things yet, but they knew what they needed to know.

She had a pretty face

But her head was up in space

She needed to come back down to earth

Red Son cuddled the dolls that looked like his parents and paid little attention to anything else. The other three children were so wrapped up in the story that one would've thought Lie had transported them to another world.

~~~

Five years from now

She sits at home

Feeding the baby, she's all alone

Macaque slapped Savage across the face as he screamed at him. Rumble had no idea what his brother had done wrong, if anything. The faintest thing could send their father into a blind rage.

She turns on TV

Guess who she sees

Skater boy rockin' up MTV

One of Macaque's advisors burst in to bring him the news.

Wukong's free.

She calls up her friends

They already know

And they've all got tickets to see his show

Macaque tells Rumble and Savage to "stay put and don't touch anything" while he's gone.

She tags along

And stands in the crowd

Looks up at the man that she turned down

He stalkes his ex as he and the monk made their way towards a river.

He was a skater boy

She said, "See you later, boy"

He wasn't good enough for her

Wukong didn't look very well tended to as he usually did. His fur was in dreadlocks, infected burns littered his body, the inside of his mouth was charcoal black, there was evidence of maggot bites covering the left side of his body, the circlet around his head had dried blood beneath it.

Now he's a super star

Slammin' on his guitar

Does your pretty face see what he's worth?

Wukong seemed... happy, somehow? As if nothing had ever happened to him to begin with.

He was a skater boy

She said, "See you later, boy"

He wasn't good enough for her

Macaque reasoned that that monk must have been using that circlet to brainwash him somehow. Maybe he could get Wukong back if he freed him from it.

Now he's a super star

Slammin' on his guitar

Does your pretty face see what he's worth?

~~~

Ao Lie hugged Wukong from behind and smiled an almost evil grin at the doll crafted in the image of his husband's ex. He shouldn't be glad someone was dead, but Lie couldn't help himself.

Sorry, girl, but you missed out

Well, tough luck, that boy's mine now

We are more than just good friends

This is how the story ends

Lie didn't mean to be the possessive type, but he was a dragon, after all. Wukong and the children he made were his now.

Too bad that you couldn't see

See the man that boy could be

There is more that meets the eye

I see the soul that is inside

Lie's own ex could keep their old palace and everything in it. He'd found something much better, and he didn't even need to rob a grave to do it.

He's just a boy

And I'm just a girl

Can I make it any more obvious?

Who could have guessed dragon-monkey hybrids could be so cute? Lie wondered if the one on the way would be just as cute.

We are in love

Haven't you heard

How we rock each other's world

~~~

Nezha placed some incense by Ao Lie's painting and paid his respects. Nezha looked over at Wukong napping on the prayer rug. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but he was still exhausted from their day spent together.

I'm with the skater boy

I said, "See you later, boy"

I'll be backstage after the show

Nezha hopes Ao Lie knows he'll never take his place in Wukong's life. That will never be his intention.

I'll be at a studio

Singing the song we wrote

About a girl you used to know

Although, Nezha would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being the most important person in Wukong's life at the moment.

I'm with the skater boy

I said, "See you later, boy"

I'll be backstage after the show

Nezha carried Wukong to their bed and tucked him in gently. He pressed his forehead against Wukong's and shared his breath with him.

I'll be at a studio

Singing the song we wrote

About a girl you used to know

Masterpost

@weaverpop @istopaskingmemate @ainnur @swkbiggestdefender @starrclown @fruit-fight

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geoffrard · 1 year ago

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Now that @mcrswarmzine is out, I can finally share my contribution!

Gerard and Geoff give us a history lesson

Gerard Way and Geoff Rickly first met—where else—outside a record store in Kearny, New Jersey, weeks or months before MTV started regularly playing Geoff’s band Thursday, months or years before Geoff produced My Chemical Romance’s first record. Gerard was leaving the record store, and there was Geoff, leaning back against the wall, cool and collected, too thin, too young, unsure of himself.

“I remember it super vividly,” Gerard said in an interview once, when asked to recount their first meeting. “Do you remember?”

Back then, Gerard lived in Belleville in a basement apartment. Through the muggy darkness of his bedroom, his hand reached out towards the few strands of light that made it underground, wishing for better ways of making art. Geoff lived underground too, back then, coming alive when Thursday filled the unfinished basements of New Brunswick with people and sound.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—at the Eyeball House, where Eyeball Records conducted business. Gerard was an artist, reserved, looking to give back to the scene Geoff’s band had helped create. Eyeball’s owner helped connect them. The shirt Gerard designed for Geoff’s band featured a dove on each side, the front dove captured at the moment of shattering, the back a mechanical bird captured at the moment of dissection. A lever in the bird’s heart read revenge mechanism.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—at the Eyeball House, where Eyeball Records hosted infamous parties. The intern’s brother pulled Geoff aside, picked up a broken guitar, and painfully plucked out the opening chords to a song—Vampires Will Never Hurt You. Geoff was not impressed. He’d never tell Gerard that, though; the scene was for everyone who made music their home.

Gerard and Geoff first met—how else—because Mikey Way introduced them. Geoff heard of Mikey’s comic artist brother and begged for an introduction. Geoff wanted to write a comic book together. Gerard wanted to write a record. They made the record.

Gerard and Geoff first met—where else—in the crowd in a random basement in North Jersey, but neither remembered the encounter with enough clarity to recall it.

Gerard and Geoff met—where else—on the streets of New York, strangers brushing shoulders, exchanging glances, one rushing to a show he was too young to attend, the other dreaming of comic book worlds devised with his younger brother in his family’s dark basement apartment.

Perhaps Geoff Rickly and Gerard Way met—where else—in Jersey, on September 20, 2023, when each joined the other’s set for a song. That night was their first time sharing a stage as Geoff from Thursday and Gerard from My Chemical Romance, representing the bands who made them and created our corner of the music world, in almost twenty years.

How much of the crowd discovered their shared history that night? Can a single history exist, on stage in front of an arena of people with their own histories with those two bands, some dating back to first shows or records, some starting that night? Do artists exist off stage? If a band plays to an empty basement, is it a band?

Maybe, for me, Gerard and Geoff’s history began on Geoff’s birthday a few years ago, the day I met my best friend Nic. We met because we both loved My Chemical Romance but grew close because we loved Thursday. Our history is as intertwined with Geoff and Gerard and Geoff and Gerard’s histories are with each other’s. Music does that. Makes itself your home.

Only a few days before she returned home to Australia, Nic was there in Jersey, trying to stay on her feet in the churning mass of people in the crowd. I was at home, sick in bed, watching someone’s shaky livestream, squinting through the fever to see if I could spot her. I’d caught Covid the weekend before at a festival we attended together. The official story was that the My Chemical Romance crowd got me sick, but Nic had only just recovered herself after catching it in the crowd at a Thursday show. So I wondered if I’d caught it from her anyways. There are a few stories.

#thank you to the mods that put out such a wonderful end product <3 #our fandom is so talented #my writing #geoffrard tag #thursday band #my chemical romance

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