#they wrote great some great albums based on these guys go listen

[oxygenisachoice]

The four winds ❄️🍃💧🍂

[idesofrevolution]

Requiescat

"Alright, my Musical Mentees, welcome back to my Channel! I am your friendly neighborhood musical critic, Kyle Donaghue, and today we're going to be reviewing something a little bit out of our typical wheelhouse!" Kyle sat with feigned excitement in front of his webcam. Though on the outside he eagerly drew out his intro for the 250th episode of his "Musique Critique" web series, internally he was livid. The young YouTuber had dreamed of becoming the go-to modern music critic on the platform but after almost two years of barely breaking a thousand views, he recognized he needed to do some market research on what his 347 subscribers wanted to see.

Thus, after asking his audience for requests, the music of some newer wannabe rockstar gained traction to be reviewed. To the music conservatory graduate, such low-brow "music" was beneath him; yet reality dictated that the business of content creation was based upon supply and demand. His audience demanded it, and if he wanted to gain any traction whatsoever, he needed to pivot. So, when the band in question, Catalyst, announced a new single drop, Kyle decided he was going to be the very first reviewer to tear it a new one.

"So you guys have been requesting I listen to this band called 'Catalyst' for a long time now, and today is finally the day. Apparently, the lead singer of Catalyst announced a few days ago that a new single was going to be released. I haven't heard much about them, so I did a bit of digging." Kyle clicked around on his computer, dredging up whatever he found in his five minutes of "research" the night before. "So, this band literally came out of nowhere. They're independent and are in talks with some record company about a deal, but nothing has come of it yet, so I'm going into this completely blind. They're out of Austin, Texas, and it's four guys who started the band out of this lead singer's parent's garage. The guy's name is Jaxon Black."

Kyle was literally reading off of some Tumblr fan blog about all this, but his audience certainly didn't need to know that. Why would he put in any effort for a band of this low caliber? "Black is 27 years old and started the band in 2013 when the four of them were in high school. They haven't really found any success, which is one of the reasons I'm surprised you wanted me to review them in the first place. They play in dive bars and some small venues, but nothing really outside of that." Scrolling through the blog, a picture of Jaxon Black actually appeared on the feed. He looked like any run-of-the-mill traditionally hot bad boy that you could find on the cover of GQ. What was so special about him?

"So, it's interesting too. This guy looks completely different than he did back when the band was formed. I totally get he was a kid when he started it, and there's puberty and whatever. But I mean, can you say plastic surgery? C'mon, guys. This guy is a 'serious musician' to you all?" Kyle sighed and wiped his face clear of the disgust he felt inside, putting on the eager façade he felt he needed to emulate. "But for you guys, I will make an exception, I'll give Jaxon Black and Catalyst a chance. I'm doing this for you! Just know that!" With that, he began to screen share, and the handsome visage of Jaxon Black was plastered on his screen as it would be for the whole review. The single didn't have any album art or anything, it was just a Soundcloud link; so in hopes that his audience would see right through this charade, he let would make them look at the face of the man who wrote whatever terrible song he was preparing to hear.

"See what I mean, guys? Ugh. I'm sorry, anyways. Here it is. The link that's posted on this fan blog brings me to Soundcloud, and there's no title or anything. It's just called 'Untitled', so we're off to a great start. But like I said, let's give the guy a chance. So without further ado, here is Catalyst's 'Untitled.'" With the press of the space bar, the sound of a slower ballad began to play through his earbuds.

The song began with a slow and heavy bassline in A flat Locrian, immediately an odd choice to start with. Contrarian, in Kyle's opinion. In terms of influence, it was an odd mixture of stereotypical hard rock like Guns n' Roses or Aerosmith, prog rock like Yes and Pink Floyd, with a random hint of Santana? Kyle did his best to stifle the cringe which trickled down his spine, but his face could do nothing to hide it. He felt the corners of his lip tense up and purse, his left nostril tweaking in pure annoyance.

"Starting off in Locrian... that's an interesting choice." He muttered under his breath. Looking at the progress bar, he saw the song was a full seven minutes and thirty-six seconds long. Lovely. "I feel like this is gonna be 'Hotel California' but bad, not gonna lie to you guys." Though, as the electric guitar faded in, quiet and subtle, it took Kyle by surprise. The technique that Black employed in his riffs, with precision he'd rarely heard outside of a classical guitarist, was nothing short of impressive. "Okay, the guy's got some skill. I'll give him that."

The music felt lugubrious, giving the sensation of swimming through a vat of molasses, pushing and pulling at great tension. It was near impossible for him to put into words, but the gravelly tenor timbre of Black's voice deftly began to soar atop the dredging music below. Evoking Eddie Vetter or perhaps even Jon Bon Jovi, the words were not exactly easy to decipher. Frankly, the song was almost trancelike, as if he'd taken a handful of mushrooms before embarking on his musical journey.

"Guys, I don't know how to explain it, this shouldn't work but it... it kind of does? I don't... I don't know." Kyle leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The song had actually piqued his interest and intrigue, it was unlike anything he'd ever really heard before. Yet, it felt so familiar in ways far outside his comprehension. Waves of goosebumps washed across his body, barrage after barrage. The music became a full-body experience, and he was rendered speechless for the first time in his life. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Kyle tried his best to analyze the theory engrained into the song but found his mind to be a mere void that was seemingly being filled with viscous liquid. The longer the song went on, the more his mind felt entirely numb.

"I'm... I'm impressed, guys..." Words began to falter, his tongue feeling swollen and heavy. Behind his closed eyes, ribbons of bright colors danced against the black backdrop, bursts of red and purple illuminating the periphery like clouds of heat lightning. He could feel the notes meandering through the air and landing on his body, pressing down with the force of a boulder each time. "He's... he's really good, guys..." A thick dribble of saliva oozed through the gap in his open lips.

It was as if he was being drained of all his energy, all of his willpower, every last ounce of strength which propelled him to live. And yet, despite the darkness he could feel creeping over his body, he was oddly at peace. As if moving of their own accord, Kyle felt himself shuck his shirt from his body, now covered in a sprinkling of sweat across his limber torso and head. The music pulsated from within him as if he were the amp himself, seemingly making the muscles in his arms expand and contract. "I can... I can feel him in there..." Kyle couldn't even fathom how he'd gotten here. He was in his room, sitting in his chair and yet, he was somehow with Black, inside the music. With every heavy pick of the bass, his biceps began to swell and firm; veins distinctly snaked down his strong forearms and into his callousing fingers. His body temperature was now sweltering, shedding every ounce of water and liquid within him into the beadlets of sweat which cascaded down from his thickening pecs and cobbling abs.

The drums and synthesizer came in, further enriching the already complicated chords which tickled his ear like a soft, warm breath. The bass line was an ebb and flow, weaving and bobbing as the song soared through the chorus, a melody that sent a ripple of lust across his body. It was as if he were on a ship in a storm, one which was luring him deeper into the dark waters as his thighs began to balloon out of the sweat-stained shorts he wore. The power of the music seeped into his veins, imbuing him with a foreign energy from a distant shore beyond his corporeal being. His calves spasmed and inflated, while his feet stretched out wider and stronger in his quickly ripening socks.

Black's voice was now all that Kyle could hear in his head, every indecipherable word rang as some existential truth. Kyle's thoughts were no longer his own, he was just along for the ride, a passenger in his own mind. He was no longer in control of his actions, nor his thoughts. His breathing had become heavier, slower... The music had invaded his very being and taken control. Spatterings of black ink began to sprawl across his glistening smooth skin, each with some sort of esoteric reference which he would not yet understand. Grim Reapers, skulls, geometric designs of unhuman origin now proudly displayed across his strong body.

"Fuuuck, man. This shit is amazing..." His voice gradually grew scratchy and smoky from years of singing for crowds of headbanging punks in cramped, smelly bars. He reached to his left, eyes still closed in euphoric bliss, snatching the small joint which now sat on the edge of his desk. Kicking his sweaty, buttery feet up onto the wooden surface, he brought the smoking j to his lips, dragging a heavy dose of creative vapor into his powerful lungs. "Fuckin' hell, you guys... I mean... shit." He blew out a heavy, grey plume of smoke from his wide nostrils. "This song is fuckin' incredible."

He pulled down his shorts and briefs, letting his lean but long dripping cock slap against his navel. Strings of pre seeped out of his pulsating cockhead, making winding rivers flowing down toward his sagging sac. A large prince albert ring now adorned the top of his uncut shaft, with three frenum piercings towing down his urethra in succession. The slightest touch from his calloused fingers wreaked immeasurable pleasure, radiating from the groin all across every inch of his body. Thus, as he wrapped his hand tightly around the limber shaft, gently caressing the prince albert with the tip of his index finger, he could barely breathe without a quiet moan escaping his throat. Quickly, the fondling turned into a measured, intentional pump with each beat of the music.

The drums and bass were now coming together in a thunderous crescendo, Kyle could feel his very blood bubbling beneath his skin as it made his way up his strong neck and toward his skull as he hastened his pace. The room around him began to blur and distort. Bookshelves formerly lined with music theory textbooks and repertoires of classical mainstays were warped into racks of well loved guitars: Fender, Gibson, Sqiuer, & Ibanez. The pristine white duvet-covered bed was now clad with sleek black satin sheets and a shiny vinyl comforter. The portraits of famous composers which once adorned the wall were now a collage of posters: Black Sabbath, Def Leppard, Motley Crue, Metallica, AC/DC, The Ramones, Aerosmith, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden. Piles of ripped up, weathered clothes, marinating in the sweat of shows past now littered the dingy red carpet.

The blood had finally arrived at the precipice of his brain, and like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks, it overtook him. His hair darkened to a deep black, his brows furrowed, his lips now plump and curled into a permanent cocky smirk. This was his kind of music. This was his genre. This was the message he was born to bring to the masses. It was a message of rebellion, of raging against the corporate machine of whitewashed mass-marketed culture. A flash of bright red and teal illuminated the room from behind Kyle's closed eyes as rope after rope of his spunk shot from his cock onto the laptop and camera. He roared in climax, louder than he'd intended, but nothing his neighbors were unfamiliar with in regards to the activities the apartment notoriously beheld.

The music had stopped, the final note hung in the air for a moment before retreating back into the abyss as his shorts melted into a dense magenta slime, moving down his muscular legs until they covered his entire lower half before hardening into slick gator skin pleather pants and a pair of beat up black combat boots wafting the scent of his musky feet. Axel opened his now black eyes, letting out a sigh of complete satisfaction.

"Now that's what I call fuckin' music, man! See why I wanted ya to experience it? It's like a requiem for corporate machine, man. That's why Catalyst is my fuckin' muse. Their music is gonna take over the whole fuckin' world." A loud pinging signaled Axel to check his phone, where his bandmates, performing as Hammerthrow, were confirming their next gig in L.A. "Fuck yeah, guys. Just landed the Cali gig. I'm thinking we cover this masterpiece and mind fuck them into oblivion. Catch us in Azuza next week, kids. You don't wanna miss it." With that, he ended his recording, smirking mischievously as he uploaded it to his channel. The song certainly was going to change the world, even if the world itself wasn't ready.

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 15: Let's Talk About That

Word Count: 877/Rating: T/Pairing: None/CW: mention of vomiting and getting sick (not described), stage fright, takes place in 2024, older Corroded Coffin, loosely based on Joseph Quinn's Tonight Show experience/Tags: Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, talk show, flashbacks

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Our next guests need no introduction,” Jimmy Fallon says from where he sits at his desk. “They’ve been rocking the heavy metal scene since the ‘80s, and their newest album comes out this Friday. Please welcome—Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie, Grant, Jeff, and Gareth make their way from behind the blue curtain, giving the cheering audience a polite wave. Nerves flutter in Eddie’s stomach as he takes a seat on the spot closest to the host. Talk shows have never been his strong suit; he’s not exactly known for his smooth lines. He much prefers songwriting, where he can edit and erase until each lyric is perfected. 

“Great to see you guys,” Jimmy says. “This is a busy time for you, isn’t it?”

Eddie nods, scratching at the gray stubble on his jaw. “Yeah, so, our tenth album drops on Friday, and tickets for our tour go on sale next week.”

The crowd cheers again, only quieting down as Jimmy asks the guys more questions about their upcoming shows and the creative process behind this album. 

“We’re a lot older than we were when we started out,” Grant jokes, “so there’s more stretching involved.”

“Yeah, now we warm up our vocal cords and our quads,” Jeff chimes in. 

Their banter earns a laugh from the audience, as well as one of Jimmy’s signature over-the-top cackles. 

Okay, Eddie thinks. This is good. This is fine. We’re getting through this. 

“Speaking of your younger years,” Jimmy says, “my producers found a clip from your first-ever Tonight Show appearance, way back in 1989.”

Oh, no. No. 

The host looks directly at Eddie as he grins and says, “let’s have a look.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and hopes it’s all a bad dream. To his dismay, the clip is rolling when he dares to open his eyes again. 

A screen displays the guys sitting there, 35 years younger than they are now, and listening intently as Johnny Carson asks them questions. Well, three of them were listening—Eddie was as white as a sheet, sweating bullets and trying not to hurl. 

“Now, Eddie, I understand that you wrote most of the songs on this record.” Johnny leans in, forearm on his desk. “Was there something—or someone—who inspired you?”

“Well, um, th-there’s my uncle. He’s, y’know, always s-supported me.” Eddie plays with the frayed tear in his jeans. Sweat drips down his temples and pools at his collarbones. “And then some of the, um, angrier stuff is about, um, m-my dad, and, like, assholes at school—shit, can I say ‘assholes’? Oh, fuck; I probably can’t say ‘shit,’ either.”

Jimmy cuts the clip and turns back to where Jeff, Gareth, and Grant are poorly stifling their laughter. Meanwhile, Eddie is hoping the ground will open up and swallow him whole. 

“Let’s talk about that.” Jimmy grins. “You seemed a little nervous there.”

Eddie nods, willing the redness away from his cheeks. “Yeah, it was our first talk show, so…”

Gareth shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not what happened.” Ignoring Eddie’s scowl, he plunges ahead. “This idiot was complaining about a stomach ache all day and didn’t eat. We go out to dinner before the show and we finally convince him to eat something. Tell them what you chose, Ed.”

“I, um, decided to eat oysters,” Eddie mumbles, silently vowing to kill his drummer. 

Jimmy raises his eyebrows. “Why oysters?”

“That’s what we said!” Jeff speaks up. “He’d never had them before, and he chose that moment to down, like, a pound of them.”

“He can’t even look at an oyster now without getting nauseous,” Grant adds. 

Jimmy brings the focus back to a now-humiliated Eddie. “So what happened after the show?”

“Nothing.” Eddie shrugs. “Went back to the hotel room and relaxed.”

“Oh, nuh-uh.” Gareth cuts in, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Tell him what happened before that.”

Eddie has to stop himself from lunging across the couch and strangling Gareth right there. He wants to play it off as nothing, but the audience is already too invested. 

Better to hear it from me, he thinks. 

“Well, on the way back to the hotel, I bumped into a fan. Gorgeous young woman with a huge…heart.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, she asks for an autograph and invites me out for a drink. And I’m not gonna say no to that.”

Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair and continues. “So we go to this fancy bar, we’re sipping our drinks, and I’m about to close this deal. And then—”

“And then a waiter walks by with a tray of oysters, and Eddie just books it outta there!” Gareth nearly falls out of his seat trying to finish the story. “Like, Olympic sprinting.”

“I didn’t know he could run that fast,” Jeff muses. 

Jimmy shakes his head. “You guys better hope that he doesn’t tell any of your embarrassing moments.”

Eddie perks up at this. “Actually, Jimmy, that’s not a bad idea.” He glances over at Gareth, the one who started this crusade to embarrass Eddie on national television. “Have you heard about Gareth’s Explosive Diarrhea Fiasco of 1996?”

“Eddie, you wouldn’t dare—”

“It all started when someone thought it was a good idea to participate in a chili-eating contest before we played the Indiana State Fair…”

--

[mieux-de-se-taire]

To the End - MCR Interviews

89.5 WSOU Radio Interview - 6/7/04

6:12-6:41

Gerard: Let's do track 3 "To the End." Interviewer: Track 3 "To the End" Gerard: Yeah, I'm psyched, this one's like very cinematic, kinda tells a story 'bout marriage and a lot of weird stuff that I had never lyrically written about before, so I'm kinda psyched on that one. Interviewer: So where was the inspiration for this from? Gerard: (Either forgetting or unwilling to admit that it's based on the short story "A Rose for Emily" by William Faulkner) Um, no idea. It just-- yeah, LA. It just kinda came out. When we wrote the music, it was just like-- it had this really great like dance feel, which we had never tried ever, and I was just like, "This is so funny, let's put some really messed up lyrics to it."

/

Trouble Bunch Music Interview - Aug 2004

Paragraph 12

Interviewer: In 'To The End', why does the elevator only go up to ten and would you feel okay getting off on the thirteen floor? Gerard: Well, I felt that picking a lower number would be like 'I can't get high enough' so I had to pick somewhere around ten. I felt like I just needed to get higher; like the top just isn't good enough. I think that's kind of a metaphor in how we feel and how we operate as a band, that the top isn't good enough since that's not what we're after. It's not good enough for us because we want to make a difference and actually change things. We don't just want things thrown at us. But I've gotten off on thirteenth floors. They make them right? 

/

Kerrang Interview - Aug 2005

Page 3

Gerard: Without Blur we never would have had songs like 'You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison'. I saw 300 people start crying when they played 'To The End', which is a song title I ripped off of them.

/

MCR Forum Interview - 10/30/10

Paragraph 4

Ray: Planetary (GO), which has a different energy, but it's something that we've always tried to write, but we never did one hundred percent. If you look at a song like "Vampires Will Never Hurt You," it has a little bit of that. It doesn't have the electronics in it, but it easily could. And "To The End" on Revenge has that kind of like disco *drums on leg* 16th note hi-hat thing in the verses.

/

Grammy Museum Interview - 1/26/11

7:19-7:34

Mikey: On each of our albums we'd always come like a centimeter closer to writing a full on dance song. And even back to like "Vampires Will Never Hurt You," it's kind of-- Ray: Yeah, it has that vibe for sure. Mikey: --good dance to it. And then, um, "Sharpest Lives," uh, (quietly, not into the mic, holding up 3 fingers) what was the other one? Ray: "To the End" Mikey: "To the End," yeah.

/

Two Minutes to Late Night Interview - 8/15/22

8:05-8:54, 46:42-46:54

Gwarsenio Hall (Interviewer): Like "To the End" Frank: Oh yeah Gwarsenio: "To the End" are, like-- "To the End" and-- Frank: I'm pulling up the track listing by the way Gwarsenio: "To the End" and, uh-- I'm so sorry-- song number 2 on the record, start-- they both have these like-- Frank: Oh, "Give 'Em Hell Kid" ... Gwarsenio: Like, I listened to it, and I was like-- there's like The Stooges and Queens of the Stone Age shit on this. Even in "To the End," the little (vocalizing) "do do do do." I'm like, "This is a Josh Homme riff right here." Frank: (laughs) Which is funny because I don't feel like anybody was listening to Queens at that point. I don't know, was-- when did Songs for the Deaf come out? Gwarsenio: '03, probably, so you guys might have been-- Frank: Oh really? Alright, so maybe right around there then.

Gwarsenio: What song do you think would make like a fun, like, drag queen lipsync? Frank: I'm thinking-- I think the danciest song is "To the End," right? It has the most vibe to it, so maybe "To the End."

[buoyantsaturn]

Hii if u wanted to, it'd be so cool if you talked about the band naming choices!! I think they're super sick

omg absolutely <3

first and foremost i should state that all of the bands were formed based off of certain vibes from real life bands (i had just finished reading where are your boys tonight. sorry <3) so some of the character traits / band groupings / names were slightly influenced by that. anyway <3

true blue: so. fall out boy has this thing about blue imagery in their songs. and as soon as that connection was pointed out to me i was like oh percy's band has to be the fall out boy equivalent. i did a bad job of actually making anything about the two bands actually line up in the canon of this fic. however you should know that percy and grover have an insane pete/patrick relationship. that didn't answer your question. true blue is a lyric in fob's ginasfs <3 i also fully stole fall out boy's evening out with a girlfriend to use as their debut album <3

psychopomp: the mcr equivalent. i think this will become more and more clear as the fic progresses. admittedly i was listening to a lot of hozier's new album during the planning stages of this fic. i also named the fic before i'd chosen all of the band's members i think, which is why there's the slightly strange combo of nico hazel lou and cecil. HOWEVER ive seen tons of people talk about how nico lou and cecil would get along great because all of their parents are chthonic deities (something something hermes used to be the one that ferried souls to erebos?? i think??) and i was also originally going to have a bit where all of the members of psychopomp had former jobs as tour guides of some kind (orientation leader at college, museum tour guide, etc) bc of. psychopomps being the ones that guide you to the afterlife. you know. btw 'the basement demos' is a play on mcr's 'attic demos' but there are no characters in this series that own a place that has an attic so. basement it was!

past tense: this one is actually so funny and if i explain it itll ruin a joke thats set up in like. one of the last 5 chapters lol. i just wrote it last night <3 also past tense is a dashboard confessional equivalent hence the swiss army romance demo chapter title <3

new fall of rome: what's so funny is. unintentionally. this band is basically the panic at the disco equivalent. there is nothing in the fic that really supports this other than the fact that these guys got a record deal before ever playing a show. if i wasnt a coward i wouldve found a way to include the fob/patd connection but it wasnt going to work with the timeline so they get a rivalry instead. no spoilers <3 anyway band name chosen for new roman reasons but also it has a similar feel to like. new found glory you know. or the new london fire. it just had a real band name feel to it honestly its the band name im proudest of bc its the one that i think could most realistically be used lol

and a future throwaway mention of heroz journey which was just because dreamy wanted an easter egg <3

thats all of the core bands and i dont think i named any others??? but if i missed one feel free to ask <3 i also went way overboard and explained the whole band vibe instead of just the name but ive been waiting for so long for someobdy to aks me about this fic so <3 congrats you got So Much.

[imhereformr]

Came across this post by melodiesandfairywings, and I thought #14 was fun so I wrote a oneshot based on it.

Musa wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up at the party – some friend of a friend of a friend had mentioned it maybe. She was sure that, if asked, she could never pinpoint the host. Whoever they were, though, they had a nice home. She’d only seen the entry hall with its golden walls, extravagant art pieces and chandelier, and the living room where she was currently wandering through a throng of people she’d never seen before. 

“You came!” a voice shouted, she was pretty sure, at her. 

It took her a minute of trying to look over heads, but she successfully identified the voice as Aisha’s, one of the dancers on her tour, and the person, Musa was willing to bet, who’d invited her to this party. They’d only met a few times since rehearsals had only started two weeks earlier, but Musa liked her. Aisha was witty, and gorgeous. Tall, with dark skin and mesmerizing blue eyes. Her hair was done up in braids and decorated with beads that matched her eyes. 

“Yeah, well. I didn’t have much else going on tonight.” 

“I’m going to pretend that what you actually said was Gosh, Aisha, thanks so much for inviting me.” 

“Gosh, Aisha. Thanks so much for inviting me” Musa parroted. Aisha chuckled at her mockery before insisting on introducing Musa to her friends. They walked through the crowds, Aisha introducing Musa to a bunch of people whose names she’d never remember. Some she may remember by face – like the guy with the elaborate twirly moustache that must be held in place by a pound of gel.  

When they reached the kitchen with its teal cabinetry and coral pink island chairs, Aisha b-lined for a group by the patio door. “And these are my friends-“ 

“Who were those other people then?” 

“People” Aisha shrugged. Musa laughed. Tecna, her best friend, would die at the idea of socialising with people she wasn’t friends with. If Tecna had her way, she’d never have to talk to anyone except the very few people she liked again. Musa could be social, but at her core, she tended to be a loner. She knew people, but nowhere near as many as Aisha apparently did.  

Aisha introduced her friends: Stella, the hostess of the party, a perky blonde that dressed like she had walked off a runway. Brandon, Stella’s supermodel boyfriend, who apparently was not a supermodel, but rather a soccer player. Flora, with a sugary sweet voice, and a smile that made Musa want to entrust the girl with her deepest secrets and worries. Helia, her artistic boyfriend who Stella proudly boasted had painted most of the pieces in her entryway. And Nabu, Aisha’s boyfriend, who had spent the last few minutes looking at Aisha like she was the sun.  

“This is Musa” Aisha finished, motioning to Musa.  

“Oh, you’re the singer!” Stella’s excited shout caused a few people to look their way. The blonde bashfully apologised before continuing. “Aisha made me listen to the album-“ 

“How did you…” Musa’s debut album was only slated to come out in a week, followed by a short national tour that would start four months later. No one except Musa’s close friends, members of the tour, and those that had worked on the record had heard it. None of them had it in their possession, though.  

“I got it from Dufour. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“So much for an NDA” Musa laughed.  

“It’s not completely breaking the NDA. Stella’s your costume designer.” 

“And I have so many ideas!” Stella didn’t wait to be prompted before going off about her many, admittedly, great ideas for Musa’s costumes, as well as the dancers, the band, she even thought of costumes for the stagehands. Musa interrupted to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary. Stella shrugged off her comment about the stagehands and continued to explain her ideas based on concepts in Musa’s album. Everyone in the group didn’t bat an eye at Stella’s verbal diarrhea, so Musa assumed it must be normal for her.  

The conversation moved on, Brandon brought her a beer, a redhead that was introduced as Bloom joined the group, Stella wandered away to play the gracious hostess, Flora told them about her and Helia’s wedding plans, and Nabu made her laugh so much her side started to hurt. Musa liked them. They were friendly. Nabu suggested they move away from the doorway and onto the patio when people started heading outside for a late-night dip in Stella’s pool, so they ended up by the wall just beside the door on the patio. 

And that was where she saw him.  

He was sitting on one of the pool chairs with a drink in his hand looking rather uninterested in the whole scene. He ran his hand through slicked back maroon hair and took a sip of his drink, flexing his muscle in Musa’s direction. He was gorgeous.  

“Who’s that?” Musa leaned into Aisha to whisper, nodding at the man.  

Aisha turned her head very much not subtly to look at him. “No clue. He’s hot, though. Maybe Stella knows.” The dancer started to look inside, trying to find the hostess. Musa kept looking at the man, wondering why he wasn’t having fun. Everyone she’d met was so nice. Maybe he just needed to talk to someone.  

He looked at her.  

Dead on.  

Full on caught her staring at him. 

Musa felt the heat rush up her cheeks. He was looking right at her, and she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from him. Like he’d transfixed her in place with smoldering eyes and sharp cheekbones. Oh, and he was tall – she loved them tall (though, really, to her 5’2”, everyone was tall). God, he was really nicely toned too; his muscles almost seem to ripple when he moved. She bet he h- 

“Girl, he’s coming this way.” 

“What?” Musa yelped. Sure enough, when she looked back at him, he was a few feet from them. And everyone other than Aisha had left, she realised seconds later. When had that happened? How long had she been watching him?  

“Hi.” He shoved his hands in his front pockets. Musa felt a tight smile reach her lips as his eyes roamed over her, stopping when they finally met hers. She tried to think of something to say – maybe something funny or smart, or maybe just hi – but her brain seemed to have spontaneously combusted. Every word that she knew had either combusted with every other thought she had, or they’d escaped by jumping out of her brain.   

“Hi! I’m Aisha” the dancer said, elbowing Musa in the ribs and successfully snapping her out of her trance. “This is Musa.” 

An amused smirk appeared on his face as his gaze strayed over to Aisha and back to her. “Riven.” 

Aisha excused herself, coming up with the most half-assed excuse. I have to be... not here. She really could’ve at least said she had to pee.  

Musa took a deep breath, trying to calm her brain and nerves and vagina. 

 “So, what brings you to this party?” she asked, mentally berating herself for such a stupid question. He really looked so fucking good that any semi-interesting thought had slipped her mind. She was a sucker for tight black tees and jeans, especially when the wearer was six feet tall and built like a god.  

“Masochism.” 

“You’re obviously the life of every party you attend.” 

He smirked. “That obvious?” 

“Blatantly, yes” she deadpanned. 

“I’m amazed we haven’t been stopped by someone coming to say hi to you.” 

Riven laughed. He had a nice laugh. He leaned into her, resting his palm against the brick wall behind her. “It’s cause they can tell I’m much more interested in talking to you.” 

“Just talking?” Musa asked sweetly, looking up at him through her lashes. He swallowed heavily, a blush that was only slightly visible thanks to the dim outdoor lights rising to his cheeks. Riven looked over at the partygoers, so she took her chances. His stubble brushed lightly against her hand as she cupped his cheek and pulled his face down towards her. “Just talking?” she asked again, this time in a more suggestive tone.  

“Maybe I had a bit more in mind, but I’m a gentleman -” 

“Are you?” she scoffed. 

“I’m a feminist?” He tried again. 

“Oh?” 

“I was gonna wait for you to make the first move!” 

“You approached me.” 

“To talk.”  

“Right.” 

Riven backed up a bit. “Am I right in getting the feeling you don’t want to?” 

“I don’t want to...? Fuck you?”  

“Y-yeah.” 

Musa smirked, enjoying the switch that had just occurred. She much preferred being the predator; he had just caught her off guard. She pushed herself off the wall and leaned into him. At her instruction, he bent down to hear her whisper: “You’re very wrong. I very much want to.” 

In what must have been the world’s worst timing, Stella’s voice cut into their bubble. It took Musa a moment to realise that the other members of the group – save for Aisha who was looking at them menacingly from across the patio – were coming back. All through the re-expansion of the group, Musa couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was so goddamn beautiful. She drowned in his gaze, died in his gaze and went to heaven where she found herself floating above dark violet clouds, looking at him. It should be criminal for someone to be that attractive. 

“Do you two want access to one of the guestrooms so you can fuck and get this staring contest over with?”  

Musa went red at Stella’s offer, but well… she wouldn’t say no.  

The corners of Riven’s lips lifted. He tilted his head and raised his brows at her, asking if she wanted to. Musa bit her lower lip – she'd never had sex at a party before, much less a party at someone else’s house. What a specimen he was for that first-time experience. She didn’t have qualms about people hearing her – and she’d been told that she was, well, loud – but a situation this crowded would make her a bit more self-conscious normally. Everyone would understand immediately with a single look at Riven, though. 

It dawned on her that the entire group was waiting, looking at her, waiting for an answer. She, in the meantime, had been zoning out, letting her desire control her thoughts. A distressing and embarrassing heat rushed up her neck and cheeks. That asshole had taken the moment to regain control. Predator, not prey, she reminded herself. “I wouldn’t say no to that,” she replied coolly, returning Riven’s lusty gave.  

“If you don’t mind,” she added, remembering that she was a guest in Stella’s home.  

“Mind? Absolutely not, dahling. The housekeeper changes those sheets after every party for a reason.”  

Stella was up in seconds, leading the way through the packed house. Musa and Riven exchanged a quick glance that was interrupted by Aisha urging them to follow. They stood up and followed Stella as she wound through bodies to the palatial house’s entryway. He stood a few inches behind her the whole way, once putting his hand against the small of her back to swerve her out of the way of spilling beer.  

They followed Stella up the ‘off limits’ staircase on the right-hand side of the front door to the start of a soft pink hallway lined with more artwork – mainly fashion sketches – and plants. She stopped at the second door on the left, unlocked it and walked away with nothing more than a wink. 

She followed Riven in, closing the door behind her. She turned to him and leaned against the door. The guest room was painted light blue with an accent navy wall against which a bed with a navy duvet. There were other things in the room – two bedside tables with matching lamps, a single chair in the corner, some dark wood dressers, various knick-knacks – but they were lost to her. 

Riven sat on the edge of the bed, his shoes and shirt had already been discarded. She purred appreciatively at the sight before her; chiseled abs, arms that could squeeze tightly or pick her up and fuck her against the wall, a jawline that could cut glass, and lustful violet eyes that sent shivers up her spine.  

He looked up at her, inviting her to join him. Not wasting a moment, Musa leapt towards him, pulling off her own shirt as she went. She climbed over him, straddling him as she pulled him into the steamy kiss she’d been dreaming of. 

“You said an hour” he grumbled between kisses.  

She laughed as she trailed kisses down his jaw. “I said about an hour.” 

“Three hours can’t even be close to considered about an hour, babe” he countered.  

Musa sat upright and ran a finger along his chest, giving him her best innocent pout. “Still love me?” 

Riven rolled his eyes, an amused grin lighting up his features. She loved when he smiled – genuinely smiled, not that stupid cocky smirk. He was always most beautiful when he smiled, even better when he smiled for her. The first time she’d seen him genuinely smile, almost five years ago now, was the moment she’d fallen in love with him; the moment her crush had become this all-encompassing need to be his, to do everything she could to make him happy.  

“You know I do” he whispered before pulling her back into a kiss that melted her whole being.  

[saneabandoned]

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandoms: My Chemical Romance I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance (Album) Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge - My Chemical Romance (Album) Black Parade - My Chemical Romance (Album) Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album) Original Work

Relationship: Gerard Way/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Gerard Way Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Based on a My Chemical Romance Song I Wrote This While Listening to My Chemical Romance's Music

Language: English

Summertime

Chapter 2

The night was chilly, but thankfully the rain had finally stopped. It was not unusual in Jersey for this time of the year to be raining a lot, but unpleasant nevertheless. Some people like the rain, it soothes them, makes them slow down and appreciate nature. Or whatever.

The shuddering girl was not one of them for sure – her thoughts focused on her imminent comic drawing failure, she was almost running to get home. When did it get so cold? She could see her breath coming out in little clouds as she was nervously exhaling way faster than usual. She was so immersed in her worries that she missed her bus stop and ended up in a little alley right as it was starting to rain again.

“Great,” she sighed. Now she was cold, wet and lost. This was the last bus of the evening, which was the reason for her hurry to get home. She knew being late was her own fault – she had stayed five minutes longer smoking (a habit she thought she had gotten rid of long ago) and thinking about the guy she met at the café. Despite knowing that she was almost inevitably going to miss the transport, she just couldn’t stop herself, there was something captivating about him. He seemed genuinely interested in her art and that was the first time in a long time that anybody had asked her something personal, beyond the usual phrases accompanying the slightly creepy men who sometimes ended up in the café, especially at night.

But he didn’t seem creepy, not at all.

Not yet, anyway.

The rain was getting stronger and the only solution she could think of was to go somewhere until it stopped and call a taxi (that she didn’t have the money for) or just… wait until the morning.

Needless to say, sleep was a foreign territory.

Looking around, she saw a little apartment complex that seemed not too suspicious and was well lit and (hopefully) safe to spend some time in. She headed towards it and reached the entrance, which shielded her from the rain. Sighing, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to breathe for a second in this cool but dry little space that smelled like cigarette smoke and wet cement.

When was the last time she had a good, full night of sleep? She couldn’t remember, her days were so full of stressing over the comic magazine commissions and the monotone shifts at the café that sleep just didn’t sound appetizing anymore. It was yet another chore and one she was not excelling at, unfortunately. Tired, so tired… and there were also…

A car, making an awful screech, disrupted her thoughts and made her open her eyes, anxiously looking around, momentarily confused about her surroundings. Seeing as she was still where she remembered last to be and with the car driving away, she allowed herself to relax.

Still safe.

The rain wasn’t stopping, it was like a firm gray curtain, hiding the world outside the little entrance. Disgusted, she turned away from the wet coldness and found herself skimming the doorbell names.

John E.

Kesley F.

Gerard W.

Robin T.

Herbert H.

Wils--

Right as she was reading the last one, the door surprisingly opened and almost knocked her over. She miraculously kept her balance and turned, only to appear face to face with a hooded figure, carrying a large bag and something that looked like a very big tripod.

“Sorry, didn’t see you…” a familiar voice murmured.

“It’s fine,” she croaked, her voice unused for the past hour.

The person lifted their head at the sound and two hazel eyes met her stare.

“Oh,” it was the café guy.

Urgh.

She felt uneasy, what if he thought she was stalking him? How was she going to explain herself lurking around his apartment building, way out of her usual route, just standing there, wet and half asleep?

He didn’t seem to mind, his face curiously turned to her own. Examining me, she thought.

“Hi again, I didn’t… know you lived here,” she murmured.

He dropped his baggage on the ground, carefully balancing the tripod thing on the wall.

A microphone stand, she realized.

“I don’t suppose you could have”, he replied while lighting a cigarette, his fingers slightly covered in what looked like black dye.

“I could have… what?” she didn’t understand, having spent the last ten seconds observing his fingers and wondering at the back of her mind whether he was going to kidnap her.

He had the perfect opportunity, after all.

His shoulders shuddered in what looked like laughter, even though it was silent.

“Known I live here. It says my name alright, but you don’t know it.”

“Ah. Yeah, right.”

Pathetic. Huh.

He lifted his free hand and ruffled his already messy and tangled dark hair before resting his back on the opposite side of the wall and looking directly at her.

“So, what are you doing here? Do you know anybody who lives here, are you going in?”

He didn’t seem to think she was a weird stalker at least. That was a relief. Somewhat.

She shook her head, “No, I missed my bus. It started raining and I was looking for a place to shelter myself from the cold, and this looked… safe enough.”

His eyes narrowed.

“How long do you plan on staying here? As far as I know there aren’t any more buses for the night.”

Inwardly cursing, she smiled weakly, shrugging.

“You’re not spending the night outside, that’s crazy even for Jersey.”

He just wasn’t going to let it go, was he?

“It’s fine.”

He shook his head.

“Seriously, I don’t want to keep you, you were obviously on your way to some… somewhere and I will figure it out. Just go.”

His eyebrow lifted. In the dim light his eyes looked properly yellow, as if he was the embodiment of some Halloween character, or a cat, with his black clothes and lamp-like eyes.

“I have a gig with my band tonight. You should come with me.”

Now was her turn to raise her brows. “In a bar?”

He nodded, picking up his bags.

“Is it far?”

He chuckled, “What does it matter?”, as he went out in the night, quickly pacing through the mud and puddles.

She shrugged, hugging herself in her leather jacket, preparing for the rain.

“I don’t suppose it does, yeah.”

Silently walking next to the (still stranger!) guy, she found herself actually enjoying this, weirdly enough. It was not the best weather, but the rain had stopped, and the sky was clear, the air cold and filled with the usual Jersey smell of foggy uncleanness. Her shoes were squeaky, having spent so much time wet and it wasn’t really comfortable. Her hair was dripping water on her shoulders and her hands were just two ice blocks.

But it was a nice change to have someone to talk to.

“Hey, I never caught your name”, the guy said, after a proper fifteen minutes of just silent walking.

She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, well… I’m Raven.” She felt the inevitable warmness climbing her cheeks. She didn’t really like her name, there was nothing wrong with it, but it always sounded made up, as if she was using an artsy pseudonym. Which she wasn’t, it was on her ID.

“That’s a cool name. I’m Gerard.”

Gerard W.

“Nice to meet you”, she glanced up, finding him smiling at her.

“Ditto.”

***

The bar was a small, currently crowded thing, not really a bar, but more of a… just a tiny space, filled with cigarette smoke, the stench of alcohol and many people. It was dimly lit and stuffy, but again, a better alternative to the wet coldness of Jersey outside.

Raven hadn’t been to a gig in a long time. She used to love listening to live music, but that was a long time ago, when she still had a few friends and some kind of a social life outside the café. Now her days were filled with numerous coffee orders, drawing and scribbling whenever she had the time to – and that was not much the thing that would attract friends your way, one might say.

She looked around, conscious of her appearance – her dark hair sopping wet, soaked shoes and the dirtiest jeans imaginable, the very ones she wore at work and didn’t have time to change today. Nobody seemed to notice her, so that was nice. No weird looks thrown her way.

Reverting her gaze back at Gerard, Raven saw he was waving at her to follow him – probably backstage. She hesitated but he rolled his eyes and mouthed a “come on!”. At least backstage had to be a little less crowded.

They stepped through a small wooden door leading to a chilly, musty sort of place that looked like a bathroom and a pantry combined. Maybe it was. Gerard sighed and dropped his stuff on the ground, hastily taking out some papers and scribbling something on them. After that, he quickly ran out the room without saying a word and left the girl awkwardly standing there on her own.

Maybe she should sit.

No chairs.

She sighed, looking around, although it wasn’t much to look at. There was, however, a paper stuck to the wall, which looked like it might be the setlist for the show.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

Headfirst for Halos

Vampires Will Never Hurt You

Honey, This Mirror Isn’t Big Enough for the Two of Us

Skylines and Turnstiles

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville

“Cool titles,” Raven murmured to herself.

“Thanks,” she heard a voice behind her.

Startled, she turned to see Gerard standing in the doorframe, looking at her with a slight smile on his lips.

“Your band’s name is My Chemical Romance?”

He nodded.

“It’s… a cool name,” she said awkwardly, unknowingly repeating his words from earlier.

“Thanks. My brother came up with it.”

“Your brother is in the band?”

Gerard nodded, “You can meet the guys after, if you want.”

She didn’t answer. Hazel eyes were burning her once again.

“Anyway, let’s go. There is a show awaiting.” His eyes drifted off her face and he waited for her to exit the room, following right behind.

***

The show was…

Unexpectedly amazing, actually.

Raven loved it.

Which was a surprise – it’s been years since she had genuinely enjoyed a live performance of a band she didn’t know. She loved music, but her taste was somewhat weird in the sense that seldom did she find unknown artists of interest to her.

Usually, she would have left after the second song or something, but tonight found her swaying in the rhythm of the dark-ish, punk-ish melodies, the harsh, raspy, yet at times surprisingly beautiful and clean vocal lines caressing her in the haze of the crowded tiny space. A glass of gin in one hand, the other tucked deep in her jacket pocket, she was far warmer and careless than she had been in a while. She loved My Chemical Romance, and their performance was something she couldn’t take her eyes of. Especially the singer (Gerard!, Raven reminded herself), who was just unrecognizable up there.

Wild, raw, his voice carved… freedom, surely, but at the same time something more, an agony that his cat-like eyes burned with, the kind of pain that few people could recognize.

As the very last bit of the last song played, however, Raven was sure she was one of those few. And that made her nauseous, so much, in fact, that she had to go. She felt the urge to escape that place that was suddenly smothering her, run away immediately. She just couldn’t stand it.

“I have to go,” she mumbled to nobody in particular, leaving her glass on a random table on the way out.

And then she ran, the words of the song still echoing in her ears.

And there’s no room in this Hell, there’s no room in the next

But does anyone notice there’s a corpse in this bed?

Find this on:

Quotev

AO3

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2023-07-03

There's situations but I'm handling it and everything will be fine

Listening: Missed the latest song from We Kill Cowboys, Pink Codeine. I love We Kill Cowboys but they do most of their music live and release albums almost never, and even when I still lived in South Africa they mostly play around Cape Town, so I have not heard much of their new shit barring what lands up online.

They changed labels to Mongrel Records recently. Mongrel handles a lot of the heavy rock stuff around ZA, some good bands including Acid Magus, Springbok Nude Girls, All This For Nothing, and Ruff Majik.

Reading: Kaiju Preservation Society, sci-fi fluff from Scalzi. A guy down on his luck during The COVID gets recruited to go along as grunt labour on a scientific expedition to parallel universe Greenland, where there are giant kaiju roaming around in tropical forest.

Very loose spec bio that is nonetheless fun to read about, Kaiju are giant nuclear-powered walking biomes covered in various parasites, commensalists, and mutualists that scour the nearby area for food and give some to the Kaiju in exchange for mobility and protection. Like if mycorhizzal fungi were wolves.

At its best it is a light workplace comedy on a research base, and a moderate action romp. There is a story but it's not anything special. It is fun that our Protagonist has a literature masters and is there mostly to move heavy objects. I enjoy the feeling behind scientific expedition living and I'm still a little bitter about not getting on the Antarctic expedition so I enjoy reading stories about similar environments.

Very much "I wrote this in COVID when all I could think about was COVID and I wanted to imagine a guy for whom pretty much everything goes okay." I enjoyed it enough, with modern sci-fi style snark and snappy one liners.

Watching: Nothing, fell behind on the Fast and Furious watch because it's hard to write about #4, since it's just #1 again.

Also assembling a bunch of Ikea furniture, I have a home office desk now and more than the bare minimum space to stash clothing. In a month or two I'll also have a desktop computer, but that's future me problems.

Making: Made bread as part of what will hopefully be an ongoing project to improve my breadmaking. I can almost always make something vaguely serviceable but it's always pretty random whether I can get bread to behave the way I want it to.

Playing: Also very little, did another bonus level or two in Terra Nil. The challenges are much more interesting in the bonus levels, they force you to consider some much longer view tasks like "leave enough low lying soil intact for wetlands" and "manage river access for your cleanup" but still not too challenging on normal mode.

Tools and Equipment: When I was choosing a kettle I insisted on one that had a minimum boil volume of no more than 500ml, the one my parents have has a rated minimum of 800ml which is positively wasteful when I mostly boil a single cup for tea. Anyway the one I got has a 250ml minimum boil which is so good. You can do one cup of tea and drain it basically dry. Winning. Great for my sense of accomplishment.

[thechaseofspades]

How about a director’s cut for My Head Is an Animal? What made you decide to work Of Monsters and Men (and that album, in specific) into the story? How did you first get into them?

🎵 Musical Episode Talk 🎶

Fair warning, I use a *lot* of words to answer this. 900 of them to be approximate. Peek under the cut and scroll at your own risk.

There's a bunch of different angles to this so I'm probably just gonna spit them out variety show style and then maybe have them cross over at the end.

I've danced around this before but I'll just out and say it, Violet is kind of loosely based on me. Not in a Literally Me ™️ self-insert way, but I give her some traits and characteristics that I have in real life. As much as I like her, I feel like the show kinda left her blank, especially compared to how much development Lena and Webby got. I don't think the stuff I've added feels very out of place on her anyway.

I remember reading a few fics in which characters would come out to each other, and that was pretty neat. At the time I was way less out than I am now, so the only way I could really express that was through fiction. Hence, why I took the aroace Vi headcanon I already had and made a story out of it.

I'm a sucker for character playlists. Whether it's songs that tell their story, or just the kind of music they'd be into, it's the easiest way for me to get a grasp on a character. I actually do this when I write as well. Each fic has its own "soundtrack", except Dream(s) because of how short it was.

OMAM had their big hit in 2012 with "Little Talks", which has kinda lingered around ever since. I've gone through phases of loving it and forgetting it even exists over the past ten years, although it's probably never leaving my head anymore.

I pick up a lot of music from soundtracks and playlists. I'm not a big discography guy. The easiest way to get me to like a song is to attach it to something else I like (hence why character playlists do it for me). In this case, OMAM appeared in the NHL 20 soundtrack ("Alligator". Recommend it), which brought them back into my brain around 2020-21.

There was a social media post I saw while I was still getting accustomed to the whole aroace thing, which asked for songs that fit the community. Kinda similar to the aro vibes post that went around about a week ago. One of them was "Love Love Love", which caught my eye because it was OMAM. I gave it a listen, and I would love to tell you that it hit me right away, but it just didn't really. But after a few times over, it started to click. I'm not sure if this is when I listened back to the whole album or if that came later, but this was the catalyst for that.

Whenever I have panic attacks or otherwise just bad times, I listen to Fleetwood Mac. It's my ultimate comfort band. My top 2 tracks are "Rhiannon" and "Dreams", which are pretty much guaranteed to put me in a better mood. That's one of the concepts I gave Violet, as both a justification for the music and a point of conflict.

[Edit: oooh I just remembered I also did this concept in the first ever fic I wrote (unreleased) about Lena having a meltdown and Webby and Vi calming her down with a song! So I guess that makes 3x I've done that trope now]

Back to character playlists. If you remember the post I made recently about the Violet Sabrewing playlist getting wiped from Spotify, that's relevant here. It had songs by The Oh Hellos and The Crane Wives, which really planted the idea in my head that Violet would be into indie folk rock. What else is indie folk rock? OMAM!

I already liked "Little Talks" and loved "LLL", and I dug the indie folk rock vibe, so I figured why not dive into the whole album. Which is funny because I almost never do that. Not a discography guy, like I said.

You still there? Great. Anyway...

When I sat down to write "My Head is an Animal", it was originally going to be about Violet finding the song, kinda like I did. The "Love Love Love" scene was going to be the majority of it. But I felt like it was missing something. I wanted to see Violet go through the process. I wanted to show her struggling, realizing, accepting, etc. I wanted to show the full experience.

Hence, the full album. I had some ideas for where I was ultimately taking the story, but this was the most seat-of-my-pants writing I've ever done. I had the songs playing on loop as I wrote each segment, writing down how it made me feel. How it made her feel. The ups, the downs, everything.

I didn't want to just parachute in during the middle of Violet's process, because that feels like shortcutting it. But I also wanted to give closure as seen in the final cut. In reality, there's still a lot more to figure out for Vi, as there is with anyone, but after putting her through a panic attack or two, I wanted to see her happy.

Hopefully that all made some sort of sense. At the very least, it was worth writing down for my sake. And big thanks for the ask!

[chorusfm]

RobbieTheUsed

This past month I was able to catch up with RobbieTheUsed to discuss everything that went into his upcoming solo album. I also asked him about The Used’s latest B-sides record called Medz, The Used’s plans for celebrating their 25th anniversary as a band next year, what led him to explore this solo project, and what he likes best about pop music. Tomorrow, RobbieTheUsed will be releasing his second single from his solo album, called “The Feels”, and you can pre-save the track here. Thank you so much for your time today. You recently released your first solo single under RobbieTheUsed, called “Just a Little Bit”, along with a cool Claymation video. Can you walk me through the writing and recording process of this new track? Yeah, we got with Feldmann after each writing session, I would just say like a week, and we’d do like seven songs just for fun. This is all just kind of on the side, just for a fun type of thing. But a lot of people are involved with the decision making; a lot of people come up with ideas. My family especially helps me with certain ideas, like the Claymation video was my family’s Idea. So I got with Feldmann, recorded about 24 songs, and then kind of left it up to me and a really cool team of people to kind of help with the ideas for videos and singles and whatnot. That’s awesome! What do you like best about pop music?  I have always loved pop music; I grew up on Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey, and that kind of thing. My favorite thing about pop is just a catchy melody that you can sing along to. Why did you feel the time was right to venture into a solo project at this point?  It was a birthday present for myself, for my 40th birthday.  That’s awesome, and happy belated birthday! The Used recently released a B-sides album called Medz, and it turned out really well. The album features some really strong songs that I’m surprised many of them didn’t make the cut for your last album, Toxic Positivity. Can you explain the reasoning behind having so much creative material that blossomed during your band’s last studio sessions?  Yeah, we go in with Feldmann, and it’s a really cool process. We start in the morning, kind of get a vibe for how everyone’s feeling, have a little therapy session, and that kind of inspires the direction of the song. Get a basic outline of a song and then we get the vocal melody and we try to get the lyrics first and then we kind of build the song around that. So it’s about a song a day usually, and we put out the deluxe version, and it just seems like everyone now just listens to the 10 or 11 for the main record, and then 10 or 11 for the B-sides .  That’s awesome and I think the fans are really appreciating the full picture of what went on through those studio sessions. The Used also collaborated with, like you mentioned, John Feldmann at several stages of your guys career. So what do you like best about working with John?  We’ve known him for 24 years now. He’s like a brother to us. He’s the hardest-working man in the music industry, which is just an inspiration that pushed me even harder. I feel like I gotta be firing on all cylinders and at the top of my game. Kind of a great push and pull between the two of us, and with the five of us. Are there any core lessons that he’s taught you early on in your career, throughout your career, or even at this current stage of your career?  Yeah, I think he has taught us that working on a song should be simple and you shouldn’t think too hard, or you’re just going to get convoluted. Interpretations of what I initially wrote, so yeah, the lessons I’ve learned is to kind of run through, throw things at the wall, see what sticks and move on to make sense.  Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it. So in 2003, The Used released another kind B-sides album called Maybe Memories that also features a piano-based song called ‘Sometimes I Just Go For It.’ Are there any plans to finish that song at any point with The Used or for the solo project?… https://chorus.fm/features/interviews/robbietheused/

[babymetaldoll]

The BAU First online Secret Santa (aka: Rossi vs Zoom)  (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Summary: Rossi might have said too much when he wasn't muted in the BAU online Secret Santa Celebration. And Reid is too embarrassed to face (Y/N) afterward.

Requested: Yes. My boyfriend asked me to write this, and asked for some specific gifts for some team members. (Based on season 7 of Criminal Minds in COVID quarantine).

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader- feat the whole team 

Warnings: None

Word count: 3K

Masterlist 

.

- “Hello?”- Penelope waved at Rossi, but he didn’t reply. She sighed and stared at the camera on her computer, and nearly started jumping and waving. 

- “Rossi!! Hey!”

- “Penelope??”- Rossi screamed, looking at the screen, unable to find the tab with the Zoom video conference on his navigator. He could hear her but couldn’t see her. 

- “Where are you??”

- “Rossi!! I can’t hear you! you are muted!”- Penelope was already frustrated, and it had been only two minutes. 

Rossi had been struggling using Zoom the whole quarantine. Every online meeting for the last couple of months had been filled with “Rossi, you are muted,” “Rossi, we can see you picking your nose,” “Rossi, you aren’t mute, we can hear you fart.” It had been as frustrating as funny for the team. 

- “Hey!”- Prentiss waved at the camera- “Where’s everybody?”

- “We’ve got Rossi trying to find us and unmute his mic”- Emily chuckled and nodded- “And Hotch just logged in… hey!”

- “Hello everybody”- Aaron Hotchner waved, and his son Jack appeared in the back of the room, waving too. 

- “Did you clean your room?”- he asked his son

- “Yes…”- it was clear Jack was lying

- “So if I go upstairs right now, your room is going to be clean, your bed made, and your toys in their place?- Jack stayed still and just smiled. Slowly, he turned around and ran back to his room. 

- “Hey, how did you change your background?”- Emily asked Garcia, who started explaining how to do it. 

- “Henry! what is it?”- JJ logged into the conversation, but her attention was really on her son, who kept crying somewhere near her. 

- “Hello? Hey? can you hear me?”

- “Hey Spence!!”- Prentiss and Garcia said at the same time and chuckled. 

- “Hello! How’s everybody!”- he smiled and stared at his screen. 

For someone who hated technology, he was pretty comfortable meeting the team online. Maybe because his germaphobic self was glad they didn’t have to go to the BAU if there was a pandemic going on.   

Germs were worse than technology, which was good to know when it came to his phobias. 

- “Baby girl, what are you doing?”- Derek’s voice interrupted Garcia’s class of “How to change backgrounds one on one.” Emily enjoyed her time switching pictures on his background, laughing, while JJ tried to convince Henry to eat his banana. Hotch was reading a case file, not paying attention to anything going on around him. Rossi was lost and muted still, trying to find the right tab in his browser, and Spencer was reading a book, sipping a cup of coffee.  

- “Hey!!”- (Y/N) waved at the screen and stared at the scene. Everyone in the BAU was on their little bubble.  

- “Hello, hey! How are you?”- Spencer closed the book and waved. (Y/N) blushed and waved back. She just stared at him, and all the memories of their last video call came to mind. 

They had literally spent the night together. They started a video call around seven, then cooked dinner. Spencer actually cooked ‘cos (Y/N) gave him an easy cooking lesson online. Both of them ate spaghetti with homemade bolognese sauce. 

They started talking and talking, drinking tea, and coffee, and cocoa, and more tea. They snuggled on their couches and kept on talking, laughing. Somehow they started reading each other their favorite parts of their favorite books. And somehow, they ended up in their beds, drinking one last cup of tea. They were hugging a pillow, wishing they could actually hug each other, but never saying those words. And so they kept talking until they fell asleep. 

(Y/N) had fallen asleep first. Spencer felt he had bored her ‘till she passed out, but the truth was, she had made her best effort to stay awake but failed at four in the morning. She loved talking with Spencer. She loved Spencer, all of him, including all the facts and statistics he would ramble on for hours. 

If only she knew he felt the same. He could hear her ramble about books and albums she loved. He didn’t know half the bands she talked about but always googled them after their conversations to understand her a little bit better. And to add facts to their next talk. 

.

- “Rossi! Rossi! unmute your mic”- Aaron repeated for the hundredth time during the call, but Rossi still had no idea what he was doing. 

- “Ok, ok, don’t touch anything, I’m hacking into your computer,”- Garcia simply said, already tired of waiting. It wasn’t the first time she had done it during the latest months. I wouldn’t be the last either. 

- “Hello? can you hear me?”

- “Yes, David”- Aaron nodded and almost smiled- “Hello everybody, I trust you are all having a nice day.”

It was their annual Secret Santa, and for the first time, it was online. They had all made sure to mail their presents earlier enough, and everybody had gotten theirs already. It was December 24th, and though it was still just noon, Rossi enjoyed the first whiskey of the day.  

.

- “I sent you all cookies!!”- Penelope clapped and smiled, staring into the camera- “Did you all get it?”

- “Yes!”- they all answered but (Y/N). 

- “No… I didn’t”

- “What?! But I sent them yesterday! the delivery said you had gotten them,”- Penelope explained, but (Y/N) just shook her head. 

- “Sorry Garcia, I just got my Secret Santa present this week, and that’s it”

- “Someone stole your cookies, pretty girl!”- Derek chuckled and took a bit of one of his- “Your lost, ‘cos they are delicious.” 

- “Great… not only I get to spend Christmas alone, now I have to bake my own cookies.”- she groaned and sighed. 

- “What? Alone?”- JJ was in shock- “What about your family? Family get-togethers are allowed this weekend. It just has to be less than ten people in each house.” 

- “They live in Seattle, and I can’t travel ‘cos I don’t wanna expose my grandparents to any risk, so I decided to spend Christmas alone”- (Y/N) cut the team a short smile. They all wide opened their eyes in shock. Christmas alone was never a good plan. 

- “Me and Jack are going to spend it with his grandfather and aunt. We would be glad to have you over.”- Hotch immediately said, and (Y/N) smiled.

- “Thank you, but that’s ok, it’s just Christmas…”- that really didn’t sound good. 

- “I’m gonna be alone too,”- Spencer texted her ‘cos he didn’t want to say it in front of the team- “Do you wanna spend Christmas with me? I can save you some cookies”. 

(Y/N) chuckled as she read, and Spencer smiled, staring at her. You don’t usually get to see the reaction of the person you text. And he loved it. 

- “Why are you going to be alone?”- she wrote back

- “Same as you, I don’t wanna expose my mom, and she is all the family I’ve got. She’ll spend Christmas with aunt Ethel”. 

- “Hey! (Y/N), are you listening?”- Penelope waved and nearly yelled. 

- “Sorry, what?”- (Y/N) left the phone aside and tried to focus on the team. 

- “JJ was saying you are also welcome to spend it with her mom, Henry, and Will.”

- “Thank you guys, but… I think I’ll be ok.” 

She blushed at those words and made her best not to look at Spencer as she smiled. Which was incredibly useless, ‘cos no one knew where Spencer’s image was on her screen. And at the same time, it was so easy for the team to profile what was going on. That’s why neither of them said another word.

- “Ok, can we start opening presents now?”- Prentiss asked. Her background was now a beach, and she had put on a big hat and sunglasses. Penelope and JJ laughed at her so loud that they didn’t listen when Aaron said they should make a distant toast. 

- “Wait! let me get something to drink!”- (Y/N) stood up quickly and poured herself a cup of tea. 

- “Ok, now I’m ready, sorry”- and when she looked at the screen, Spencer was blushing, and everybody was chuckling. 

- “What did I miss?”

- “Nothing pretty girl”- Derek just smiled- “Let’s do the presents thing… who wants to start?”

- “Henry is pretty restless today, so if you guys don’t mind, I want to start”- JJ waved and showed everybody her present. 

“You have to guess who gave you your present,”- Emily explained and sipped her cup of coffee. 

- “Alright… let’s see… I got this envelope from my Secret Santa and… it’s just what I needed!!”- JJ smiled and nearly jumped on her seat

- “It’s a whole spa day!! Mom needs a day off when this pandemic ends!! thank you, Secret Santa!!” 

- “Who do you think gave you that?”- Penelope asked, and JJ looked at each one of her teammates on the screen.

- I’m gonna go with… Hotch, ‘cos I think he understands exactly what’s like being a parent in quarantine- Aaron chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Sorry, I would have given you that, though, but it wasn’t me.”

- “Then who?”- Rossi raised his hand and smiled

- “I noticed you were a little… stressed last time we talked. I thought maybe when this whole thing ends, you would enjoy a day to treat yourself.”

- “Thank you so much, Rossi. I really appreciate it!!”

 .  

The whole team continued opening their presents and laughed, trying to guess who was their Secret Santa. Hotch got a horrible (and yet adorable) Christmas sweater with a gigantic Rudolph on it and a matching one for Jack. He guessed right away it was from Penelope. 

Hotch bought García a fantastic pair of high heels and confessed he had picked them himself. Aaron Hotchner had a pretty good fashion sense. Who knew? 

Rossi opened his present and laughed, shocked. It was one costly and hard to find Scotch bottle. He thought it was from Emily, but no, it was from (Y/N). 

- “I remembered you said it was your favorite, and I thought maybe you’d like to share it with us next time we have a real get-together in your house.”

- “It’s very nice and naive of you to think I might actually share this present with anyone”- Rossi smiled and waved at the screen- “Thank you, kid.”

Emily got a weekend in Vegas from JJ to make it up for the “Sin to Win” weekend she lost because of a case a few months before. And again, she refused to explain to the team what “Sin to Win” meant. 

Morgan got a life provision of baby oil to rub on his six pack and biceps each time he took his shirt off. It was a joke from Emily, and Rossi nearly had a heart attack laughing at it. Penelope wanted a demonstration, but Derek promised a private show. Prentiss also got him a new kit of tools for home repairs, which always came in handy for him… mostly to fix all the doors he kicked. 

- “And what did you get, Spence?”- JJ asked, now holding Henry in her arms, trying to keep him calm. Reid opened his present and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile though, it was a “are you fucking kidding me?” smile.   

- “Dating for Dummies”- he said and showed the book- “And I’m pretty sure this is from Morgan.”

- “As soon as this quarantine ends, you and I are going to a club, so you better study that book, ‘cos I’m gonna make you put it on good use.”

Morgan joked, but after all those years, it just wasn’t funny anymore, not for Spencer, at least. 

- “And last but not least, what did you get (Y/N)?”- Penelope’s eyes were shining. She loved Secret Santa. She had forced Hotch to put on his sweater, and he was now feeling like a dork on camera. Garcia, of course, had taken many screen-captures to save that amazing moment. 

- “Well, I’m pretty sure this is from Spencer���- she smiled, ‘cos he was the only one left. He blushed and waved. 

- “I hope you like it”- (Y/N) unwrapped the present carefully and smiled, surprised. 

- “Where did you get this?”- it was an original edition of The Little Prince, in french. It was tough to find. 

- “You said you loved the book ‘cos your mom read it to you when you were a kid, so… I thought you’d like it.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop going through each page, as a million memories of her childhood came to her mind. Her mother had passed away when she was in high school, and the book meant more to her than anyone could imagine. 

- “Thank you”- she whispered and bit her lip, making her best not to cry. 

- “Jesus Christ! When is he going to tell her he loves her!?”- Rossi nearly yelled. He was in the back of his office, pouring himself a glass of his Secret Santa present. 

The whole team stayed quiet, making their best not to laugh. Spencer wanted to die. He rested his head on the desk and controlled the urge to leave the conversation. 

- “Hey, Rossi… just so you know, you weren’t muted.”- Prentiss managed to say and chuckled. He looked at the screen and stayed quiet. 

- “Ok... I think I’m gonna go now. This Scotch is already getting to my head, so… see you guys!!”- Rossi waved and tried to leave. 

- “Fuck! I hope I didn’t ruin it for the kid. Well, someone had to say it anyway”- he whispered, embarrassed.

- “Rossi, we can still hear you. You didn’t close the conversation, just minimized it”- JJ warned him, and that time, everybody burst out laughing. 

- “Ok, I’m gonna go now…”- Spencer couldn’t even look at (Y/N) anymore. He just waved and closed Zoom. 

- “I’m gonna go too”- (Y/N) whispered- “I hope everybody has a nice holiday!”- she didn’t even wait for anyone to say anything else. She just left the conversation and walked to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. 

What the hell had just happened? 

.

Spencer had a panic attack. What was he supposed to do now? Confess his feelings? Rossi had already done it for him. Should he call (Y/N) and tell her it was just a joke? Tell her the truth? Invite her over for Christmas, again? 

- “Fuck!!”- he shouted and walked to his kitchen. Some whiskey Morgan left last time he visited was still there, and though Reid wasn’t much of a drinker, he needed one. 

He honestly had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn’t face (Y/N) now. How? he would fluster just to be in the same room with her. Rossi really ruined everything. It seemed it was the end of the world. 

- “I’m gonna have to quit, move from DC, change my name, start my life from scratch…” 

Yes, Spencer was making a drama out of the whole situation. But in his defense, he had never been in that kind of situation before. 

.

It was eight pm when Spencer heard a knock on the door. He had been lying on his couch most of the afternoon, trying to read. Still, his mind kept coming back to (Y/N) and the embarrassment he felt after Rossi’s comment.

- “Hi”- (Y/N) whispered as soon as Reid opened the door, and his heart stopped- “You said I could come for Christmas… so…”- he stood still and just nodded. She was there, wearing a Dr. Who mask, with some snowflakes on her coat.  

- “Can I come in?”

- “Sure! I’m sorry, I just…”- Spencer moved from the door and watched her taking off her shoes, leaving a few paper bags on the table, and smiling at him as soon as she removed her mask. 

- “Can I wash my hands?”

- “Of course, the bathroom is…”- Reid stopped himself. She knew where the bathroom was. That wasn’t the first time she was there.    

While she washed her hand, he made his best to clean a little, folded the blanket on his couch, and piled all the books that were lying around. 

- “So… I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”- (Y/N) started apologizing again, but Spencer just shook his head. 

- “No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you to come after… what…”- he couldn’t even mention it.

- “After what Rossi said?”- she turned around and avoided looking at Spencer. She walked to the bags she had brought and started taking things out

 - “Should we worry he was getting drunk so early?”- she simply said, and Reid chuckled

- “I don’t know, maybe… what are you doing?”

- “Well… I’m not into chicken tandoori for Christmas, so I cooked some things.”

- “It smells delicious”- Reid smiled, and so did (Y/N), feeling her cheeks blushing. 

- “It’s mom’s turkey recipe, so it better be good”

- “Let me put that in the fridge”- Reid held the turkey, roasted potatoes, and many other things (Y/N) had cooked and walked to the kitchen. 

- “I also got you this”- (Y/N) giggled and followed Spencer. As soon as he left everything he was carrying, she put a Santa hat with red and white stripes on his head.

- “You look like the cat in the hat”- she joked, and Spencer laughed, feeling like the happiest nerd on earth. 

- “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

- “It is…”- (Y/N) stared at him and sighed, both of them smiling in silence for a second. 

- “Did you get one for yourself too?”- he finally asked.

- “Yes! so we can take dorky pictures and send them to Garcia, she is gonna love those”- she made a pause and bit her lips for a second. 

- “So… do you like Christmas traditions?”- she asked and looked down at her shoes 

- “Mmm, sure… like watching Home Alone drinking hot chocolate?- Spencer asked, thinking he hadn’t really lived many Christmas traditions growing up. However, he knew his mother had made her best to make him happy each holiday. 

- “Yeah… that and… maybe this”

(Y/N) took a mistletoe from her pocket and lifted her arm to place it right on top of their heads. 

Spencer didn’t move. He just wide opened his eyes, staring at (Y/N), who was now smiling, completely blushed. 

- “Since we are spending Christmas together, I thought… we… could…”- but she couldn’t finish talking, ‘cos Spencer leaned in slowly, very slowly until he reached her lips and kissed her. His hands cupped her cheeks carefully, and her arms ended up wrapped around his neck.  

- “Merry Christmas, Spencer”- she whispered, rubbing her lips against his when the kiss ended, but neither of them wanted to move apart.

- “Merry Christmas, (Y/N)” 

.

[maximura]

TXT: LO$ER = LOVER

This group just came from fucking nowhere and destroyed everything I thought I knew about them. I always really enjoyed Runaway but 2021-TXT has been some kind of revelation for me. I haven’t had a song that I wanted to review/write about for months, so here we go. 

1. This song has a fucking chorus. I miss traditional song structures and apart from being solidly written in terms of lyrics and music, it sticks to a traditional formula and does it exceptionally well. I don’t know about you guys but there are only so many beat drop/non-chorus-choruses in KPOP that I can take before sinking into a vacant meaningless void. This song is longer than Somi’s, the same length as Sunmi and TBZ’s and yet it feels infinitely shorter because all the great songs tend to leave us wanting more. 

2. Rock in TXT. I cannot wait to see this song with a live band. With those black Ann Demeulemeester-esque outfits. How many dollars do you want HYBE? Just give me this for another 5 TXT albums and I’ll wipe your criminal record. I promise. 

3. Rap in TXT. If any of you have followed me for awhile, you’ll know that my start in korean music was mostly rap based, so I’m always looking for good rappers and good rap in idol groups. When I say TXT destroyed my expectations, I mean it. I really enjoyed their last album (Freeze) and it was only after my millionth listen that I realised I don’t actually need or miss rap in TXT music. I didn’t even notice there was no dedicated heavy rap. It’s totally a testament to how great their music actually is. I’d say they use rap elements as an accent and not the main event. I appreciate that. 

4. Vocal performance. They’re all great here, Yeonjun especially, but Taehyun really has a phenomenal voice for rock. He gives them a very earnest and raw flavour that you so rarely hear in standard kpop. There’s just so much colour in his voice and delivery, he always stands out. I know a lot of guys are capable of this but not a lot of them really let go and wreck their voice for the studio recording. Respect Taehyun, tinytall legend.

5. The backing track though. The jangling guitars are straight from that early 2000s punkpop era, which was dominated by a lot of skate boys in bands and Blink 182. I’m not sure what HYBE have planned for TXT but right now, their concept is absolutely perfect to me and where I am in life; you know, that strange uncertainty of planning for the future, being stuck in the present because of the pandemic but having the unresolved clouds of the past still hanging around. MCR concept, when though? 

6. This is inspired by Thelma & Louise isn’t it? I know they didn’t go to Utah to film the scene on the highway but they could’ve fake-travelled to anywhere in the world and they went there specifically? The Utah national parks are some of my favourite places on Earth, especially Monument Valley, so the decision to take inspiration from the legendary Queen that is Thelma & Louise? To use a place called MOAB? To mirror the message of the movie with the lyrics? Bitch. Poetic cinematic masterpiece. Take all my money. Are they all reading my tumblr again...

7. That line, “Lover with a $ sign, is a loser”. Who wrote it. Was it Yeonjun. Because I really like that line. Their lyrics have really progressed lately and this one has such a resigned melancholy to it. It’s depressing but in a comforting way. It’s kinda ride and die and I think a lot of us really crave belonging to a pack that gives us that energy. Apart from Thelma & Louise, it reminds me of that line from Brokeback Mountain: “You know friend, this is a goddam bitch of an unsatisfactory situation”. 

8. I’m like. So happy right now. There is just a very very very indescribable euphoria that comes from getting music that really understands you. It’s so rare but it makes it more special when it does happen. 

[dailyhyuna]

HyunA and Dawn Want You To Watch, Not Listen To, Their First Duet Album

K-pop’s favorite couple has finally dropped music as a duo.

One of K-pop‘s very few couples that have openly confirmed their relationship , HyunA and DAWN have become an industry favorite not only for their powerful music, but also for their stylish outfits. Building on experience from their previous groups, 4Minute and Pentagon, the artists joined the music label P NATION — owned by “Gangnam Style” singer PSY — together in 2019 to further their careers as solo musicians.

Six years into their relationship, the duo has finally teamed up to release their first-ever joint mini-album. Titled 1+1=1, the four-track record is led by “PING PONG,” which DAWN first came up with on an intimate beach trip with his girlfriend. The song arrives with a music video boasting vibrant colors and graphics with visual direction by HyunA, followed by the three other numbers that illustrate tales of love.

Stressing that fans should not “listen to” but “watch” their latest release, HyunA and DAWN discuss their anticipated project in our interview. Read a snippet of the conversation below, and head to HYPEBEAST Korea for the full story.

The two of you have been together for six years now. What motivated you to release an album together this year?

D: We’ve always wondered what it would be like to be on stage together and what amazing music we could create together as a team. We just so happened to come up with a song we liked and decided to create an album based on that. Looking back now, we just wanted to produce something that we could remember.

H: Six years can seem like a long period of time to some people but in some ways, it also felt short. To be specific, we decided to produce this album after DAWN wrote “PING PONG” during our trip to the beach. I woke up one day and he told me, “I was going to write my own song but ended up with something for the both of us.” Plus, we knew our fans were looking forward to a duet album. PSY was also a great supporter along this journey.

Releasing music as a couple is not so common in Korea. What were some things that you loved about working together?

D: The best part is that we know each other better than anyone else. Sometimes, HyunA knows me a lot more than even I know myself. We know each other’s strengths so we can trust each other to put out our best.

H: I enjoyed the production process. I learned a lot just from watching DAWN and how he creates music. I grew so much more respect for him as an artist.

Contrarily, what were some things you didn’t enjoy as much while working together?

D: There weren’t really any, but if I had to pick it’s that we have to watch each other suffer when we’re having a difficult time. I stayed by HyunA’s side throughout the process, but it was tough watching her going through her rough moments.

H: It was the same for me. There were times when I wanted to burst out funny dance moves to make DAWN laugh, but there were times I couldn’t do that.

Did you ever come up with a new duo name throughout the process? If not, we’d love to hear some ideas.

H: We actually did have one. Since we both work with the same staff members, when we were preparing for this project, they started referring to us as the “HyunDAWN Team.”

D: I’ve actually thought of one too.

H: Really? What is it?

D: But now that I think about it, I think HyunA & DAWN works best [laughs].

HyunA, what was it like working as the visual director to create all of the eye-catching imagery for this album?

H: A lot of inspiration came from Disney‘s animated films like The Little Mermaid and Moana, in addition to movies such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be the main character in those stories. I wanted to recreate a scene where all of these main characters from different stories come together in one place. For this album specifically, Peter Pan meets Ariel.

Which track do you feel most connected to and why?

D: If I had to choose, I’d go with “Deep Dive.” I believe that a song can be presented at its full potential only when the lyrics and message match well with the artist’s overall vibe and how they deliver it on stage. “Deep Dive” aims to capture the feeling of falling in love, and I think my true emotions were able to really shine through on this track.

H: I love “XOXO” for a different reason. The song is a reinterpretation of the funk genre, and I love how it progresses by blending all of the different sounds together. I enjoyed witnessing our producers tweak the different sounds to achieve a full track.

Any final words for our readers and your fans?

H: I want to stress that “health is wealth.” I haven’t been the healthiest recently, so I was frustrated when I couldn’t give my all in preparing for this album. I want all of you to be happy and joyful. If you’re not happy, be angry about it. If you want to cry, cry. Listen to your heart and take care of yourself.

D: You need to be healthy to love, and love to be healthy. I usually have different things to say, but this time around, I felt that it’s important to be healthy.

H: That’s funny because we certainly don’t look super healthy.

D: All the more reason why we can say such things. I’m sure our fans will understand the importance of health since it’s coming from us.

H: One last thing I’d like to say — “PING PONG” is more of a song that you want to “watch” rather than “listen to.” Please pay attention to our performances, and after 1+1=1, we’ll see you guys again as solo artists!

Source: HYPEBEAST KOREA

[miracleonice87]

Begin Again

a Mathew Barzal song fic

a/n: a one shot based on “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift. obviously I don’t own any of Taylor Swift’s music/lyrics! I’m not even a big Swiftie anymore (edited: lol dying bc I wrote that before she released folklore and evermore and sucked me RIGHT back in) but I love her “Red” album and always listen to it in the fall. also, the NYC traffic/parking/location situation in this is purely fantasy BS, lol.

summary: Mat Barzal meets Hayden Parker (fictional) in a coffee shop, and they start something new.

warnings: swearing. talk of a concussion/migraines/weight loss — otherwise, complete and total fluff.

______

With a deep breath, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror hanging near your front door before you left your Brooklyn apartment. You hadn’t worn these heels for several seasons now — he hadn’t liked it when you wore high heels. You had let his opinions — on your clothes, shoes, music, books, movies, and friends — dictate how you lived for too long. You smirked now, admiring how the pointed-toe snakeskin stilettos looked paired with your raw cut black jeans and silky pink blouse. He would’ve hated this look (“too gaudy,” he would have said), which made you love it that much more.

You popped in one AirPod and flipped the inside lock on your door before pulling it closed. You made your way down the hall as the lyrics started to flow.

There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range

His horse and his cattle are his only companions...

You fought the urge to roll your eyes thinking about your former flame’s constant unwarranted comments about this classic ballad which often wafted through your apartment from the record player in the living room.

“I don’t get this song — like, is he singing to himself?” he would ask. You never bothered to tell him the real background and meaning — you loved the song, and you got it. You always had.

Emerging from the main entrance of your building, you hummed along to melodies from your favorite playlist, and walked the three or so blocks to your destination. Soon, you were stepping in from the bustle of the street to find solace in an only-slightly less busy coffee shop, one you had come to frequent because of its location — sandwiched within the six blocks between your apartment and the fashion magazine where you were interning this semester.

“Hi, one large double shot mocha, please?” you requested, stepping up after the man in front of you paid for his order. You tapped your AirPod to pause your music, just in time to hear: “Nice shoes.”

You lifted your head and glanced toward the pick-up section of the counter, where a classically handsome man in his twenties stood donning a well-tailored navy blue suit. Your heart lurched in your chest as you realized he was looking straight at you.

“Me?” you inquired softly, just to be sure, as you slipped your bank card back into your wallet. He nodded, smiling. “Yes, you. Nice shoes.”

You bit your lip involuntarily, slowly walking his way to wait on your coffee. “Thanks. You’ve got nice style yourself,” you complimented, and you were surprised by your own boldness in that moment. Something about his confidence made you confident, too. And something about his model good looks seemed unsettlingly familiar somehow.

He extended his hand as you took your position next to him. “I’m Mat,” he greeted. You couldn’t help but smile, nearly breathless from his innate charm.

“Hi, Mat,” you replied, engaging his handshake. “I’m Hayden.”

“Hayden. Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Mat mused, holding onto your hand for just a moment longer than was customary. You knew it was silly — God, was it silly — but you felt yourself blush at his flattery.

“Large Americano,” a barista called out. Mat stepped forward, thanking her and stuffing a bill — you couldn’t help but notice that it was a large one — into the tip jar atop the glass pastry display. He turned back to you as he unfastened the lid and blew gently on his coffee. Another thing you couldn’t help but notice — his perfect pink lips.

“So, Hayden, are you a native New Yorker?”

Hmm, you thought. Why isn’t he running for the door after getting his drink? You decided to play along, feeling more daring than you had in ages.

“I am not,” you confessed. “I’m from Maine, actually.”

“Ah, still an East Coast girl,” Mat remarked with a grin. “I’m from the West — near Vancouver.”

You arched your brows. “Wow, Canadian, huh?” Mat chuckled.

“Born and raised. You know what they say, though: opposites attract,” he commented, hazel eyes piercing into you even as he took a cautious sip from his cup. You studied his face — he seemed more familiar with each word he spoke.

“They do say that, don’t they?” you retorted, skirting his inference. Just then, the barista set your mocha on the counter.

“Thank you so much,” you said, also pushing a tip into the jar, thankful that Mat’s attention was on grabbing a cup sleeve from the island nearby instead of on the much smaller bills you had to offer the staff.

You turned toward the island, too, reaching for the cinnamon. Mat offered you a sleeve as if it was second nature, and you graciously accepted, trying to relax the muscles on your face that seemed to have permanently turned upward into a smile since you’d been in the man’s presence.

Suddenly, you gasped.

“Islanders,” you whispered under your breath as Mat watched you stir your cinnamon into your drink. He froze.

“What?” he asked with a nervous laugh, wondering if he had heard you correctly. Your eyes darted around, making sure no one within earshot was paying attention.

“You play for the Islanders. Right?” you asked softly. He nodded, silent, ducking his head a bit; you began to backpedal.

“Oh, God... I didn’t mean - I, uh... I promise I’m not like a hockey fangirl, or anything,” you choked out, cheeks flushed. Your hands started to shake slightly as you replaced the lid on your to-go cup. “I just, uh, my brother. My brother played hockey. He always talked about you, and, uh, I just realized that that’s why I recognized you.” You winced.

“This... this isn’t as weird as it sounds, I swear,” you insisted. “It’s just that, my brother played in the Q. He was good, and, uh, I knew about all the other good hockey players, because of him.”

Mat’s demeanor had quickly changed — from slightly uncomfortable to giddy. He was smirking at you while you sputtered, taking a sort of masochistic pleasure in watching you squirm. His grin was infectious.

“What’s your last name?” he asked when you finally stopped talking. “Parker,” you responded, the two of you stepping away from the island and taking up residence near the front windows of the cafe.

“Parker... Parker,” he repeated. You were distracted by how good your name sounded falling from his tongue. Then, he gasped, too.

“Oh shit, your brother’s Nick Parker? Damn, how’s he doing?”

Your brow quirked as you watched the light flicker on in his eyes when he pieced it together. A National Hockey League star recognized your brother’s name, your name. What the hell was happening?

You cleared your throat, attempting to come back into orbit. “Uh, yeah, he’s good now. He, uh... it was a battle there for a couple years. He had migraines every day for about 16 months... lost a lot of weight. It was... it was tough,” you told him, your voice lowering noticeably. Mat watched you carefully, concern written all over his striking features. It was evident that Mat knew your brother’s story.

Your older brother Nick had been a top 20 prospect in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League as a teen, playing forward for the Halifax Mooseheads. But after a nasty late hit during a playoff game, he had been left with a debilitating concussion and, after a long period of unsuccessful rehab, had been forced to walk away from the game just as he was entering his prime.

Those troubling days hung like a thick, black fog over your family’s history, and you suddenly recalled being 15 again, cross-legged outside Nick’s bedroom door for hours, begging him to let you into the dark room to hold onto him as he cried, both because of the pain and because of the weight of his unrealized dreams. It had taken countless neurologist appointments, physical therapy, and your parents’ unwavering insistence that he regularly see a sports psychologist for him to return to some semblance of normalcy after a long road to recovery.

Now, minus the occasional treatable migraine, Nick was thriving. You beamed at the thought, your well-polished black nail picking at the corner of the cup sleeve on your mocha as you looked back to Mat and continued.

“But he’s finishing law school now, seeing a therapist and keeps himself in great shape, which helps. He’s getting married next summer to this great girl,” you finished, pride swelling in your chest at how far your brother had come. Mat’s eyebrows lifted, his worried expression morphing into elation.

“No shit!” he exclaimed. “Damn, I’m so happy for him. Tell you what, lotta guys wanted nothing to do with him when he was tearing it up. And we were all gutted for him after it happened.” You gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “I’ll have to let him know you said that.” Mat nodded, then pressed on. “Maybe I’ll get the chance to tell him myself one day,” he added brazenly, casually taking another sip.

No response came to your brain, so you curled your fingers around your own cup and took a long draw, eyes darting to the activity outside the window, Mat’s never leaving your unsure face.

The church bells chiming from a nearby steeple were the only thing that could pull Mat’s gaze from you, as he checked his large-face Rolex. He seemed angered by the time staring back at him, and he ran his hand aggressively through his hair as his eyes rolled just slightly.

“Listen, Hayden, I hate to do this,” Mat began with a sigh. “But we’ve got a game in Pittsburgh tomorrow night, and the team plane leaves in like half an hour.”

You’re surprised by how deflated you feel in that instant, casting a downward glance at the shoes Mat had complimented only minutes ago, before you’d started feeling like maybe you’d known him your whole life.

A quiet, “Oh,” was all you could muster, still not meeting his eyes.

His hand then came to rest on your upper arm, and it’s only then that you noticed how big it was, long fingers curling easily around your bicep.

“But hey... I’ll be back late tomorrow night. Whaddya say we grab coffee here the next morning? Wednesday. Maybe 8?”

You turned your eyes upward to take in his face. He looked hopeful. He was hopeful that he’d see you again.

You nodded. “I’d love to, Mat. I’ll meet you here.”

Mat beamed, a relieved breath falling from his lips. “Good,” he commented. “I’ll see you then.” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, leaving you reeling when he pulled away.

“Bye, pretty Hayden,” Mat said with a wink before turning and exiting the coffee shop, walking down the block to the Cadillac he’d just unlocked. He was still in sight when he glanced over his shoulder and threw you another breathtaking grin. You smiled back, frozen in place as you watched him drive away.

_____

Mat was going to be late.

At least, that’s what you had convinced yourself at some point within the last 48 hours.

He was either going to be late or he was going to stand you up altogether. So even though you woke up at 5:30 and initially felt the need to rush through your routine to get down to the coffee shop as quickly as possible, you didn’t. You forced yourself to slow down. Because Mat was going to be late. Or, he wasn’t going to be there at all.

So you were surprised when, after throwing on a red chiffon dress with tiny white flowers and a cognac leather jacket, you walked through the coffee shop door at 8:02 and heard, “Hayden!”

Your head snapped up.

At a corner table in the back of the shop was Mat, dressed in a smart grey sweater and distressed black jeans, a silver chain looped around his neck, standing to wave you over with a broad smile across his face.

He came. And he’d arrived before you did.

You walked over to Mat and he embraced you warmly, the two of you exchanging kisses on the cheek. He squeezed your elbow affectionately as you stepped back from him.

“Oh, here. Let me,” Mat said as he pulled your chair out and motioned for you to sit.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his chivalry catching you by surprise. Once you were seated, he pushed your chair in slightly before taking his place across the table from you.

“I got you a mocha,” he told you, nodding at the cup in front of you. “Double shot, right?”

You nodded. “You’re sweet. Thank you,” you said, the two of you beaming at each other for a moment, lost in a daze.

“So how was the game?” you inquired, pulling you both back to earth. Mat cleared his throat before answering you.

“It was good! We won. It’s usually a tough battle with them but we kinda dominated, which was nice for a change,” he spoke, looking pleased.

“You score?” you asked teasingly as you sipped from your cup.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he told you with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Two goals and an assist.”

Your eyebrows lifted on your forehead. “Mat, that’s amazing! So my brother was right. You are good.”

Mat shook his head, trying to shrug you off.

“Ah, nah. I kinda think it had more to do with a good luck charm I met this week,” he remarked slyly. You licked your bottom lip before biting on it gently. Mat took notice, mirroring your motions as he stared at your lips.

“So, how’s work been this week?” It was Mat’s turn to deflect.

You told him how hectic it had been, with you arriving at the office around 9 and leaving at 6 on the day you’d first met, then departing after 7 yesterday, despite it being only a part-time internship in addition to the five classes you were taking online. He asked about your combination of on-campus and online learning throughout your college career in order to accommodate your dream internships, and he was already in awe of what a hard worker you were.

You pointed out that you weren’t the only one at the table with a crazy schedule, and you asked him how he balanced hockey with his personal life. He answered you easily, launching into stories about his teammates and his family and his friends who all kept him grounded in different ways. There was one name he kept bringing up — Tito. He told you that you’d have to meet him. Before you could hesitate, you said you’d like to. His visage brightened at that answer. He reminded you of sunshine.

He continued to regale you with a vast array of stories, stopping often to ask you questions and invite you to tell him stories of your own. It took a bit of time, but soon you were opening up about your own life — your parents’ recent and shocking divorce after 30 years of marriage, and your struggle with your grandmother’s death last fall.

It wasn’t all dark, though. In fact, most of it wasn’t. You also told him about the crazy theater actor roommate you’d had when you first moved into the city to study fashion at NYU, and how her frightening antics had eventually pushed you into accepting your uncle’s offer to pay for your own apartment in the city, as he was single and childless and had always delighted in spoiling you and your brother. You told him about your only two cousins on your dad’s side, two siblings bracketing you and your brother in age, and how the four of you were more like siblings than cousins. You told a slightly off-color joke at your own expense that most of your friends and coworkers would never laugh at, but it left Mat breathless, throwing his head back with boyish giggles flowing from his mouth like your favorite song. This caught you off-guard — you couldn’t believe he actually seemed to think you were funny. The last one certainly never did.

At some point, the conversation shifted to music. Mat’s jaw dropped when you told him that you own every James Taylor album on vinyl, after he told you that that’s one of his favorite artists of all time. He said he’s never met anyone who has as many James Taylor records as you. You simply shrugged. You explained that you and your mom have seen every tour James Taylor has been on since you were eleven and had started playing guitar. Mat’s eyes went wide — he told you that he dabbles in guitar, too.

After this, you quieted a bit. He noticed. It comes off to him as shyness, but you know what it really is. It’s fear. All at once you realize just how far you’ve let your guard down with this stranger. You’ve only just met this person, yet you have more in common with him than anyone you’ve encountered since moving into the city.

He sensed that something was off, so, in the silence, he reached a hand across the table and took yours in his grasp, stroking the back of it with his thumb. You looked into his mesmerizing eyes, and your hesitance melted.

After several more minutes of easy conversation, you check the time. You need to be at work in ten minutes.

“I’m sorry to be the one to break this up this time,” you started, and Mat sat back, looking understanding though disappointed. “But I’ve gotta get to work. Thankfully, it’s just right down the street.”

“Let me walk you,” Mat quickly insisted. You smirked at him, digging in your purse to find your office key.

“Didn’t you drive here?” you asked, chuckling. He simply shrugged. “Yeah, but if pretty Hayden works just down the street, I might as well walk her to the office and spend a few extra minutes with her,” he told you with a smug grin. You felt your cheeks get hot.

“Sounds good to me,” you admitted quietly. Mat nodded, then rose from his chair, reaching for his wallet to leave another tip.

“Thank you,” you said, putting your hand on his forearm tenderly. “For the coffee. For this.”

He smiled down at you. “You’re welcome,” he replied.

The two of you walked out the cafe door, which Mat pushed open even from behind you. You pointed in the direction of your office building and the two of you fell into step, side by side. Your heart leapt when Mat reaches for your hand. It felt unbelievably natural — which terrified you.

Your recent relationship history flashed through your brain all at once, like a film reel. Your brain screamed, “Slow down!” while your heart whispered, “Relax.” You weren’t sure which to believe. You opened your mouth to bring him up, to give a fair warning, to tell Mat that you might not be ready for... whatever this was.

Then, he started to talk about the movies that his family watches every single Christmas. You weren’t at all sure what had brought that subject to his mind — maybe your earlier questions about his younger sister back in Coquitlam — but you’re grateful for the diversion from your own messy mind. You decided to engage him on that topic instead, rather than bring up your last boyfriend who’d shattered you then walked away.

And for the first time in eight months, you decided to leave what’s past, in the past.

Like a pinball machine, Mat had already bounced to yet another new topic — his practice later this morning. As he finished a story about pranking Tito in the locker room after a skate last week, you bubbled over with giggles. He watched you with admiration and wonder coursing through his entire being. You eventually observed how he was gazing at you, and you sensed that he had something more important to say than his joke on his teammate.

“Hey, so, uh,” Mat started, clearing his throat. Your suspicion had been correct. “What are you doing tomorrow night, after work? We have a home game tomorrow at 7:30 and I, uh, I wanted to see if maybe... you wanted to go? I requested a ticket for you... just in case you want it. If you do... I was thinking maybe we could grab dinner after?”

The sentences Mat spoke seemed to be rolled into one giant question mark. His unwavering self-assurance had seemed to falter slightly for the first time since you’d met him, surprising you. You only needed a moment to consider your answer.

“I’d love to come watch you play,” you told him, wrapping your hands around his upper arm affectionately. You watched him exhale, a smile slowly overtaking his face.

“Thank God,” Mat breathed, making you both burst into hysterics as he leaned his head down to touch yours for a moment.

Bewilderment overcame you as you realized that you hadn’t felt this way about anyone in... you couldn’t even remember how long. You’d thought it might never happen again. That for you, this feeling might just be... gone.

You couldn’t believe that on a Wednesday, in a cafe, you’d watched it begin again.

[buckybeardreams]

Fanfic asks: 1, 13, 21, 28

(yes I'm reading a few of your current works I haven't commented yet because I'm too overwhelmed but v soon, I prommy, I love them very much you're doing great as always, love ya)

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

Fuck, that's hard cuz I love everything that I write for different reasons. My favorite one that I've finished and posted would have to be Manors, cuz I just really love the dynamics and Tony in little girl dresses is just the cutest fucking thing to me.

Out of my current WIPs that have been posted it's a tie between Tempting and Little Stories, cuz they're literally the most self-indulgent shit ever, like they're both basically just an excuse for me to write porn. Yet I also get to explore some things that are really interesting to me that aren't necessarily just straight up porn lol

Like in Little Stories with Tony having so many struggles over being ace, but suddenly finding himself experiencing sexual attraction. Like that fic has allowed me to explore asexuality being on a spectrum and questioning your sexuality and how sexuality is fluid and can change over time, something which is so relatable to me.

Then in Tempting I get to explore this very relatable struggle of being put into a box and then struggling with your wants and desires that don't fit into that box, and we get to touch a little bit on gender later on as well, with Steve being okay with embracing girly things that are commonly associated with Omegas and Bucky rejecting most of those things, cuz he doesn't like being an Omega and would rather have presented as an Alpha.

I have a few chapters planned out that bring up Stuckony's preferences when it comes to gender or gender expression.

There's one where Steve talks to Peter about how gender feels very fluid to him and sometimes he feels more like a boy and other times more like a girl, but mostly he just likes being good and is usually happy to go along with it if his Alphas want to dress him up in pretty things and call him a good girl.

Then there's one where Bucky insists that he's not a girl and doesn't want to wear a dress and Tony says that's fine, but also points out that boys can wear dresses, too, and how he himself sometimes likes things that are associated with girls even tho he's a guy and an Alpha.

And then my fave might be one where Clint and Bucky want to put Steve in a skirt. Steve gets upset with them for teasing him about how he's so girly and Steve tells them he doesn't want to be a girl right now, even tho sometimes he likes it, but he still wants to wear the pretty skirt and Clint says, “Ah, I get it, so right now you want to be a pretty boy, is that right, baby?”

Oh and out of the things I've started but haven't posted yet, I have this series I'm working on called Fantasyland that is basically an excuse for me to write some of my more fucked up ideas/kinks and there's a shit ton of con non-con in it, also I do plan to write both necroplay and knifeplay scenes for it at some point

Don't know if that really answers your question lol, but that's my answer anyway 😂

13. favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

Okay so the song Just My Type by The Vamps made me think of WinterIron the first time I heard it, like I heard it and immediately was like this could be a WinterIron fic.

I want to write a fic based off of it with Tony being hurt after one too many bad experiences with shitty relationships and so he's not ready for a serious relationship, but he loves to flirt and tease and he pulls Bucky in and then gets scared and pushes him away. And Bucky just can't let him go no matter how many times Tony pushes him away and always ends up coming right back the moment that Tony smirks and licks his lips and asks for him to light his cigarette

I have found myself listening to this song on repeat one too many times to admit while writing fics lol

21. most memorable comment/review

Yeah, I'm not even gonna attempt to answer this one, cuz every comment makes me so happy and I've received so much love and support and I'm so grateful for all of it

28. longest fic you read this year

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Kellyscams

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185375

Great fic, highly recommend. It's a sex worker Bucky, Stucky fic, and Bucky is so freaking adorable in it. It's like 300k words and I binge read it in like three days lol

[dreamescapeswriting]

Your Side Of The Bed ~ MYG [Drabble]

↬↬↬Word Count: 1.5K

↬↬↬Genre: Angst? Fluff ending. Drabble

↬↬↬Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader

↬↬↬A/N: Loosely based on the Your side of the bed song. Also I wrote this with a headache and at 2 am because I couldn’t sleep so I’m sorry if it sucks but I wanted to get it out after listening to the song on repeat

You stared down at the space beside you in the bed which was normally occupied by Yoongi but instead there was someone else laying there, the covers covering him while you sat in one of Yoongi's shirts with your knees pulled into your chest. You couldn't sleep while he laid there, it wasn't his space to sleep it was Yoongis and it was always going to be Yoongi's place to sleep. Sliding your legs off the bed you tiptoed down the staircase and into the cupboard under the stairs where you found all the memories you and Yoongi shared together. Flicking through the album you found photographs of you and the boys together, one of the photos sticking out the most. 

"Yoongi! Jungkook I swear to god! Yoongi?!" You called out to your boyfriend for help while Jungkook rushed around the dorms with a cupcake in his mouth as well as six in his arms, 

"What did he do this time?" Yoongi asked grabbing you before you could grab a hold of Jungkook who was smirking as he added a full cupcake into his mouth, 

"Choke on it." You grumbled brushing off the apron and looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend of many months smiling brightly at him as he leant down to give you a kiss. It was Sunday at the dorms which meant while Jin worked on cooking a huge dinner for all eight of you you were working on baking cupcakes for all of you and Jungkook had run off with the prototypes that you were practising your decorating on.  

"You have flour on your head," He brushed it off with his fingers and bent down to kiss you, the moment being captured on film by Jimin who was taking photos for memories. 

You ran your hands over the photo of you and Yoongi and you sighed wondering what the boys were up to, it was 2 am so you knew at least four of them were awake. You debated grabbing your phone to call them but then you remembered that they probably hated you for what happened with Yoongi even though it wasn't huge. You just broke up because he had no time for you anymore, he decided that it was best to give you your freedom even though it wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to be with Yoongi forever but you could tell he meant it when he told you to stay away,

"You alright?" You flinched as you felt a cold hand touch the lower part of your back and you nodded closing the photo album, 

"Couldn't sleep." You whispered looking up at your current boyfriend, all you could see right now was that he wasn't Yoongi. It was all you could ever see at night when you were left alone with your thoughts, he was a great guy but you didn't see a future with him. 

"I'll make us some hot chocolate," You shook your head getting up from the floor of the cupboard, 

"I'm going to go for a walk. Alone. You stay here." You mumbled rushing off to find some leggings and a coat, it was 2 in the morning so you weren't about to go out in the cold in practically nothing. 

"I can come with you-" You slammed the front door before he could speak and headed out into the street, letting the morning air fill your lungs and try to relax you but it wasn't working.

Yoongi downed another shot as Namjoon sat down beside him staring as his friend drank away his feelings,  

"You have to forget about her," Yoongi gave his friend the side-eye and ordered another round of shots for himself, he didn't want to hear the usual speech from Namjoon. The same speech he'd heard six times this week and it wasn't even Friday yet, he'd heard the same speech the moment he broke up with you months ago but it wasn't easy to forget about you. You were everywhere he turned even at the studio, all the songs were about you, all the photographs were still sitting on his desk as if he could ever forget the love of his life.

"You did what you had to do for the sake of the band." Yoongi slammed the shot glass down and got up from the bar, Jungkook walked over ready to give him a pep talk but he didn't want to listen to them anymore. They all acted as though they weren't friends with you at one point and that they hated you but it was far from the truth he knew they loved you just as much as you loved them. 

You were walking past the local bar when someone stumbled out of the doors and right into your arms, you groaned as they put their whole weight on you. 

"Sorry, I'm just-" They stopped speaking and you looked up to see why when you came face to face with Yoongi, you didn't know what to do until he grabbed a hold of your hand and made a run for it you didn't even question it you just ran with him. 

You ran until he stopped in a park leaning down over his knees to catch his breath and at first you thought he was going to vomit and lead him over to a park bench where he stared up at you. 

"You look pretty...You're in my shirt." You nodded as he looked at you and then at the shirt then back up to you, he was sobering up minute by minute the longer he stared up at you. 

"You're plastered." You sighed looking around for a small shop to buy him some water from but he grabbed your face and made you stare back at him, 

"I love you. I will always love you." You heard Namjoon and Jungkook calling his name and you stared at him, 

"Yoongi you-"

"I know I broke things off but I didn't mean any of it." You stared at him and then at Namjoon who slowed down when he saw you sitting with Yoongi, your eyes filled with tears as you realised he was never going to remember anything he was saying to you or what you were going to say to him. 

"I love you too," You kissed his cheek and got up from the bench walking past Namjoon and Jungkook who were both staring at the floor not knowing what to do in this situation. 

"Where were you?" You stared at your boyfriend and then down at the floor where he had been sitting, he was sitting at the bottom of the stairs with the box full of Yoongi's things. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" You asked taking the box and going through it to make sure nothing was missing but the album was gone, 

"That's his, isn't it?!" He asked referring to the shirt you were standing in and you nodded taking the album out of his hand and putting back into the box where it belonged.

"You're not over him?" You stared at the items in the box and felt angered that he'd touched them, 

"Why do you care?" You mumbled taking it back to the cupboard under the stairs and storing it away,

"Because I was starting to fall for you." You scoffed at his comment, 

"You don't even know me, it's been four weeks." He stared at you as you insensitively said what you had just said, 

"You're evil, no wonder he left you." The front door slammed and you locked it going up the stairs to your bedroom to see the empty bed again, there was no way you were going to be able to sleep now so you stripped the sheets off the bed and began working on cleaning the house of the ex you had just gotten rid of if.

The doorbell rang later that morning and you expected it to be your ex but standing there was a sober Yoongi wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, you let him inside and he stared at you. 

"You haven't slept." 

"I don't sleep much without you here." You admitted not holding back this time, he clearly reminded the previous night if he was standing in front of you, he slipped off the shades. 

"I heard you had someone new?" You shook your head going on to explain what happened while making you and Yoongi some coffee it was as if nothing had happened between you. You were curled up next to him on the sofa, your head resting on his shoulder as you told him about life without him. 

"I don't sleep much without you either." He admitted once you'd finished and you stared at him, wanting nothing more than to go up to the bed and curl up next to him and sleep, 

"What if-" You couldn't finish because his lips were on yours, his hands tracing along your hips as he brought you onto his lap in a heated make-out session, 

"You're still in my shirt." He mumbled against your lips and you nodded pulling away and staring deep into your eyes, 

"I love you Yoongi."

"I love you too...Would you take me back?" You nodded, as if it was even a question and he kissed you once again.

Tagline: 

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