#I would be the biggest fan of this man if he were an artist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steddieas-shegoes · 1 month

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Congrats on 3K followers, which you so deserve! My request is because The Hold Steady's song "Stuck Between Stations" is stuck in my head and the lyric is, shockingly, "Tonight it's like he's stuck between stations". Have a wonderful writing weekend!

Thank you so much! I decided to take this super literally and do something a little silly. Hope you enjoy!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The train was late, but what else is new?

Eddie watched the board as the estimated arrival time kept going up. He’d have to text Elliot to let him know he’d be late for their appointment.

At least Elliot was a regular client of his and would understand.

Eventually, only 18 minutes late, the train arrived.

Eddie shoved through the crowd to get on, not even caring if he had to stand sandwiched between sweaty people as long as he got to his shop.

By some miracle, he managed to get the only empty seat left at the back of the car.

And it was next to possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

He was wearing tight jeans and a polo, glasses, a nose ring, and his hair was perfectly mussed. Eddie was such a sucker for the preppy hipster look. It never turned out well for him, but dammit if he didn’t try anyway.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked the guy.

“Nope,” he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

He was furiously typing something, and Eddie was doing his best to not read anything.

But it sure was difficult and Eddie had pretty good eyesight and also never learned manners.

It’s not even that she left me for someone else. She tried to say that my coming out as bi ruined our relationship. Our relationship was ruined way before that! And she knew saying that would make me feel like shit so-

“Am I entertaining you?” The guy said from next to him.

Eddie startled and looked up, right into the warmest brown eyes he’d ever looked into.

“Sorry. It kinda seemed like you were working on a novel. I’m an avid reader.”

The man snorted and put his phone face down on his leg. “I’m Steve. You should at least know my name if you’re gonna know my business.”

“Eddie. I am sorry. Even more sorry your ex was clearly a piece of shit,” Eddie nudged his shoulder with his own.

The train started moving and Eddie glanced up at crowd of people in the car.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. I wanted to settle down, she wanted to travel and focus on her career. Would’ve never worked,” Steve sighed. “Onto the next!”

Eddie snorted. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.”

“Ouch.”

“It was coming for a while,” Steve shrugged. “I feel like I mourned the relationship while I was still in it. Plus, she moved in with her new boyfriend, so it’s only a matter of time before I move in with mine.”

Eddie felt a weird pain in his chest. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Steve smirked at him. “Not yet.”

The train slowed and then came to a stop. The usual announcement for the next station didn’t start. Instead, an announcement let them know they were experiencing a short delay.

Eddie groaned and let his head hit the window next to him.

“I’m sure my shoulder is more comfortable than the window.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s suggestion.

Steve was blushing, looking down at his phone like he hadn’t even spoken. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Eddie imagined it.

“If you want. The last short delay took 25 minutes,” Steve continued, finally looking over at Eddie with a small smile.

“I have to let my client know I’m gonna be even later,” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket to send another text. It may not go through underground, but at least he could say he tried.

“Client? Are you a therapist?”

“Close. Tattoo artist,” Eddie finished up the text and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, my friend Will is a tattoo artist! He keeps telling me to get something, but I’m not the biggest fan of needles.” Steve looked apologetic. “I’m worried I’d pass out.”

Eddie was already planning exactly what he’d tattoo on Steve’s body.

“You’d be surprised how many people I tattoo who don’t like needles. Is it a pain thing or just the needles in general?”

“Both? I guess?” Steve was slowly leaning closer to Eddie’s side.

“Well, the pain is easy. I have a numbing cream I recommend to first timers or people getting something done in an especially sensitive spot that works great.” Eddie let his arm rest across the back of the seat, skin brushing against Steve’s back. “The other part is a little harder, but usually I go the old school distractions method.”

“Like a toddler with a shot?” Steve laughed.

“Exactly! I play music they like or put on a show they wanna watch. Sometimes we just talk the whole time. Sometimes they prefer to just close their eyes and pretend they’re somewhere else. Everyone’s different.”

Eddie watched Steve soak in that information. He technically didn’t take walk-ins anymore except for special events, but he’d be willing to have Steve in his chair right after Elliot’s appointment. He’d stay late. He’d do it for free if it meant having his hands on Steve’s skin.

“Have you ever had someone leave before it’s done?”

“Twice,” Eddie nodded. “Once was a drunk guy who insisted he was sober enough to do the tattoo and halfway through, he threw up and then just walked out. Don’t know if he ever bothered to get it done. The other was a woman who had chosen her ribs as her first tattoo ever. Don’t ever do that, by the way. Not a great start. She quit on the second word of the lyrics she was getting.”

Steve snorted. “What were the lyrics?”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t remember. I’m sure she regrets even trying all the time.”

Steve laughed again and leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie let his arm wrap around Steve’s shoulder and squeeze.

“So? You gonna get one? Did I convince you?” Eddie said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin this moment between them, stuck between stations for the foreseeable future.

“Hm. I’ll consider it. Do you have room on your books for me?” Steve turned his face into Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can make room for you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart already? What a sweet talker you are,” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“I read people pretty well and you are a sweetheart. No doubt about it.”

Steve groaned. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all.”

Something in Eddie’s voice must have sounded genuine. Steve looked up at him, his face close enough to Eddie’s to feel his breath.

“This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?”

“This. I feel safe here with you. I’m ready to let you give me a tattoo even though I hate needles.”

Eddie’s fingers traced patterns along his upper arm, mindlessly planning out a tattoo already.

“Could give you one right here,” Eddie tapped his bicep. “Something small, dainty linework, a sunflower maybe.”

“A sunflower? Isn’t that kinda feminine?” Steve’s fingers were tracing a pattern on Eddie’s thigh. “Not that I’m against it because of that, it just doesn’t seem to fit me.”

And maybe yeah, if Eddie thought about it, he could see how Steve’s body type was thicker, muscular, closer to jock than city hipster living off of coffee and cigarettes. Flowers might not be the first thing someone would think of when looking at Steve.

But when talking to him, when seeing how soft he got with an arm around him, how he turned into the affection, it was pretty obvious he should be covered in delicate work.

He deserves delicate things, Eddie could already tell.

He wanted to give him that.

He wanted to give him anything.

“Someone as radiant as you needs something that represents that. Anytime you’re ready,” Eddie couldn’t help the kiss he pressed to the top of Steve’s head.

The short delay turned into a long delay, but Steve and Eddie talked the entire time. When they finally got moving, Steve stayed on even though the next station was his stop.

“Think I’d like this tattoo artist to take my tattoo virginity,” Steve smirked at him as the train started moving again.

“As long as you’re okay sitting through my appointment first. Might get boring.”

“Doubt being near you could ever be boring.”

Getting stuck on the train with Steve turned into barely leaving his side for weeks, months, years.

Nothing felt as natural as being with his sunflower.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #drabbles #follower celebration #meet cute

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talkbycolor · 2 months

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monster x mediator headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; mghmgh lo necesito (sexual)

Pairing; "NauseAxe_404" x GN!Reader

CW; weird shit? no bro only him mutilating you / feeling unsafe (cutely) / MONSTER COCK MY FAVORITE / smooching the monster under your bed

404 as delulu king

i need him to have a long tongue, its canon in my head

before you even met, he swore you were a couple, he'll propose to you in a cringe-y way if you decide to stay in the room for more than five minutes

He will cut off your arms and legs as long as you don't escape, but don't worry, he will take good care of you and will look for other ways so you can continue writing

if you stay in the room, you can sleep in his bed, he will sleep under it (we all know he will get up while you sleep to hug you)

you can't talk to another human or monster anymore, you were supposed to be together forever, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET CLOSE TO SOMEONE ELSE, IF THEY SEE YOU THEY WILL LOVE YOU AND HE DON'T WANT THAT

the walls of his room are full of drawings of you and him, photos too since his artistic skills cannot portray your beauty very well and to be honest, neither can the cameras but he loves to see you wherever he turns his gaze

no matter how scared or angry you look, in his eyes, you would never do anything wrong, it is impossible for his superstar to make a mistake in any way, all your writings are perfect, your voice, your body, your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your hair, everything

he's basically a dog, he can't help but gasp with excitement when he sees you, rubbing his crotch against you, drooling in your face even if you complain, he's not going to stop

"you bruise so beautifully", imperfections do not exist, he may be fucking you until he tears you but his look of love will not disappear, on the contrary, he will fall in love with your whimpers, with how you scream in such an adorable way

on the contrary, if you seem bored, he will ask you to hit him, take off his pants, cover him with bruises, all for love (cuarteto referencia)

you are still human, you need to eat, sleep, breathe. WELL FUCK YOU, you won't go anywhere even if it's just to look for food, you can sleep in his bed, you can breathe his air if you have to but don't go DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO

to be honest, you wouldn't be able to stand his pace, he'll fuck you until you vomit, even if you're bleeding, he'll feed you his saliva and your limbs will give in sooner than you think. but don't worry, he will continue loving your corpse

how many opportunities would you have to dress your superstar? He would take the opportunity to get adorable clothes and dress yourself with his own hands, putting slippers on your feet, cute bows in your hair, you don't need underwear, awww, look at you! such a pretty doll

he would never let you touch his axe, i'm sorry my love, but you have to respect his limits in the relationship, if you don't, do you really love him? of course he would never doubt the love you have for him! he just want understanding from you, dear

if you are willing, i also understand you, if they do give you the option to fuck a monster, you just take it but keep in mind that you will not be able to go to the hospital, that night you will know the true meaning of monster cock, it does not fit through your mouth and i highly doubt that it will fit your ass

even though he looks so desperate and willing to do unethical things, your biggest fan is a little shy. if you show him affection or interest, the red on your lips will sync perfectly with the red in his eyes. isn't that romantic?

he's smarter than you think, he probably used his ax quite a bit before you showed up at the hotel. it is a relief that you had never covered the camera of your cell phone or computer while you masturbated, after showering, while sleeping even, and yes, he obviously hacked your electronic devices

idk man, he seems pretty acoustic to me, you and axes as special interests, unstable reactions to changes he cannot control, poor understanding of other people's body language or facial expressions, specific way to organize or have his room

"babe give me a reason not to kill those who look at you" "you can't fuck me if you're in prison"

no es un chico malo, solo quiere ser él mismo

"everyone is so mean to me"

MAN I JUST LOVE HIM MY DELULU KING UEUEUUE

you don't have to say "I can fix him", he himself will tell you "FIX ME" (spoiler: you cant)

he looks cute when he cries, doesnt he?

♡

#yandere visual novel #yandere #yandere x reader #headcanons #nauseaxe 404 #404mxm #monster x mediator

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ladykailitha · 4 months

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Icarus Part 1

Hello! I know there are a few minutes left of the poll, but there is nothing that could happen in the next 15 minutes that is going to change the outcome.

3 to 1 in favor of the main story first. The only reason I asked, was because that story has been finished a long time, but this one is just getting started. But the masses have spoken.

Original prompt here.

Summary: Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys made it big right out of high school. So big that Metallica could open for them. Outselling the biggest bands and artists. They are huge. Then a small little indy metal band called The Fallen comes on the scene. They wear hoods and masks and go by aliases. Eddie (and most of the rest of the metal scene) are dismissive of them. More splash then talent.

Only fans don't thinks so. So when Dustin takes him to one of their concerts Eddie learns two things.

One that they are super talented.

And two, that he knows at least of one the members' of the band's real identity.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing.

But Eddie never dreamed that Corroded would outsell one his favorite bands of all time. Never even crossed his mind to dream about.

But there it was in black and white. Corroded Coffin was the highest grossing band of the year. Metallica was seventh. Fuck they had outsold Taylor Swift for Christ’s sake.

Barely.

But it still counted damn it!

What was a surprise was the number nineteenth best selling band of the year. A band he’d never heard of before. The Fallen. It said the genre was metal in that little italic font.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Yeah, it was impossible to listen to every up and coming metal band. But if they had already hit this big with only their second album, surely Eddie would have heard them on the radio.

Only on their last tour Chrissy Cunningham, their beautiful and amazing manager had put an embargo on the radio because the riffs were finding their way into Eddie’s song writing. So he guessed it made sense that he hadn’t heard of them.

So he called the one person he knew who would have all the details on these guys.

“Dusty!” he greeted when the man picked up. Man. Shit, when did they all get so old?

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted back. “Finally back in town?”

Eddie grinned. “You know it. Dude, you know my tour schedule better than Chrissy does.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Guess who hit the top of the most successful metal bands of the decade?”

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. “That’s so cool! Is the issue out on stands yet or did you get a sneaky peak for having made it to the top of their list?”

Eddie winced. “Sadly the later. But! I can bring it over to show you when I come to hang out.”

“That’s acceptable,” Dustin said. “Steve just got back in town, too. That label he works for sure does like dragging him all over the world.”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah? Where’d they send him this time?”

“Japan if you can believe it,” Dustin huffed. “He basically came home sometime around midnight and just crashed.”

Eddie didn’t know what Steve and Robin did for the studio, no one did. But the general consensus was that they were dogsbodies of some sort. Getting coffees for execs and stars, driving them places. Just stuff they didn’t want to hire out for, they made Robin and Steve do.

“I won’t be waking him up if I come over, will I?” Eddie asked, biting his lip. He had a crush on the other man. A large one. But fame and fortune kept getting in the way of something more.

“Nah,” Dustin assured him. “He woke up about an hour ago. He’s even showered and eaten. He’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

Eddie very much doubted that, but he was going to take it. “Great! This list is insane, man. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Come over for dinner,” Dustin suggested. “We’ll pour over the list over pizza and beer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re old enough for beer now.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dustin said. Eddie could feel the eye roll from here.

****

Eddie was watching Steve in interest.

He was walking around like he was used to being in high heels or something, as he would catch himself on his toes and force his feet down on his heels.

He would jump at Dustin throwing open the door. He kept touching his face and rubbing at his throat.

Robin was constantly pushing tea into his hands to get them settle. When they weren’t cradling the tea mugs, they were all over the place. Not just his face. But his back and stomach, too. Rubbing his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Dude!” Dustin hissed. “What is wrong with you? Japan can’t have been that different from America.”

Steve winced from the sound. “Bud, you are seriously being too loud. I told you that I have a migraine.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Hey do you need me to go? Butthead here said you were fine.”

Steve looked up at Eddie and his expression softened. “I’m fine as long as you aren’t yelling like Dusty Buns, here.”

Eddie chuckled. “I hear that. So how was Japan? When me and the boys went a couple years ago it was so beautiful.”

Steve rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. “I wish I could have seen more of it. It felt like we were running nonstop. At least we aren’t roadies. I don’t think I could do the work they do. They’re the true beating heart of the operation.”

Eddie nodded. “Our last tour we had twelve trucks of roadies and equipment. It was insane.”

Robin grabbed Steve’s cold tea mug and swapped it with a warm one. Steve murmured his thanks. “I’m still not sure if I’m on this time zone yet. And I worry that this fucking migraine may throw me off even further.”

“Is that why Robin is plying you with tea?” Eddie asked. “To keep you awake enough to go bed at the right time?”

Steve nodded, humming contently over the cup of tea. “Nothing caffeinated, not really. Peppermint for the most part, honey lemon, too. She thinks I might be coming down with travelers’ cough.”

Again Steve made an aborted movement toward his face.

“Stop doing that!” Dustin hissed again. “Why do you keep touching your face like that? Did the Tibetan monks curse you or something?”

Robin smacked the back of his head. “That’s China, doofus! And no, no one has been cursed. We had to wear face masks like the surgeons wear for a lot of the trip because there had been a flu outbreak.”

Eddie nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They recommended we wear them too in certain areas, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was that twitchy when we moved to the Australian leg of the tour.”

Dustin eyed Steve warily, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not, but Eddie had backed him up, so Dustin decided to let it go.

For now.

“Where were you touring again?” Steve asked Eddie after taking a long sip from his mug. “South America, wasn’t it?”

“Right in one, big boy,” Eddie enthused. “It was our first time in some of those countries so it was super exciting meeting the people, learning the culture, eating the food. I swear by the end of the tour we had all gained at least ten pounds and that was with us sweating our asses off on stage almost every night.”

Steve winced. “I don’t know how you guys do it, the stage lights we had were merciless.”

“Years and years of practice, Stevie,” Eddie said, “years and years of practice.”

Dustin turned to Eddie. “All right I think I’ve been patient enough, I want to see the top twenty money makers of metal before I vibrate out of my skin.”

Steve laughed and smacked the back of his head. “You know who number one is, why do you care about the other nineteen?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just metal bands, my weird little friend. But out of all the bands.”

He pulled out the magazine and Dustin snatched it out of his hands, careful not to rip it.

Dustin was furiously reading the list and it was clear that he was looking for someone specific.

“Eureka!” he cried. “I knew it! I knew they were outselling other new metal bands.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Who’s that, bud?”

“The Fallen!” he cried. “They are so cool man. They have these on stage personas like Daft Punk and they kick ass on stage. I was so bummed when they didn’t come to Pasadena or anywhere near there when they were doing their US leg of their tour.”

Dustin was going to school at Caltech because as much as he wanted to go to MIT his mom was worried about him being by himself, so he moved out to California to move in with Steve.

He was on campus for housing most of the year, but he came home on the weekends and that put Claudia’s mind at rest.

Steve himself had moved out to California a couple of years before. Robin and him had gotten a job at record company and had to move out there to be closer to the headquarters.

Interestingly, or at least to Dustin, Steve’s friends all found jobs out here, too.

“I saw that one,” Eddie was saying. “But I’d never heard of them are they any good?”

Dustin scoffed. “Are they any good? Holy shit are they good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re a metal band, no offense to Eddie here, but there are only three metal bands on the whole list. Most of them are pop, rap, or country. How good can they be?”

Eddie scoffed and held his hands to his heart. “You wound me!” Then he flopped on the sofa, playing dead.

“That’s what does make them so good, Steve,” Dustin insisted. “Because there are only three metal bands on the list, it means they had to work their asses off twice as hard as the others.”

Eddie popped up. “Yeah, Stevie!” He stuck out his tongue and Steve laughed.

“You got any of the albums?” Steve asked, with a flippant wave of his hand. “If they’re so good, let’s hear them then.”

A shadow crossed over Robin’s face and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #The Fallen

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

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grammys night

not my best but i needed to post something for the grammys, congrats for the wins harry ilysm

gif credits to @chriswevans

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Adrenaline and anxiety ran through Harry's veins as he sat on his table, the night had been excellent for him so far, winning the first award they announced and delivering an outstanding performance that he was very proud of despite all.

However, you knew that his nerves were through the roof before the most important moment of the night was coming up. The Album of the Year category.

You had endless conversations with Harry about how he made an amazing album and he didn't need any awards or nominations to validate that he's a great singer and songwriter, and you were still going to be proud of him no matter what, but he still felt pressured and nervous when it came to award shows as prestigious as the Grammys.

"Baby," you quietly spoke, making him look up at you after spending minutes staring into his clammy hands on his lap, "It's going to be okay," you smiled softly grabbing his hand and caressing his knuckles, "Even if you don't win it, you still owned the night and I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry simply said, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand for a moment, "For being here and for everything, really."

"Oh don't mind me, I only came with you because I knew Taylor Swift was going to be here." you joked, and the small laugh he let out made your own never cool down.

"I love you," he stared right into your eyes, as if you were the only ones in the room, "I know I've said it more times that I can count, but none of this would be possible without you."

"I love you too, baby. More than you can imagine."

And despite not being a fan of PDA, he connected your lips with his in a small kiss, a kiss you knew he needed.

"It's show time." you heard Jeff say when the lights went down again and Trevor Noah came on stage to announce the most important award of the night.

Harry's eyes were fixed on your hands holding his own on your lap, his nerves not allowing him to put his gaze anywhere else.

The fans the recording academy invited to talk about the artists nominated for album of the year stood in a line behind Trevor, and you couldn't help but smile tenderly at the old lady that adored Harry just as much as you did.

"And the Grammy goes to..." Trevor spoke into the mic, and when he opened the card and moved to stand in front of Harry's fan, you knew the award was his,

"It's you, baby!" you whisper-yelled into his ear, and he turned his head to give you a confused look.

"What do you-" and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

He covered his face and shook his head in disbelief, and you could only let small happy tears come out of your eyes.

"Baby! You did it! It's yours!" you said as he stood up in shock and wrapped his arms around you, swaying you for a moment before grabbing your face with both of his hands and placing a firm kiss to your lips, the cameras capturing the moment that you knew would make his fans go insane.

"I love you so much." he pecked your lips one final time before he got on stage with Tyler and Tom.

With his Grammy in hand, Harry stood in front of the mic, "Shit!" he begun, "I mean—shit! Man—um—I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone.” he took a breath, "I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You looked at him in complete awe, you weren't looking at a Harry Styles winning album of the year at the Grammys, you were looking at the love of your life accomplishing one of his biggest dreams.

"I would like to thank my family for always supporting me, my collaborators for creating this record with me," he paused to smile, "And I would love to thank the amazing woman who's here with me tonight, my girlfriend. Thank your being my muse and my biggest supporter, I love you."

And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed an "I love you" back to him, unaware of the cameras catching your reactions.

"This is really, really kind. I'm so grateful. This doesn't happen to people like me very often. Thank you."

After Tyler and Tom took the mic to say their speeches, the three of them were off the stage.

"How do you feel?" he asked you as soon as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

"I'll give you a sappy speech later, right now I just really want to kiss my Grammy winner boyfriend."

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches s @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

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foreludes · 7 months

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Blood on the Side of the Mountain

pairing: young!coriolanus x reader

summary: coriolanus snow, a man known for his charm, his wit, and his passion for power, meets a talented artist in the capitol. she spends most of her days painting portraits for prominent figures and finds herself painting one for none other than coriolanus snow himself. through all the ups and downs, will coriolanus and the artist be able to defy all odds? or is this so-called love merely another version of control and a means to a devastating ending?

word count: 1,806

chapter 1: blood on the side of the mountain

Elitism has always been a terrible thing, but it pays well. At least that's what you told yourself whenever you got hired to paint portraits for the most prominent figures in Panem. It wasn't always easy living in the Capitol, especially when your wages depended on your customers. If someone didn't like your painting, they simply didn't pay. And that's how it had been for years. You painted, people looked at it and then decided if it was good enough. It was an endless cycle of not knowing whether you'd be able to afford rent that week. But, it was better than living in the districts.

It was an early morning when you received a phone call from an unknown individual. At first, it sounded like a prank and you almost hung up. "President Snow is requesting that you paint his portrait," the monotone voice said at the other end of the line. Your heart stopped. President Snow? The most powerful and prominent figure in Panem? You were definitely going to be able to afford rent for a while. "Um y-yeah, I could do that," you stuttered as you shuffled around your small and stuffy apartment for a pen and a piece of paper. "When?" You asked as you finally found what you needed. "Do you have time for this afternoon?" Shit, you thought to yourself. You had other clients, people that needed you. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make some real money, one that you couldn't deny. "Yes, I'll be there." The person at the other end of the line swiftly hung up after giving you details about a specific time, what President Snow wanted for his portrait, and where to enter the President's mansion. You couldn't believe this was real.

Now don't get me wrong, you weren't the biggest fan of President Snow. He had a reputation, one that said he was cunning, cold, and hungry for power. You believed that he cared about the people in the Capitol, but you knew that care didn't go past the boundaries of District One and beyond. At least that's what you were told. One of your friends had been in the academy with him. She had said he was determined and motivated, but heartless behind the eyes. He would do anything to get what he wants.

You gathered your paints, making sure the edges of the pans were clean. You turned to your left and looked at the mess of brushes that were splattered all over your floor. You hastily picked them up, washing them off in a small bowl of water that was sitting on your desk. You didn't usually pay much mind to what your paint set and brushes looked like, but this was the President, someone you wanted to impress.

Rescheduling your afternoon appointments was rough. You figured people were going to be upset. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You had now gathered all your belongings in a medium-sized burlap bag. You had plenty of extra canvas left over that would suit the portrait President Snow was asking for, so you picked one out and began your trip out of your apartment. You closed the door and struggled to lock it behind you. You didn't have the nicest apartment in Capitol, that's for sure. But it was enough. You couldn't really complain either, this was the life of an artist, this was the life you had always wanted.

The President's Mansion was one of the most elegant places you had ever seen. The yard was well maintained, as you expected, but it was like nothing you'd ever seen before. You followed the instructions that you had written down on the notepad that was given to you on the phone and walked towards the entrance. A staff member was waiting at the door for you, it seemed like everyone was always at the right place at the right time. You smiled anxiously and said, "I'm here to paint President Snow's portrait." Fuck, I probably sounded so stupid when I said that. Of course, they know I'm here to do that you thought to yourself as you looked down at the canvas that was shoved between the crease in your arm. "Yes, we've been expecting you," the staff member retorted as she opened the door revealing the inner workings of the magnificent mansion. You stepped inside, feeling out of place. You had been in some nice places before because your job took you there, but nothing like this.

The staff member led you to a room further down the hallway in the mansion. The hallways were dimly lit with tasteful light fixtures, ones that you probably would've picked out yourself if you had a place like this. The woman opened the door and stepped aside, allowing you to enter the room first. "You can set up over there," she said as she gestured towards a chair at the far end of the room. You nodded and began to walk towards the chair that had been set up for you. "President Snow will be in shortly." The door closed loudly, causing you to jump a little bit. You were on edge, this whole experience was nerve-racking. What was President Snow really like? Was he like everyone said he was? Was he going to intimidate you? You placed your bag on the ground, pulled your foldable easel out, and placed it in front of the chair. You began to set everything up.

It had been about ten minutes since the woman who had let you into the mansion had left the room. You were too nervous to sit down, yet too nervous to pace. So you just stood there, waiting for something to happen. About five minutes later, the door opened. A man, a little over six feet tall, with platinum hair entered the room. His eyes, even from across the room were pools of blue that you had probably only seen one other time in your entire life. He walked with confidence, the confidence of a man who had power. You knew this to be, President Snow.

"Are you going to shake my hand?" You hadn't realized you had just been standing there the entire time, staring. The deep voice caused you to refocus as you looked up at the man you had been admiring just moments before. It was hard not to admire such an esteemed individual, especially an attractive one. "Oh yes, my apologies," you said as you reached out your hand it meet his. His. handshake was firm, his hands were soft and warm. "My apologies President Snow," you said once again as your hand left his. "Call me Coriolanus, y/n," he said as he walked across the room to sit down on the couch that was perfectly placed in front of your easel. Coriolanus, you thought to yourself, the name fits perfectly. And he knew your name too, of course he did. He hired you.

You had been painting for some time now and the sun was beginning to set, meaning that the light you had been using for your portrait was no longer pouring in through the windows like it had been before. Pres- Coriolanus had been silent the entire time you had been painting. It was intimidating. He sat still, only blinked when he had to, and never moved a muscle. He was the perfect person to paint. Most people you painted complained about having to stay in one spot for so long, but Coriolanus never did. It seemed like he might be someone who appreciated the arts and knew that in order for you to finish, there couldn't be any obstacles. The last bit of light left the room until all that was left was the light from the light fixtures you had admired before.

"Okay," you said as you dipped your paintbrush into the water bowl you had brought. "We'll have to continue tomorrow when the natural light is back." Coriolanus nodded his head and stretched out his arms. The fabric of his button-down tightened around his muscles as he did so, allowing you to see the curvature of his figure. You stood up and turned around and began to put away your paints when you felt a hand on the small of your back. Your entire body froze at this moment, a shiver running up your spine. "The painting," he said slowly as he looked at the canvas, "it's good." You let out a sigh of relief as his hand removed itself from your back. "It's not finished yet," you said as you stood up to look at the man who was inflicting you with so many emotions. You really never allowed people to see your work before it was done, but who were you to deny the President of Panem that right? "I'll be pleased to see it when it's done," he responded as he began to walk towards the door. "I'll have my staff walk you to the door and I'll see you in the morning." And with that, he exited the room, leaving you with so many thoughts.

After leaving the mansion, you could finally breathe again. It was as though you hadn't breathed the entire time you were painting. This feeling made you exhausted, it made you feel all kinds of things. A part of you was excited to go back in the morning, to analyze the almost mysterious man that was the President.

In the morning, you made your way back to the mansion. It was the same routine as before, but this time with a different staff member. You sat down this time to wait for Coriolanus to come into the room. And when he did, you stood up to greet him. The morning sun cast a beautiful shadow of curly blonde hair across his forehead, his tired eyes meeting yours as he sat down on the couch after the greeting. "There's something about you," he finally said as you began to lay your paints out in front of you. "How do you mean?" You asked raising your eyebrow slightly. "You're quiet, you hold yourself with care, I like that," he responded. You felt a warmness enter your body, a sense of validation. He had complimented you. "Thank you," you said as you sat down on the same chair you had sat in for hours the day before.

After a couple of hours, you were nearly done with the painting. A twinge of sadness entered your body. You liked the time you spent at the mansion. It was more peaceful than your apartment, it felt distinguished, and you liked that. "Would you accompany me to lunch?" Coriolanus suddenly asked as you prepared yourself to take a short break from painting.

Now why would the President ever ask you to lunch?

Hi! This is the first thing I've written in a long time but I was just feeling inspired by the new movie. I'd like to continue this series and make longer chapters, but I wanted to see if anyone was interested in the plot. If so, I'll write a much longer chapter 2. I feel like this chapter is a little bit slow because it's just the beginning of what could be a wild series. If you've gotten this far thank you for reading! Chapter 2, if wanted, will be even better.

Edit: Chapter 2 coming out 12/03/23 thanks for all the support!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #tom blyth #snow x reader #coriolanus x you

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spliffymae · 1 year

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musicproducer!connie…

kio’s notes - some sfw headcanons inspired by this connie fic i read on wp a while back. it was my first connie fic and the start of this connie brain rot. i wish it was still up 🤧 shit was soooo good!

also inspired by @chrollohearttags rockstar!eren series and @privateparty3 rapper!connie

also check this

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

now let me say this,

connie mfn springer had a golden ear!

he could make a song out of anything, truth be told. his abuela used to tell him he was blessed with “god’s gift.” yeah, he had a voice as soothing and smooth as velvet. but put it over a track with a piano medley and some soft beats, oh baby! the man had a voice that made the greek muses swoon.

musicproducer!connie had a couple of his own songs out on streaming platforms. he mostly used spotify and apple music for his official music, and soundcloud for official music or for quick ideas he wanted his followers to hear. he loved singing, but not as much as he loved to create. producing was where connie truly felt he belonged. he couldn’t count the number of times he’s fallen asleep at his desk, drooling on his piano keys because he pulled an all nighter to finish a song because he got a sound stuck in his head and just needed to bring it to life.

(honorable mentions to the times he hears songs not by him and thinks “i can make this better” and just completely changed the entire vibe of the song)

but musicproducer!connie loved sounds. everything and anything had potential to be a song. whether it be the crunching of the fall leaves under his boot, or the bounce of the basketball he dribbled in his backyard court, or even the sound of his car’s indicator—connie found music in any sound.

if you asked musicproducer!connie what he couldn’t live without, he would describe to you in detail his music setup. his laptop, the hard drive with all his songs, his drum pad, his bass guitar, his red beats headphones, the software he uses…he would go on forever!

musicproducer!connie would be the genius behind his friends’ music as well. they would come to him either with a chopped up idea of what they wanted or sometimes come to him empty handed with nothing but a hope. either way, connie would be sitting in his home studio with his friends, working on a song. he loved helping them, so he looked at it as great bonding time too.

musicproducer!connie was also quite big on social media. he had a following of 700k on instagram and over a million listeners across his streaming services. he also had a twitch, where he would post at least twice a week, one of those times being him making instrumentals from scratch with his viewers watching and helping. he loved to interact with his followers. knowing there were people out there who connected with his music on a deep level made him so happy. hell, the first single he dropped he was kicking his feet at all the supportive feedback he was getting.

musicproducer!connie even did shows here and there! they would be house shows, with maybe 1000 people at least. he would sing some of his hits, but would mainly be the dj, working the booth for his friends. he always and only performed with his friends.

honestly, music was everything to connie and then some. it was his passion. it was what made him who he is. but most of all, it was something he always did with you.

yessir! musicproducer!connie would be telling a lie if he said he became the artist he is today on his own. if it weren’t for you, he probably would’ve quit a long time ago, when his sophomore project didn’t receive as much hype/attention as his debut.

you were always his biggest fan, though. you would use your social media following to promote his work, much to connie’s joy. what he loved more than sharing his music was you sharing it, because in turn you would be showcasing the relationship between you and connie to your hundreds of thousands of followers.

like those times he would be sitting on the floor of his living room, creating a song on his laptop. you would be behind him, sitting between the couch and him with the side of your face pressed against his back. he would be in his own world with his headphones on, you would be busy on your phone, and yet connie felt it was one of the best ways to spend time with you.

your glossy lips would be in a faint pout as you recorded yourself, stretching your arm up and out to show connie’s entire back, this tan freckled skin showcasing the tense of his muscles whenever he would reach for his pen to scribble away notes in his notebook.

you would simply post the video to your snapchat, captioning it “1/2 of us is in their creative bag rn”. you would follow up that snap with another short video, this time it being you leaving small kisses along the expanse of connie’s back. because of your gloss the lip prints were visible and you would smile mischievously.

musicproducer!connie loved you. he loved to have you near him. so when he would go on these red carpet events with his friends, you would be at his side, the two of you dressed beautifully as you smiled for the cameras. connie would make it his mission to have you flustered the whole night, giving you soft neck kisses and whispering both sweet and naughty things in your ear while he held you close. like,

“you look so beautiful tonight, i’m so lucky to have you, mi cielita.”

“i can’t wait to take this off of you, baby.. give you the proper attention you deserve.”

“been missing my lil’ songbird so much.” he would just miss the shell of your ear with his teeth, looking down at you with his eyes droopy with lust. “have you missed me, baby?”

“of course, baby. but the show ain’t even start yet.” you said with a squeal, already feeling the blood rush straight to your cheeks. there was no doubt the cameras caught that. if they somehow didn’t, then they sure must’ve captured the lovestruck look connie gave you whenever his eyes would fall on you.

“i can’t help it, mami. just love having you.” he would mumble, giving you the softest of pecks as to not mess up your lipstick.

musicproducer!connie was in deep when it came to you. and if it wasn’t obvious by the way he showered you with physical affection, then it must be from the way he had you as his producer tag, the five second audio starting with you giggling, then in your best ‘smooth r&b’ voice, saying “issa connie springer production.” connie remembers the first project he used that on—a joint lover’s ep onyankopon wanted him on. til this day, how many years later, every time a song from the ep comes on, your cheeks get hot and body all tingly at the flustered feeling that overwhelms you. it was your first time ever being on a record

musicproducer!connie used you for a lot of his songs, it was mainly on the background vocals of different projects he would do. but he also used you as inspiration. he moonlighted as a songwriter, mainly helping other artists with filler lyrics or strengthening what they already have. it would be rare connie was asked to write a song start to finish, but whenever he did, he found he was thinking back to your relationship. both good and bad times, just thinking of you filled him with enough inspiration to create several masterpieces.

yeah, musicproducer!connie loves you. he has what seems to be an endless amount of ways to express his love to you. but if all else fails, he knows his music will do it’s job every. damn. time.

#ﾟ aot╤╤｡ 𖠋 #��🍃spliffymae #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie springer x blackfemreader #connie aot #music producer connie #connie attack on titan #fluff #im most def making this a series

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vintagegeekculture · 5 months

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So even though it's kind of the Marvel line, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby didn't really quite reignite Superheroes, the Flash was around a good bit before. But nothing would have been the same without Marvel breathing new life into the genre. What state do you think comics would have been in if instead of writing the Fantastic Four Stan Lee had quit to go sell used cars? Was it inevitable someone would have paired with Jack to do it? What would comics and pop culture look like now instead?

I'm a Marvel True Believer first and foremost, but I think you're underselling how enormously successful Justice League of America was from 1960-1969. Marvel books, especially Fantastic Four (at the time, the "flagship" Marvel comic of the 1960s) regularly topped the polls as favorites for the serious fans in 60s fanzines like Alter Ego, but they were not top sellers until 1970, when Marvel acquired their own distributor. Prior to that, Marvel published their books through DC, who made sure Marvel's runs were lower. They also limited the amount of books that Marvel could print, which is why books like Tales of Suspense had two characters in them (Captain America and Iron Man shared a book). As soon as Marvel got their own distribution, they pushed DC out of the top selling lists.

Justice League of America was a huge success when it came out, for a reason that may surprise people: nostalgia. Essentially a revival of the 1940s heroes, it was a huge hit because the adult audience bought it.

It's interesting how nostalgia itself as a cultural concept with actual power is a kind of recent phenomenon. Prior to the 1980s, there were huge volumes of books aimed at old people like Hallmark's "Remember When?" books.

I do think the single greatest what-if of the Marvel Age is one you didn't mention: what if Joe Maneely had lived to work on the Marvel Universe?

Whenever Stan Lee was asked who the greatest artist he ever worked with was, his response was unexpected: Joe Maneely, a name that even some serious fans of the Silver Age may find unfamiliar. But Joe Maneely worked with Stan extensively in the 1950s in Marvel's non-superhero comics like Black Knight and Yellow Claw. He was a beautiful artist, a professional who was always punctual, and even more so, he understood and developed the "language" of comics, and had an even better relationship with Stan than Jack Kirby did, who, by all accounts, was a genius artist but was, interpersonally, a difficult, sullen wound collector who had difficulty keeping friendships (as his Captain America co-creator Joe Simon can attest; he and Jack had a "breakup" long before he ever met Stan).

Meanwhile, contrast all those interpersonal problems with the difficult to get along with Kirby, with how Joe Maneely used to draw him and Stan holding hands and walking through the park together and so on.

The downside is that Joe Maneely died at a young age, 1958, in a tragic accident where he fell between railway cars, all 3 years before Fantastic Four. He was the biggest Atlas-era Marvel artist to never work on the Marvel Universe.

A Marvel Universe with Joe Maneely as the major creative force alongside Stan Lee is a change so deep and fundamental I have no idea what it even would look like.

#marvel #dc #silver age #1960

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zillasvilla · 3 months

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Beyond the Lights

III. Good Days

Summary: It’s been a while since anyone has seen Sariah. Two years later she makes a surprises appearance bringing along a little gift for her fans.

Warning; None

Two years later.

Sariah finds herself sitting in front of the dressing room mirror. Several stylists in and out of her face, the shouts of the production crew setting up. It was all overwhelming. She tucks her lower lip between her teeth, looking down at her phone, fingers hovering over the green button.

”Sariah, you're on in fifteen.” The soft knock makes her look towards the door. The director peeked in slowly. She lets out a breath, turning to her stylists. “Can I get a moment?”

All that is left is her and her phone, thumb pressing down on the green call button, placing the phone to her ear. The ringing continues for a few minutes. She goes to hang up until he finally answers.

”Hello.” His voice is raspier than normal. It fills her body with warmth, lip still tucked between her teeth, she watches her reflection in the mirror. She’s quiet for a few minutes. The sound of his breathing calming her nerves. He lets out a sigh of frustration, he got tired of people playing on his phone. Who ever it was , he didn’t care. He would gladly cuss them out.

“Man—.”

”Hi.” She breathes out, cutting him off before he could respond or even hang up. There is a silence on the other end, rattling noises fills her ears, sounds like he was going somewhere quieter. She goes to say something until he speaks, putting a smile on her face.

“The princess has returned.” He jokes.

“No one knows but you.”

Another silence fell over them. She had ten more minutes before making her first appearance since the downfall of Dame’s career. The moment she removed his catalog it was an uproar. Legal battles, court dates, people calling her Fatal Attraction. They were siding with him. She went ghost. No one has heard from her. Although Dame's career didn’t get better, she needed a break.

”You good.” He asks.

“I’m at Jennifer Hudson’s set for the show airing live tonight.” She didn’t know why she called him of all people. She ghosted everyone, but doing back she wanted someone to know. It just happened to be him

“Are you ready?” He knew it was a lot coming back to the public eye. Especially after being in the biggest scandal of all two years ago. He felt honored that she chose to call him.

“I’m nervous.” She had chipped a nail from biting on it. She curses to herself, opting to take the press-ons off. The phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. He hears the slight frustration in her voice.

“About what. Talk to me.”

“Sariah on in five.” The director opens the door, standing there expectantly. Like she was supposed to already be ready and waiting on her cue to go out.

“I’m coming, look I gotta go.” She hangs up, tossing the discarded press-ons in the trash-can, She takes a look at herself in the mirror. Her body relaxes as she lets out a nervous breath. “You got this Sariah.”

Welcome back everyone. This next guest is an amazing artist. She writes, she produces, she sings, dances. She has an ear for perfection. I remember this little girl from when she was five. She is what I would consider a child musical prodigy. Give it up for Soraya Atitui-Dudley.

The crowd reaction was not one she was expecting, she had expected to be boo off or complete silence. Yeah she was at a talk-show. but she ended her career over a cheating scandal. Yet, the wide smiles and loud claps soothed her racing nerves. A nervous smile as she waved to them, while walking up to Jennifer. She radiated warmth as the embrace she pulled her in was that of a mother. So warm and inviting, the hug lasted a few seconds as she whispered in her.

“Welcome home Soraya.” Her first name sounded different now. As if this was a fresh start for her.

The interview felt like she was talking to an old friend, just catching on life, future projects. She knew the harder questions were coming up soon. She had prepared herself for months on the questions may ask. Yet with Jennifer those questions never came, instead the focus was on her and her future as an artist.

I hear you have a surprise video to show everyone.

He makes his way through the crowd of stage hands, finding his way to stand in between the set. He’s out of view of everyone but her. She was breathtaking. The way her curly hair framed her face, the clear frames resting on her nose. A small smile forms on his face when they make eye contact.

Yeah. You know for two years, I worked on this album and if anyone knows me knows I’m a perfectionist when it comes to my music. I express my growth through the music I create, and these two songs took forever to write, but they show my growth as a person, as a woman overcoming these obstacles.

Soraya shifts in her seat, turning to the screen, Jennifer doing the same as the first song played. Jennifer had placed a hand on her knee giving it a comforting squeeze. The love she was receiving was a different feeling. Her eyes trail back to him, standing their arms behind his back as he swayed side to side. His head nodded along to the song. The part she was worried about gained some surprised reactions.

I know that you hear this And you gon' just know that I’m speaking to you Shouldn’t have got so ahead of yourself Now you’re losing your cool I know that you know that I’m right

You admitted that I am the trutth But look you at you now, look at your face Looking sad in the booth Signed off a tape, toured off a tape

Did it alone, and I ain't touched a plate You was my nigga, we could have been great You so far gone, got you thinking you're safe

All said and done, you lost my respect All said and done, you’re the one I regret Now you gon' watch from the crowd Lookin' up like the rest

The song slowly comes to an end. The audience applause caught her off guard. She wasn’t sure if the song would be liked. It was obvious who she was talking about. Yet, she felt the need to not use his name. The beat for the next song had her swaying along, eyes closing almost getting lost in the feeling. He watches her, watching her body react to her own music. The way her fingers moved as if she was playing the piano. His breath hitches as the music cuts out and her voice echoed throughout the set.

Gotta get right Tryna free my mind before the end of the world I don't miss no ex, I don't miss no text I choose not to respond I don't regret, just pretend shit never happened Half of us layin' waste to our youth, it's in the present (Na-na, na-na, na-na, na) Half of us chasin' fountains of youth and it's in the present now

Wow. Soraya, definitely one of my favorites. It’s so good to have you back. I know we can expect more music from you.

Soraya finds herself backstage, after all of the stage crew had left. Jennifer stopped her, to really talk. She holds both hands in her while her thumbs rub over the back of her hands, looking at her with a smile.

”When you called and set this up, I was a little surprised. I was sure you weren’t coming back.”

At times she wanted to, but her love of music wouldn’t let her. The euphoria it gives her has yet to be matched with anything else. It was her first love and she wasn’t going to let anything mess with that.

“Like you once said If you can’t take responsibility, you won’t be able to take control.”

Jennifer squeezes her hand with a smile, noticing a man standing at the end of the hall, hands shyly tucked into his pockets, eyes trained on Soraya. A knowing smirk placed on her face. She leans down pulling her into a another hug, whispering in her ear in the process.

“Where there is darkness, there is light.” She pats her shoulder pulling back. Soraya, confused as she watches her leave; she turns to see him standing there. Inches away from her as her own breath hitches in her throat. His dark brown eyes never left her face. Almost studying her; hoping she didn’t disappear again.

”Soraya huh?” It was the first time he heard her first name. It suited her and wondered why she never used it before.

“I didn’t like it at first.” She tells him. The name reminded her of a time in her life where she didn’t have control. Yet, here she was; using the name to gain back control of her life. She bites her lip a little shy as he towered over her. The way his arms flexed in the tight blue shirt had her clenching thighs together. He reaches out and grabs her hand in his giving her hand a soft squeeze.

“Are you done runnin’ from me?”

”Who’s running?”

His left brow arched in response, questioning if she was really about to play this game with him.

“Soraya.” He says her name so smoothly, enunciating the a at the end of her name. The way he said it had her feeling warm. She wouldn’t tell him that thought. She would never hear the end of it.

”Joshua.” She imitates the way he said her name, almost flirting back with him. A soft chuckle leaving his lips. He looks around the set, seeing as they were the only ones left except for some cleaning crew and security. With her hand still in his, he leads her out of the set.

“Where are you taking me?”

It wasn’t till his car came into view that they were in the parking garage. He takes her to his car, opening the passenger side for her. She looks at the car and at him. “Get in.”

”Why?” She asked. “Where are you taking me?”

Joshua looks at his watch, then back at her. “In the next thirty seconds, a bunch of people will be coming to get in their cars. Get. In.” It wasn’t a demand; more so a gentle reminder, that she was still famous and fans are relentless.

Soraya was tempted to call his bluff until the voices of several people echoed throughout the parking garage. She gets in quickly, letting him close the door. Joshua joins her just as the people came into view. Soraya sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed over her chest. Her things were still inside the studio.

“This can be considered forcible kidnapping.” She tells him.

“Not when you willingly came with me. You could’ve gone back to your dressing room or you know your car.”

She turns to look at him, back pressed against the window. She takes in the way his hair was cut into a fade, slowly getting longer at the nape of his neck. His warm skin glowing beneath the gold Cuban chain he had draped around his neck. A peak of gold shining in his mouth.

“Didn’t give me a chance to.”

He’s finally looking at her. She was feeling small under his hard gaze. He took note of the way she crossed her right leg over the left. A subtle smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“You never answered my question.”

Her face contorts in confusion, as if she didn’t remember what he asked her just ten minutes ago. “What question?” A deep rumble leaves his body, holding back a laugh. She was playing with him and he knew it.

”Don’t play dumb mama. I don’t like repeating myself.” The way he said it could be taken wrong, but there was a playful tone in his voice.

“No one’s running.” She tells him.

He leans forward, resting his arms on the middle console. Their eyes lock on each other as he brings her closer to him. Their lips are inches away from each other. An often occurrence between them. This time there were no distractions.

“Are you done running from the idea of us?”

#jey uso x black!reader #main event jey uso #black tumblr #black oc #fanfic #original character #wwe #jey uso x oc #jeysuso #name change #romance #Spotify

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ashwhowrites · 11 months

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FD part 4

I am very sorry for how long this took to come out. I hope you guys love it and was worth the wait. As always, I love to see your reactions so feel free to tell me what you thought!

Eddie called and called. Leaving voicemail after voicemail. He was panicking, and he had no idea what to do. He knew that if this moment ever came, he'd be screwed. And here he was.

It didn't take long for the media to find out, and Eddie felt it was leaked. And he knew by who.

They were on the cover of every magazine

"Biggest couple in the world called it quits! But why?"

The fanbase was split, some on her side and trashing Eddie's name. Some on his side believed she was the issue, and that's why she was never public about her relationships. Eddie wanted to come clean right away, but Zack refused to let him.

He said letting the fans try to figure it out would bring more attention to them. But Eddie didn't want anyone turning on her, but Zack believed it would impact Eddie's fame. And Zack only cared about Eddie's career.

~~~

He hated that he had no way to get in touch with her. He wanted to apologize over and over. He wanted to find any type of way to fix the mess he got himself into.

Just as Zack hoped, Eddie's name was in every magazine. A week has passed and no one has even seen Y/N. Paparazzi outside her house, just waiting for the second she walks out to capture how she looks in the breakup stage. But she hasn't made a sound. She hasn't been active on social media, everything on her end was silent.

Two weeks and the media was craving her side of things. Her fans begged that she says something about what happened. Her management team wanted her to speak of what happened, clear her name, and end Eddie's career.

She didn't want to end his career. But she was an artist, and artists show their pain through their work. So, she released a song.

She wrote every emotion she felt, sang with all the betrayal on her mind, and sent the record out to the world. She felt happy with the way the song turned out. She didn't care if people liked it or not. She didn't care if Eddie heard it and was upset. She wanted to take back all the power she lost.

He wanted her because of her famous daddy, she took the title and made it her own.

It didn't take long for "famous daddy" to reach the top of the charts and for everyone to talk about it. The media loved the drama. Articles were written about what each lyric meant and the exact way it related to Eddie.

~~~

Zack was on cloud nine, the exact reaction from her that he was hoping for.

Eddie on the other hand was suffering. He hated how different everything was. The song they made together was so in love and happy. All of that disappeared in her new song, and it made his gut turn.

"Perfect! The pop star has released a break-up single, definitely leading to a breakup album. All the songs will be related back to you. That keeps everyone searching your name and keeps everyone connecting things back to you. You know what we have to do now, right?" Zack asked

"Apologize publicly and leave her alone?" Eddie questioned, but he knew that wouldn't be the answer. It would be the right answer, not the one Zack was looking for though.

"No! This is the perfect time to get you in the booth. Writing the break up from your point of you. She called you out, she embarrassed you, and truthfully, outshined you pretty damn well. She has the power to make the media believe what she wants, we need to reverse that."

"That doesn't make any sense! Reverse what? She sang about the truth. She talked about falling in love and having it all be a plan. She talked about being used for her daddy's name. Everything she said was real, you expect me to make it seem like she's lying?" Eddie couldn't stand this man. But he easily found out the truth about what being famous was all about doing anything to get your name ahead.

"Stop with that nonsense. She's a fucking girl singing about how her boyfriend broke her heart! She's releasing the same shit everyone else is. You are the man, you come out and sing about your side, and everyone always believes the man. You write about how she's lying, she's throwing your name in the dirt so she can come out on top. Every boy who has ever been wronged by a girl will love the song. They'll relate to you. It's you versus her, and you are going to win."

"So she can hate me? So all her hard work is easily thrown to the side all because a man said she was making shit up? Do you not hear how fucking ridiculous that sounds? She has had this career for years, she worked hard to keep her reputation real and that's exactly why she hid away from relationships. You want to take that all away from her?"

"Eddie, I am your manager, I don't give a shit about her. I'm hired to make you a star. I got you the contract with her dad, which he can't get out of no matter how much he hates you, I got you at the top, I got your name known. Your constant arguing about everything is really pissing me off. Write the fucking song, record it, and we will release it."

Eddie watched as Zack slammed the door behind him.

He stared at the notebook in front of him. Countless songs were written about her, but none that villainized her. If Eddie ever got the chance to make it up to her, and he wrote the song, it would take any progress he made.

It was his career or hers.

~~~

Y/N knew with the release of a new song would cause even more drama. But she was tired of being played and being hurt. The release of the song was the first thing that made her smile in days. She felt a sense of comfort when people shared her song and their story. For once, she wasn't alone.

Her management dealt with endless calls, begging for interviews. At first, she wanted to say no, not bother to give him any more publicity.

But if he could use her for her name, why can't she suck his name out for her own benefit?

She had a performance set for tomorrow and an interview following. As she sat in her make-up chair, she hated how sad she felt. Almost like preparing to actually sing the song live, reminds her Eddie did truly break her heart. It wasn't a song she made of random characters, it was her and her pain.

"Y/N? Ready?" Her dad came in, a sad smile on his face. She knew he felt bad for her and he hated that he was stuck in a contract with the boy who broke his daughter's heart.

"Yeah," she breathed, standing up as she checked herself in the mirror. Eddie wanted to use her? Fine, she's going to ruin his career.

~~~

"EDDIE! COME HERE!" Zack screamed, turning the volume up on the TV as Y/N began to sing. Eddie felt like his heart froze on the spot. There she was, looking beautiful as ever. Makeup done to perfection and her hair framed her face nicely. Her face looked soft and angelic. Nothing like the bitterness in her tone as she sang with anger and betrayal.

Eddie felt his stomach drop at the guitar she was strumming. The same guitar they wrote their song together on. The guitar used to have pictures of him in the neck, but now broken hearts filled the empty space.

"Been fantasizing and crying, been romanticizing

About all these boys who ain't never gon' like me

I don't know why I thought it would be different this time

Thought you'd be the one, but you're one of those guys

Can only blame myself, I made it up in my mind"

Eddie hated the sad look in her eyes. Hated that she blamed herself for simply liking a boy. Blaming herself for falling for his lies and tricks.

"See! You did Eddie boy! Here she is singing live, broadcast all over the world, singing that she thought you were different. Maybe we'll put you in acting next." Zack snickered. Eddie hated the way Zack had zero empathy for anyone. Y/N never let the fame get to her, she was real and always felt everything she had with every emotion.

"I guess devourin' all the power is all you've ever known

You're sittin' on an empty throne

Do you get off from holdin' me from my potential?

Are you scared that I might bruise your ego?"

This is the first time Eddie allowed himself to listen to the whole song. He was a coward, and he was scared to face her. He was scared of what she felt and how much she hated him.

He wished he could explain that everything he felt with her was real and that he wished he never made the deal with the devil next to him. He didn't want to be alone, and he hated knowing he was at the top from stomping on her. She was suffering at the bottom while he basked in the glory.

"Thinking of good lyrics?" Zack asked, watching as Eddie stared intensely at the screen.

"Yeah. I got the perfect song in mind." Eddie said with a smirk

After her performance, she moved on to the interview. Eddie was curious as to what would be asked and how she would answer.

The interview started relaxed, the interviewer was polite and asked about Y/N's career and upcoming work. Then moved on to the reason for the song.

"Is it true that you and Eddie broke up because he was using you for fame? The fans believe your song paints that picture. Any thoughts on that?"

"Well, I think the title speaks for itself. But yes, we broke up because he was in it for the name. If honesty means telling you the truth, I mean." She laughed at the end, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. The world knew he was a shallow asshole, but he deserved it.

"Were you ever worried about that? Or had suspicions?"

Eddie wanted to shrink in his spot, remembering how desperate he was to lie to her and have her believe him. How he made her sound crazy for thinking he was out for blood.

"Yes, in the very beginning. I am suspicious of everyone and funny enough, he was the one that made me realize that. When we met he said he had no idea who I was, so I believed him. He didn't look at me like he knew who I was, almost like he was trying to see in me, see the color of my soul. So I thought he was different, he gave me a million reasons to believe it. All his reasons were lies."

But they weren't, and Eddie wished he could get her to believe that. But he lost his place to make her believe his words. There was no trust between them anymore and he was to blame for all of that.

~~~

Eddie focused on writing the perfect song, something that would grab everyone's attention and make her curious enough to listen to it. It was the only way he would get her to talk to him.

Eddie recorded the song and sent it out before Zack could stop him. Eddie wanted to write his side, and his side meant admitting his guilt and regret.

The media jumped on immediately, dissecting his lyrics and quoting them on social media. He smiled at some of the reactions, people still hate him but he was happy he got some respect back from her fans.

" HE ADMITTED HE WAS IN LOVE! @Y/Nmusic!!!!"

"HE QUOTED HER. HE WATCHED THE INTERVIEW"

"Why do I forgive white men so easily? This song has me hoping they make up"

The buzz would catch her attention, he knew it would.

~~~

"Find it hard to say I'm sorry

But I'll make it up to you somehow

I guess we lost our focus

And it's killing me that we could go to war like this

But I'm standing here with you just tryna be honest

If honesty means telling you the truth

Well I'm still in love with you"

Y/N hated that she listened to the song. She hated that her eyes stung hearing him say he was in love with her. She wasn't sure if it was another lie to make sure he looked good or not.

Her fans were quoting his song with their comments. Her feed was covered in him and his stupid voice. She felt bitter that everyone was quick to forget all the pain he caused. She needed to remind herself too.

"will you tell me anything I wanna hear to control how you're perceived?"

She hit the post with a small smile. Fans already blowing up her post and putting his name in the comments. He was quick to dm her and she felt scared to open it. She blocked his number so she could avoid his words, knowing she was too weak to stay away.

"Nothing makes up for what I did. I will do anything I can to show you that I want you over any career. I'm sorry and my feelings for you are real. I am in love with you, I was since the start and there were so many times I wanted to tell you the truth and save you from the pain I knew that would come. I've been selfish. It's time I show you that I want you for you."

She felt herself typing before she could stop herself. "Want me? You say that as your manager writes you a big check. A career that would be nothing without me."

"How can I prove this to you? I will leave the label altogether if it proves that I want you way more."

Y/N stared at the message, leaving his text on seen as she shut off her phone. She didn't know what to think. Did she love him? Would his leaving prove anything to her? Could she even believe that he would do it?

Her head snapped up at the sound of her tv-

"Eddie Munson has dropped his management team and label with a tweet:

"I'm picking the girl. Fuck my management and the label"

Tags!

@lolz-0110 @gaysludge @hmcmlfcyy @omgvirtualcupcakecollection-blog @bibieddiesgf @holyheadharpies99 @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudroomblog @emma77645

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson x y/n #famous daddy series #ashwhowrites #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson

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thegeekcloud · 1 month

Text

Boycott Eurovision: Yes or No?

There has been a lot of talk on boycotting Eurovision this year because of the Israeli participation and their qualification to the final. Behind everything of course is the subject of money.

MoroccanOil or however it's spelled is one of the biggest sponsors of the Eurovision Song Contest, not just this year but every year. And guess what country this company is from? You got it. It is therefore logical for audiences to boycott Eurovision by refusing to fund the competition in any way. That includes:

Streaming the competition

Buying merchandise

Attending

Voting

If the EBU is not funded then the profitability of having MoroccanOil as a sponsor (and Israel attending) will drop dramatically.

However.

One must keep in mind a few things:

"The big Five are the biggest sponsors which is why they are automatically qualified to the final". They literally keep 5 countries in the final to entice them to keep paying. IN fairness, this is not as much as you might think but still a substantial amount.

They already banned Russia - a country with an incredibly large amount of people (and therefore potential viewers)

The sponsored money has already been given. This is the money that mostly funds the contest.

The participating countries themselves pay a fee. A fee so big a LOT of Balkan countries can't afford!

Most of the money is used for the incredible staging and other events of the competition.

Boycotting Eurovision now in terms of keeping money away from the EBU doesn't really do much in truth. Go for it if you like. It doesn't hurt. But, watching the contest right now is not really gonna change much. A lot of people are already attending (tickets are like 1000 euro apparently btw).

It doesn't hurt, though it doesn't make much difference either to be completely honest with you. My advice is follow the instructions of your favourite artist. After all, this contest is not just about Israel but about them as well. They've all worked so hard and they've been asked to remove all political messages from their performances which is basically a violation of freedom of speech.

Protesting always helps though it is very hard to do IN the arena.

Voting would help if we were all to vote for one person. We all saw last year how Loreen took the crown from Kaarija even though he had like 1.5 times more public votes. And now, Joost is about to be disqualified (cause apparently he punched an Israeli representative who mocked Joost's dead father???). Not voting would basically mean Israel would win. Why?

Italy is not really a political ally of Israel (an example for that would be apology votes from Germany) yet they gave them 40% in the semi finals vote. 40%!?!?. Israel was not even that high on the trends yet they got 40%. But, at the same time, I do not know many people who watch the semi-finals so those who did are either die hard fans or, if those were protesting, people who explicitly watched for Israel.

The jury will 100% give a lot of votes to Israel. I don't like to say it but their song is EXACTLY the type of song they vote for. Another example might be Greece (they are trying something different from a musical point of view) or France (let's face it that man is an angel). I want to say Switzerland but I would also have said Belgium and look where we are. They SHOULD like Switzerland too. In any case the jury can do SERIOUS DAMAGE (again, why Sweeden won even if tHeY'rE nOt SoRrY tHeY wOn)

Governments can push the jury towards a specific result. We probably know where Belgium's 12 is not gonna go (they cut the broadcast) but this is for example a minister in greece:

IF the competition ends up going to Israel THEN the real boycott will matter cause it can start earlier. Prevention of countries participating for example. People not attending at all.

But the best result would be to prevent that all together. It doesn't help that Joost (Netherlands) did not perform today at the Jury show but his recording was shown.

That's all.

My advice is don't watch or don't watch israel to send a message but vote for either Greece, Italy, Croatia or Switzerland or all of the above. The Netherlands too if they participate cause even though I don't want the contest to go once again there Joost has fucking earned it.

Edit: the goal was for israel not to participate at all (and honestly Azerbaijan shouldn't either) but they did, they are, we're here now so...unless the artists themselves step down....

#eurovision #eurovision 2024 #ebu #esc #esc 2024 #joost klein #marina satti

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ladykailitha · 6 months

Text

The Magic of Christmas Part 2/8

You know how in the first part I told you Steve's experiences were a lot like mine? Well his opinions on alignments in D&D are also mine.

Just the best friends looking out for our boys. They'll come around.

Part 1

***

Eddie came bounding up the stairs to his loft, contract clutched in his hand. He threw open the door to see Chrissy on their sofa munching on leftover Chinese food right out of the box.

“Sir Edward the brave!” she greeted. “How went the meeting with the dragon?”

Eddie tipped over the arm of the couch, landing face first next her, his legs bent at the knee straight in the air.

Chrissy ran her fingers through his hair. “That bad?”

Eddie held up the paper and she took gingerly. She set her food down on the coffee table and began to read the contract.

“Shit, Eddie,” she whispered. “This is insane. He’s basically offering to pay for all your bills for the next six months so you can work on his commission without worry.”

“Aswllasexpnses...” he mumbled into the sofa cushion.

Chrissy’s eyebrows shot up. “All your paint, brushes and canvases?” Eddie nodded. “Is this guy touched in the head? Like more money then sense?”

Eddie brought his knees underneath him like a worm and sat up. “No. He’s really sweet. I looked him up on the way to the meeting. He inherited the business and his money from his dad. The business actually lost money for the first two years he took over because he made the company private again. He bought all the stocks and closed it on the stock market. Then spent those two years doing away with all the shady business shit that his old man had built the business on.”

“An ethical business man?” Chrissy asked skeptically. “Isn’t that like an oxymoron or something?”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess. But seriously he was super sweet and like is my biggest fan. Like unironically.”

She blinked at him. “And he doesn’t want anything...well sexual from you?”

“We joked about that,” Eddie said with a huff of laughter. “But no. He’s just painfully earnest.”

“Oh my god,” she hissed. “You’re already half in love with this guy, aren’t you?”

Eddie blushed. “I’m trying hard not to be. Like really, really trying.”

Chrissy sighed. “You better take it. You know you won’t be able to live with yourself if you turn this down. What’s the subject matter?”

“D&D.”

“Christ!” she spat. “If there was a honey trap designed especially for you, this would be it. Hot guy, because he is, isn’t he?” Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. “Hot guy, rich, willing to pay for everything for six months for you to do a major D&D piece. The only thing that would make it perfect is kids or your NSFW shit.”

Eddie blushed. “It’s not exactly kids. But the painting is for these guys he used to babysit when they were kids and they’ve had these characters since they were fucking twelve.”

Chrissy sighed. “Are you should you’ve never met this guy, because hot damn, Eddie, he’s got you all figured out.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “I think I would remember that face if I had. He is too good to be true, sure. But like you said, there is no way I’m going to get a better offer this year. This lifetime even.”

She grabbed her purse from the side of the couch and dug around for a pen. She pulled it out and handed it to him.

Eddie nodded and signed the contract. There. It was done.

Their next meeting was a bit more formal. As in it was actually on the books instead of Steve trying to get around Robin so she wouldn’t tease him about hiring his favorite artist to paint something for his little nuggets.

Eddie had pulled his chair up to the desk so that he could put his notepad on it. He cracked his knuckles.

“All righty,” he said cheerfully, “whacha got for me, Stevie?”

Out of another leather folio Steve pulled out four pieces of paper and slid them over.

“These aren’t the originals,” he explained. “I got Dustin’s mom who works at the library to make copies while he was in class.”

Eddie picked up the papers and gasped. “Their character sheets! Holy hell, man. These are like the holy grail. Why did Dustin have all four?”

“Lucas has the habit of losing his and Mike tends to forget his at home,” Steve explained, “and Will has never done anything wrong in his life, but they all agreed since they play at Dustin’s house all the character sheets are kept there.”

Eddie laughed. “Fair enough.”

This would make it easier to design the characters. By a lot.

Steve bit his bottom lip. “I have something else that might help you, but I don’t know how you feel about basing your art on other people’s work.”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Steve pulled out another piece of paper, this one showing four characters fighting a beholder. It was good, but not even on the level of Eddie’s earlier work.

“Who did this?” he asked.

“Will,” Steve replied. “But I didn’t want to ask him to do it because it was partly for him, too.”

Eddie nodded. “No, actually this will help.”

Steve lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a big smile. “Knowing what they think their characters look like will help makes sure I don’t fuck it up for them.”

Steve relaxed. “Oh that’s great. I’m so glad. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s shoes with this. I really want everyone to be happy.”

“I will do my best,” Eddie promised. “But you know, I have to ask...why a purple dragon?”

“Oh,” Steve said with a blush. “It’s because they can shapeshift into human-like creatures.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you play D&D, Stevie?”

Steve shook his head. “No, but I like to read the handbooks. They’re interesting. Plus, I like looking at your artwork.”

“All chromatic dragons are chaotic evil, you know?” he said with a smirk.

Steve scoffed. “I always thought that was bullshit. If other sentient beings like elves, dwarves, humans and gnomes can be any alignment then so should dragons.”

Eddie laughed. “Only the handbook says that other than humans each race tends toward neutral, chaotic, or lawful.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Which is also ridiculous. It’s like saying only humans can be of any alignment because they don’t live long enough to be set in their ways. Like a dwarf who had lived for a couple centuries couldn’t be chaotic? Or an elf?”

“You certainly have a lot of opinions for someone who doesn’t play,” Eddie said with a smirk.

Steve flushed. “Dustin is one of those people that will steamroll over top of you if you can’t keep up with the conversation.”

“Ah.”

Eddie knew several players that were like that. Most of them were insufferable know-it-all rules lawyers. He had a feeling that Dustin was like that too.

“He’s their wizard,” Steve said. “Mike is a paladin, Lucas is a ranger, and Will is their rogue.”

Eddie nodded as he shifted through the papers Steve had had given him.

“What’s your favorite color of dragon?” he blurted out.

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “It’s really stupid.”

“Hey.” Eddie kicked the desk and he startled. “No limiting yourself. That includes thinking your favorites are dumb.”

Steve blushed deeply. “Yellow. It’s my favorite color. Plus it’s super rare. Then I found out chromatic dragons are all evil...”

“And suddenly your favorite is considered sus,” Eddie said with a nod of his head.

“Also how are metallic dragons the good ones?” Steve asked. “Like wouldn’t they be the greedy ones?”

Eddie smiled. “How many people told you picking the gold dragon was the same as picking the yellow one?”

Steve’s jaw dropped. He licked his lip slowly and then bit down on it.

“All of them, huh?”

Steve nodded. “It’s ridiculous. But I just don’t think that gold and yellow are the same color.”

“Oh they absolutely aren’t,” Eddie said, his smile growing wider. “And if anyone gives you hell about it send them my direction.”

Steve clasped his fingers together and leaned on his forearms. “That’s something else. They are going to find out that I am meeting with you on reg.”

“So what’s the cover story?” Eddie asked.

Steve ducked his head and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“I was thinking of your charity, Roll for Initiative,” he admitted. “My kids...I can’t keep calling them that, they’re adults. But anyway. Having a large empty house for them to play D&D in when they kept getting kicked out of places to play. First their high school and then Mike’s parents house.”

Steve shrugged.

“But I know they were lucky because they had me. And I know that kids just like them would be kicked out their schools and libraries in the most conservative parts of the country. If they were allowed at all. I want to help you branch out more than just local.”

It was Eddie’s turn for his jaw to drop. “You want to help my charity?”

He had been wanting to take it on a national level, but never had the manpower to do it. And here was Steve offering to do just that.

Steve nodded. “Yeah,” he said with smile. “Just let us handle it. And we can combine meetings to go over the charity and you can show me your progress on the paintings.”

Eddie nodded back. He didn’t have the words. He squeaked his goodbyes and left.

Chrissy was going to freak.

Robin watched the flustered Eddie head to the elevator with more than a passing interest.

She calmly got up and walked into Steve’s office without even a knock or any notice she was coming in.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her.

Robin slid into one the chairs into front of his desk. “You gonna to keep blowing that poor man’s mind or are you going to ease up at some point so that he has the capacity to do this painting of yours?”

“I did my homework when it comes to the guy,” he huffed, “so what?”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “You put less effort into wooing your dates then you did trying to get this painting done. You have to see that’s a problem.”

“Only if you make it one,” Steve groused. “I admire this work.”

She scoffed. “I’ve seen his work. My personal favorite was female elf getting pegged by the female orc barbarian.”

Steve blushed. “Shut up. You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?” she pushed. “This isn’t lord of the manor fucking his live-in artist.”

“I’ve already made that joke,” he sniffed. “He found it funny.”

Robin snorted. “He seems like the kind that would. Only it’s not funny if he hollers sexual harassment.”

He had been facing to the side and he turned his chair to face her directly. “That implies two things. That I’m trying to get into his pants and that he would be against it.”

“It wouldn’t matter if he consented, Steve,” she hissed. “You literally own him. He is a kept man.”

“You can’t have it both ways!” Steve snapped. “Either I’m paying for all of him, including sex or he can’t consent because I’m his boss.”

She threw her arms into the air. “Why are you even doing this?”

He glared at her. “I don’t have ulterior motives. I just wanted to do something nice for the kids. They’re going to be spreading far across the country after they graduate from college. Some to get advanced degrees, others to start their careers. I just want something special that they could take with them to remember everyone by.”

Robin sighed. “Okay. I get it. You’ll miss them, too. I keep forgetting they’re not the little twerps that used to beg for rides.”

“Yeah.”

She reached over the desk and took his hand. He gave hers a squeeze.

“I’m going to miss them something fierce.”

“I know, dingus,” she murmured. “I know.”

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

Note

OMG could you imagine harry or yn on hot ones, I feel like yn would kill it(I’m not sure abt harry)😭

HOT ONES

A/N: this was so fun! ty to the lovies that sent in some questions for this one 💚 (picture credits to harianadimples & harianachile !) (4.6k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Hey, what’s going on everybody. This is First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans, and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. And today we’re joined by the one and only YN YLN. You might have known her as one sixth of the most famous and influential bands in history, One Direction. She’s a triple threat and an 8 time Grammy award-winning singer, song-writer, musician, and producer and we shouldn’t be surprised if she adds a couple more on her shelf with her new album Waiting Room. The no features, no skip album that’s quickly making its way to the top of the charts. YN, welcome to the show.”

“What a fookin’ intro, man,” YN laughs and plants her hands on the circular table. “Thank yeh for having me on here.”

“The pleasure is all mine. It’s an honor to have you on the show. How are we feeling today?”

“M’actually extremely terrified,” She lets out a chuckle, clasping her hands together as her eyes look over the lineup of spicy wings in front of her.

“About the wings or the questions?”

“It’s half and half for sure.”

“So how are you with spicy foods?”

“M’quite alright with them but m’bit frightened by this gorgeous array of hot sauces here. Like—” YN holds up one of the tiny, glass bottles to the camera. “—this one quite literally has a picture of a bomb on it so,” She raises her hands in defense with a shrug of her shoulders. “Take that as you will.”

...

“Mhm,” YN nods as she licks her lips. “S’quite tasty. I like that one.”

“For the record, I did see that you ate the whole wing. Do you plan on continuing that as we go down the line?”

“I don’t waste food, man,” She smirks as she wipes her hands on the red cloth.

“So let’s start off with before you came into the spotlight. It was revealed that you actually didn’t want to continue singing as a profession when you were younger, but your childhood best friend and later on One Direction band member, Louis Tomlinson, made you audition on the XFactor with him. How did this come to be?”

“He tricked me actually. Louis had told me about how he was able to get an audition for the XFactor and I was super excited for him. Getting a chance like this was all he had talked about when we were growing up. On our way to Manchester—which was like an hour or two away from Doncaster—he told me that he got me an audition too and I was gonna sing in front of the biggest audience ever. The little shit."

"But do you think you would have auditioned if it were on your own terms?" Sean inquires.

"Probably not, if m'being honest," YN shakes her head. "And that honestly me skin crawl. M'very grateful for the path that I went on and that my fans have been giving me the opportunity to continue to do what I love for the past 12 years."

...

Once YN bites off of the last piece of her next wing, she shrugs her shoulders, “These wings are really good. This is easy, bro.”

“I’m just trying to keep up with you,” Seam chuckles before finishing off his piece. “Okay, so let me brag for you for a sec.”

“Alright,” YN lets out a nervous chuckle.

“You have 8, count ‘em, 8, Grammys in the 12 years since you became a solo artist and you have another impressive 8 nominations for the Grammys 2023. One of your many wins is being producer of the year—a category you nominated for the second year in a row—which you said in a Rolling Stones article that it was probably the best award out of everything you’ve ever received in your professional career as an artist. Can you give us some insight into how that became such an important staple on your shelf?”

“Wow,” YN huffs out a smile in disbelief. Her nostrils begin to flare and she can feel the tears threatening to escape her eyes. She feels uncharacteristically embarrassed that she’s suddenly overcome with emotions. “Woah, sorry. I don’t know why I was gonna cry for a second there.”

YN looks up with a chuckle, shimmies in her seat, before she gives a single clap. “Okay, m’good. Yeah I mean, for the first couple of years of my career, I fell in love with what it takes to actually make a song, how to layer instruments and vocals, and the details you can initially glaze over when you first listen to a song. But being the only woman in a music studio full of my male band members, producers, sound engineers, and everyone—it took me a while to be confident enough to speak out about making suggestions in the process of making a song.

I learned so much by just watching in me corner of the room, then I was shown bits and pieces from 1D’s production team. And when I went onto me solo career, I was taken under the wings of kickass producers like Kid Harpoon and Tyler Johnson. Being a woman in this industry—capable of making me own music is a huge accomplishment for me as an artist and for all women who want to break out in a male dominated environment.”

“Continuing the brag streak—”

“Oh, no,” YN smiles behind her red napkin. As confident and narcissistic as she can be, she’s never been one to take a compliment—especially the way in which Sean is just throwing them out there like free candy.

“—your first solo world tour sold out in less than 4 minutes, and your current tour sold out in less than two. How was it like to come into a solo tour after touring with the rest of One Direction five years straight?”

“Well to start off, that statistic is absolutely insane,” YN lets out a laugh. “It was such a big change to do this on my own without the boys by my side on stage. I remember doing a final dress rehearsal the day before me first show and while I sat on stage and just looked out at the massive arena I was in, I began to panic. It wasn’t like I hadn’t performed in that big of a room before but I began to think what if they only bought the tickets because they were so used to the boys? Like, what if they didn’t like just me onstage or the fact that I was doing choreographed dance routines and things like that? But that all changed once I was actually on stage performing. I…I’ve never felt that type of love before.”

...

After YN tosses the bone of her next piece of chicken away and as Sean begins his next question, she stares off to the corner of the table for a second and widens her eyes. Out of nowhere, the spice level has officially been kicked up.

“You’ve also made some impressionable fashion choices that have become a staple in not only your own wardrobe but in the closets of your fanbase. From your frilly shirts from your One Direction days to becoming the female face of Gucci. From your signature 7-inch platform heels to your variety of colorful and textured opera gloves. How important is fashion in your life and how you choose to express yourself?”

YN licks her swollen lips, chuckling a bit from the spice is starting to pick up.

“Fashion wasn’t something I was super passionate about growing up. I wore a lot of dark clothing when I was teenager and when I was in the band I began to wear a lot of shirts and pinks and high heels which was a drastic change for me to say the least. I then went into a lot of changes of like—” YN moves her hand fluidly up and down in a roller coaster motion. “—I was angsty to girly girl to frat girl to comfy to leather. And when I went on this solo journey, I was embracing both a new and older side of me with more pinks and heels but putting a sexier twist to it. And now m’all trousers and blazers but m’still very much figuring out me style. All of my different fashion ‘eras’ define a different chapter of me life and I think that’s such a cool thing about fashion. Clothes don’t wear you, you wear the clothes and when you have that in mind, it can give yeh a big sense of confidence.”

YN can’t help the smile tugging on her lips from her memories of being on stage, “And it’s such an indescribable feeling being on stage for tour and just seeing a sea full of the fans in those long gloves.”

“It has officially become one of many infamous YN YLN trademarks,” Sean points out.

“I guess so,” She laughs along with the host.

...

“We have a segment on our show called Explain That Gram where we do a deep dive on your Instagram and pull interesting photos that need more context.”

“Sounds good, man,” YN nods and she reaches for the hot sauce used for this piece of chicken. "This one has like a lemony taste to it. I like it."

"Well, we have this whole set for you to take home today."

"Shut up," Her eyes widen in excitement. "No way, that's very sweet of yeh. Thank yeh so much, I appreciate that."

When Sean pulls up the first picture on his laptop, YN immediately coos at the screen.

“Wow you guys really went far back, didn’t yeh? Yeah so this was at the band’s third tour, I believe. I remember having such a shitty day earlier before the show and to cheer me up, Harry asked if I could braid his hair,” YN giggles at the memory.

She was going through a rough patch with Matthew and they had an argument right before she had to do some interviews for the day and a show later that night. Knowing how to approach her best, Harry knocked on her dressing room door to see a teary eyed YN wiping her cheeks as quickly as she could. He didn’t ask her why she was crying or try to give her comforting words right away. Instead, he repeated his question when she gave him a furrow of her eyebrows and tilt of her head.

For the last 20 minutes before they had to head backstage, Harry sat on the floor in front of the couch in between her legs. As she twisted and weaved his long hair, he kept her laughing with poor jokes and funny vines he saved on his phone.

She didn’t have time to finish the middle section of his head and when she asked him to sit back down to take the braids out, he refused and basked in the warmth of her smile. He went on stage with them on and he never saw the smile leave her face.

“I had been bugging him to let me do it ever since he decided he wanted to grow his hair out and donate it to charity. It was a very sweet thing he did for me.”

“Hehe,” YN giggles happily at the memory this picture holds for her. She sees her 20-year-old self squished in between Harry and Louis, her Ray Bands over her eyes as she smiles brightly at the camera. “So this looks like 2014 1D and if you’ve seen the footage you can tell that we are—” YN hits a higher pitch as she sings her next words, “High as a fookin’ kite. We were in Brazil and we wanted to go out exploring but there was this massive crowd of fans outside our hotel—”

“Oh, don’t touch your eyes!” Sean quickly reminds YN as she goes to wipe at her eyes.

“Ah! ‘Fank you,” She laughs and dabs at her eyes once someone behind the camera hands her a tissue. “Okay, so there were a lot of fans blocking the front of the hotel and we couldn’t have just merely walked out and got to our cars or anything. I can’t remember who suggested it but we ended up getting out through the back of a bread van. We totally went by unnoticed!”

“We’re going in that?” YN points to the back of the white bread van that’s stuffed with pillows. By the tone of her surprised voice, the hotel workers’ eyes widen, their cheeks get red and they can feel the sweat accumulating on their foreheads in fear. They didn’t want to disappoint and anger a member of the most famous band on the planet. Yet their eyes stay wide for a different reason as YN breaks out into a beaming smile. “Sick!”

She grips onto one of the back doors as she swings herself into the tiny space covered in pillows.

Louis gives one of the hotel workers a reassuring smile and a pat on the chest, “Yeh get used to it. Can I come in and cuddle you, Niall?” He teases as everyone begins to squish in together. Ben Winston is the last to come in and close the door beside him. He’s brought a camera with him to record the trip as it’s going to be a part of the many video diaries that YN can’t keep track of.

“I used to be a baker so I love being in the back of the bread van,” Harry notes like he hasn’t brought up his part-time job from his teenage years before.

“Would you give it a rest, mate,” YN groans from her squished position between him and Louis, giving him a playful roll of her eyes before chuckling along with the rest of the boys.

“I quite like it in here,” Zyan smiles happily from his corner of the van. It doesn’t take long before they can hear the hundreds of fans screaming outside the vehicle. Everyone makes a shushing noise to quiet everyone as they pass the masses of fans.

YN already gets anxious when the band has to drive through massive crowds of fans who like to bang on the windows of the Range Rovers. The boys even like to push against the thick glass to counter the weight but that doesn’t stop the anxiety rushing to her chest when it happens.

Her mind starts to race at the thought that if the fans did actually find out that they were in there, they could easily shred the tiny van into pieces.

When Harry sees her chest begin to rise up and down at an increasing weight behind his dark sunnies, he doesn’t think twice about putting a hand over hers that’s gripping the pillow in the space between them. He’s thankful for the dimly lit setting and the way she has her legs bent as it covers their tightly, intertwined hands. She discreetly follows his nonverbal instructions and inhales deeply through her nose to copying how he makes a small ‘O’ with his mouth to exhale.

“Why don’t we make this trip a little more exciting?” Zayn wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls out something from his cargo shorts pockets.

YN pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head and squints at the tiny object between her bandmate’s fingers before she smiles in relief. She watches as Zayn brings up the rolled-up substance to his lips, flicking his thumb on the lighter before a flame appears. After starting it, he goes to pass it to Niall who immediately shakes his head. Once Louis’s taken a hit, he passes it to an eager YN.

Everyone begins to have their own side conversations and Harry feels the butterflies in his stomach threatening to escape when YN doesn’t let go of his hand.

He watches from behind his pitch dark sunglasses as she holds the blunt between her thumb and first two fingers, wrapping her lips around it ever so gently and hollowing out her cheeks. Her teeth clench together as she holds the smoke in her lungs for a couple of beats, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling before releasing the smoke into the space above her.

“How yeh feeling, Nialler?” Ben asks and turns the camera towards Niall in hopes of not capturing what the band is doing. Especially YN as it could cause harm to her “good girl” image that fans already know isn’t fully her.

“Not good,” He mutters out.

“Yeh want me to shotgun you one, Ni? It’ll make yeh feel better.” YN asks with a teasing smile once she blows out another puff from between her full lips, passing the blunt off to Harry. As he snickers along with the rest of the band, he has to admit that he’s relieved when Niall politely declines her offer.

Once Harry has it between his lips and takes a deep inhale, he's suddenly coughing a few times into his fist.

"Woah," YN giggles and puts a hand on her bandmate's shoulder, already feeling the effects. "Maybe I should have offered you a hit instead."

Her teasing comment only makes him cough more at the intimate thought as he passes the drug to Liam.

"S'just been a while," He manages to say once he's calmed down.

"Just offering," YN smiles at him, biting down on her bottom lip as she leans her head back to the metal wall behind her.

"Well, you seem to be feeling better," Harry quickly changes the subject before he lets his hazy mind wander. He matches her position and leans his head back. A smile etches on his lips when she giggles, closing her eyes and nodding her head.

"Thanks to you," She whispers and gives his hand a squeeze. Getting into a fuzzy headspace, she doesn't think about how long she's been holding his hand or how it makes her skin tingle at his touch. Instead, she brings their hands up between them and pushes them flat against one another so their palms are together. "Woah, look how much bigger yeh hands are."

His dimples dig into his cheeks as he cheekily chuckles at her, letting her maneuver their hands together as she pleases.

"How long?" Louis asks the drivers through the wall behind him. After letting him know that they've arrived, he dramatically yells out, "Okay!"

As soon as their security teams have opened the back doors of the tiny van, everyone begins to scooch their way out.

"S'almost as big as me face!" Harry lets out a string of high-pitched giggles when YN grasps his hand in both of hers and holds it up close to her face to demonstrate her point.

“It made the experience 10x better than it needed to be,” YN laughs, reminiscing at the fun memories she had with her boys. “I just felt bad for Niall, poor thing got both motion sickness and a secondhand high.”

"Alright, last one."

“Yeah, so—” YN sucks in a deep breath through her teeth from the spicy wing she just had. “Um, this was around the time when I started to write some songs on me own, just out on a whim. This was when me manager told me that someone was interested in buying it. So that was me reaction to the news. As you can tell, I acted very professional and calm about the situation.”

...

"I must say that you're doing a really good job so far," Sean smiles at the pop star across the table. "Most would have finished their first glass of milk by now while you're still drinking water."

"I'm built different."

“It’s no surprise to anyone that you know your way around a guitar. You’ve shown off some of your favorite and unique guitars from your extensive collection over the past couple of years. From your custom-made Daisy Rock Debutante butterfly shape staple to your Fender Vintera '50s Stratocaster that was used in a plethora of ABBA’s songs. From Jimi Hendrix's 1967 Gibson Flying V to your baritone/tenor snail shaped ukulele—The Snailele. Out of the all of guitars in your care, what would you say is the coolest guitar you own and why is it your Red Special?”

YN covers her mouth as she laughs out loud while simultaneously trying not to think about the heat increasing in her mouth.

“How do you even know that? I mean, yeh asking me to pick me favorite is like choosing my favorite child. I love all me guitars and they all have a chokehold over me heart. My Red Special is just—” YN has to take in a deep breath in hopes to cool down the heat building on her tongue. “—one of the fookin’ coolest things I own. It’s a hand-crafted replica of Brian May’s guitar that he uses for literally everything and when I met him I nearly shit meself, m’not even joking. Like, that guy is fookn’ superhero, know what I mean? And when he gifted me the guitar, I saw the light, man. I literally had an outside body experience. Like I saw meself in the middle of Brian May’s dressing room as he handed me the guitar.”

“Some people buy and collect expensive cars, I have cool guitars,” YN shrugs with a content smile.

...

“Now, let’s talk about the infamous Harry Styles.”

YN nods her head towards the host, hissing in a deep breath from the hot wing she just ate. This piece has easily become one of the spicier wings so far and she can instantly tell why that is from the mention of her secret fiancé. She smirks as she raises her glass of water to her lips, “Lets.”

“So, you guys have known each other for a little more than 12 years now as you guys were in One Direction together. And on New Years 2020, it has revealed to the world that you guys were in a relationship. Now, I won’t ask for you to go into the details of your relationship but is there any particular reason as to why you guys have kept your anniversary a secret?”

“You know, from a very young age, mine and Harry’s lives have always been in the public eye,” YN licks her lips and chuckles as the burning sensation only increases the more she speaks. They don’t call this hot sauce DaBomb for nothing. “Holy shit. Think m’gonna have to take off me blazer for this one, is that alright?” YN questions, already shedding off her coat. The tattoos scattered along her arms go on display and fans can see Harry’s handwriting inked on her upper rib cage.

“Go ahead, whatever you need to do,” Sean gives her a comforting smile. “Here, I’ll even take my jacket off, too. We’re in this together.”

“I feel the support,” YN laughs but it only makes the stinging that much more intense. “M’actually starting to sweat. Oof okay umm…yeah, even the way our relationship was ‘announced’ kind of left us vulnerable, in a way.”

“What a start to the new year.”

“Exactly. And there was a time in our lives where we felt that everyone knew everything about us and it was something that just didn’t sit well with us. So to have this one piece of our lives for only ourselves just felt right. And even though I’m on social media more than he is and I post a couple of pictures of us every now and then, we definitely don’t feel that way anymore. Which feels really nice.”

“Moving onto the more professional side of your relationship with Harry, you’ve obviously worked with him during your time in the band. You were initially brought onto his production team as a songwriter for his first album, then a musician, vocal-arrangement manager, and producer for his second, and now you were all of the above plus co-lead producer for his current album, Harry’s House. You’ve also worked with big time artists like Little Mix, The Weeknd, Lizzo, and Olivia Rodrigo just to name a few. How did that initial experience help you grow as a producer and build relationships when working with other artists?”

“You’ve really done yeh research haven’t yeh?” YN giggles before going into a coughing fit, quickly bringing the red cloth over her mouth from the spicy wing. “Excuse me. Shit, sorry,” YN laughs before reaching for her tall glass of water.

“Is it finally starting to hit?”

YN takes a gulp of water, quickly licking her lips as she sniffles away the start of a running nose. Being as stubborn as ever, she shakes her head, “Nope.”

“We do have milk for you there if you need it,” Sean kindly points out and YN begins to chew on a piece of ice.

“Don’t need it, ‘fanks. Umm, oh right. Harry’s me best friend above all else and we’ve been writing together since as long as I can remember. We’ve gone through and learned about this process together for over a decade now. He’s considered one of me biggest clients and when we work together, I tell him the honest truth. I don’t like to suga’ coat shit and it’s how I work. That’s something that he knows, feel comfortable with, and respects. And there’s always that ‘something’ you learn about with every artist you work with. Like sure we can go into the studio cold turkey and make a song together but before I work with someone, I wanna take them outside of the mindset, ‘Okay, I wanna make a #1 hit single,’ and make a song that means something to them.”

YN swallows thickly, swinging her legs back and forth as she tries to get her thoughts in order from her spice-induced brain.

“With Harry, he’s sort of allowed me to explore and experiment when making music; he trusts me in that sense and as a producer, that’s the most important thing I can have when creating something as intimate as music.”

...

YN’s eyes widen when she sees Sean begin to shake the bottle, “O-oh we’re doing this?”

“It’s tradition around here to add a little bit more sauce on the last wing. Now you don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Seany boy, if there’s one thing yeh should know about me is that v’got a huge ego. But m’sure yeh already knew that,” YN just her hand out towards the host, wiggling her fingers while sucking in another sharp breath in hopes to ease the pain on her tongue. “Gimme that shit.”

With an uneasy sigh, YN shakes the bottle to pour some of the thick hot sauce to the last wing on the cutting board.

“Come on, YN,” YN whispers to herself. “You’re a bad bitch.”

Making sure to avoid her lips from touching the chicken as much as possible, she takes a heavy bite from the last wing.

She scrunches up her face as she chews but it turns into a pleasantly surprised expression. “Wait, what the fook that one was actually quite good. S’actually not that bad—oh shit, no nevermind.”

Sean chuckles at the rollercoaster of emotions displayed in front of him. YN gulps down as much water as she can.

“Okay, side question as you’re processing all of this: Since you have yet to reach for the milk we have for you, in your honest opinion, do you think Harry Styles could handle the range of spice that you’ve endured over the course of this show?”

YN chews and speaks around a mouthful of ice, “He can try but he wouldn’t make it past the second one.”

“Is that a little trash talk I hear?” Sean laughs.

“Listen up, baby,” YN leans her elbow on the table and points to the camera that’s solely directed on her. “I love yeh, you know I do, but you couldn’t eat any of this shit if yeh tried. Just the smell of it is gonna make your eyes water. Just looking out for you, lovie. And let’s face it, we both clearly know m’the stronger one here,” She blows a kiss at the camera and reaches for her water cup once again.

When she has the glass to her lips, she huffs out a giggle, “He’s gonna come after me for that later. Fook, s’like m’breahting fire right now.”

YN leans her forearms on the edge of the round table and balls her hands into fists to keep herself stable at the burning on her tongue intensifies.

“That last thing I wanna do before be close up shop here is play a little game of association. I’m going to throw out some stuff out to you and I want you to tell me the first thing that comes to your mind. Are you ready?”

“Hit me with ‘em.”

“Jacob Collier.”

YN scoffs and shakes her head with a smile, “A fookin’ mastermind.”

“The restaurant Danny’s Place.” YN throws her head back and laughs at how much research this guy actually did on her past. Her brain has turned into utter mush from the spicy chicken that she can’t come up with a polite, media-trained response.

“It’s still shit,” YN shrugs and she doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

“Loophole.”

“Woah,” YN’s eyes widen with a chuckle. “Oh my word. Hell yeah. Okay—you are like the best interviewer I’ve ever had in me life. Um, bitch’n.”

...

“Okay to this camera, this camera or this camera, tell the people what you’ve got going on lately.”

“Um—” YN blinks away her spice-induced tears away, sniffing and rubbing the red cloth to her runny nose. “M’currently on a world tour. So if yeh bought a ticket, I’ll see yeh lot very soon. Also, me new album Waiting Room comes out the day after tomorrow—Wait, when will this air? Well, it will be out very soon because I can’t really think straight at the moment. Erm, this show was a fookin’ piece of cake and Sean Evans is a legend.”

The Sean and the crew members behind the cameras all clap and cheer making YN laugh. Once the shoot is a wrap and the credits begin to show up at the bottom of the screen, YN gets up and out of her seat to give a hug to possibly her new favorite host.

“How often do you do this?” She genuinely asks.

“Every week.”

“You eat this spicy shit every week?” Sean nods and laughs at how wide her eyes get. “You’re a fookin’ legend, man. I mean it.”

taglist:

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l00rem · 1 year

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Sammy Lawrence character analysis

I had a small epiphany recently about Sammy’s character which just recontextualized his entire character for me and I really wanted to write it down so here’s a mini essay about our beloved musician and prophet :)

I think one of the biggest questions people often have about Sammy as a character is why he never left JDS despite the fact he seemed quite aware of how horrible it was for his mental health and that he had the talent to get a better job. My answer to this is also the main basis of this entire analysis: Sammy is a person who would rather be treated horribly then be useless.

There are many examples of this throughout the entire series. To make things easier, I’ll be going through his character in a mostly chronological order.

Before being hired

To repeat what I said earlier, people find it quite strange that Sammy didn’t leave considering his level of talent and artistic genius. But I think it’s important that we flip this around. If Sammy has so much talent, how come before being hired by Joey he was taking on jobs that he clearly didn’t really want to be doing? To quote one of his scenes at the party:

‘ The man at the piano shook his head. He seemed annoyed.(…) Sammy was not a fan of attention and definitely didn’t like putting on a show like this’

So it’s obvious that performing to audiences isn’t how Sammy wanted to be using his talent. But judging by the amount of praise Joey heaps onto him, he could’ve gotten any job he wanted right?

This is where I’m going to start heading into headcannon territory, because we don’t really know much about Sammy before working with Jack apart from the fact he once worked for the cinema.

I think it’s highly possible that Sammy suffers from the case of being really gifted , but still not good enough. He’s definitely talented, he knows this himself. But for whatever reason he was never good enough to be hired to compose for movies or anything else he seemed he’d rather be doing. Perhaps this was because of his personality putting people off? He’s quite a straightforward guy, I wouldn’t be surprised if his employers didn’t appreciate his unsolicited criticism of their works ( in other words, they can’t handle his autistic swag lmao). In fact, going off of how suspicious and distrusting he is of Joey, Its possible that he’d been tricked or scammed by his past employers. Whatever the reason, it lead to him having to settle for less and not pursue his passion the way he truly wanted to.

This is why I think he’s surprisingly so easily hired by Joey. Sammy continuously acts like he’s disinterested in Joeys offer, even though we know he’s going to be working at this place for the next 16 years of his life. I believe this is because Sammy knows JDS needs him, he is too talented for this place which makes him important. Which means he’s useful and won’t be thrown away. This makes sense when you consider the state the music department is in when Sammy demands to see it.

‘ I opened the door to the small music room. An upright piano and music stand were tightly packed inside, barley able to fit in the space. (…) This definitely did not look impressive.’

The fact that Sammy immediately begins demanding things after seeing it says a lot too. It’s as if he’s immediately pushing to see what Joey will allow, to see how badly he needs him. The more desperate Joey is to hire him, the more safe and secure this job will be for him.

And so he takes as much control as possible, demanding complete creative control over his area. The more he’s responsible for, the more he’s proving himself useful. Even if this will lead to him having waaaay too much work for one person to handle.

Working at JDS

Sammy’s 1935 tape shows us just how much he’s willing to put up with as long as it means he’s useful. He’s completely aware of how overworked he is, but ignores this in favour of ‘ keeping the little devil happy’ which most likely refers to Joey. Despite how much he complains, I think he prides himself on being able to get so much work done in such little time. Perhaps he even sees being overworked as proof that the studio just needs him that much? That he’s that significant to the success of the cartoons? Joey probably also used this tactic to manipulate Sammy, to convince him that he’s only giving him so much work because he trusts and believes in him so much.

I think Joey also figured this out from the way he talks about Sammy in Tiol. In fact it’s as if he’s actively mocking him.

‘ I wouldn’t say I was lucky to get him as part of my team, nor that I’m lucky he’s stayed with me all these years.’

‘I can’t make anyone do anything, even as a boss.’

‘ I’d never trade Sammy Lawrence for anything.’

= ‘ oh yeah he’s really talented and could totally have another job if he wanted but I actually need him and would never throw him away! He totally has the will to leave if he wants to but he stays because he knows he’s wanted here :)’

Jack’s 1943 tape does seem to confirm that the studio needs Sammy. By 1943, bendy wasn’t very relevant. Most people hadn’t really heard about the cartoons. And yet Sammy and Jack were still winning awards for their songs. In Sammy’s mind this probably solidified that the studio needs him. He doesn’t care that Joey took the credit because that’s not what matters to him. Better to know your doing good at your job then to risk upsetting your employer.

It seems he prides himself on being able to take on so much work too. In the employee handbook there’s a newspaper article on how Joey mistreats his employees and here’s what Sammy has to say about it:

‘Some people can’t take it and that’s fine’- he’s highlighting the fact that he is someone who can take it and therefore is useful to the studio. He even seems to be projecting, calling those who drop out ‘ useless’.

I think ‘ love requires sacrifice’ isn’t actually something Sammy made up to appease bendy, it’s something he lived by for most of his life. He’ll sacrifice his entire mental health if it means he’ll be loved in return. Of course, this would later take on a more darker and literal meaning.

In fact, I think there’s another factor that contributed to Sammy not being able to leave. @threadedsafteypin wrote this analysis on how Sammy may have struggled with imposter syndrome:

https://www.tumblr.com/threadedsafetypin/668068661627600896/sammy-lawrence-having-imposter-syndrome-its-more

So this gives him another reason as to why he can’t leave. If he’s working at JDs because it enables him to feel wanted and useful, then quitting because he’s struggling would be literally admitting that there’s an area in music he struggles with. In his mind he’d be proving his insecurities right, that he’s not as amazing and talented as the world thinks he is.

But Sammy had people who cared about him that would’ve been able to prove to him he’s worth more then what he can do for others right? Probably, but I think he failed to see that because of how important it is for him to feel wanted.

Let’s look at his partnership with Jack. I do believe that they truly trusted each other and remained friends during their time at JDS. However, it wouldn’t surprise me if Sammy deliberately distanced himself from Jack. Sure, Jack is one of the few people Sammy seems to actually like, but would he leave Sammy for someone better if he realised how much Sammy was faking it? I doubt it. But Sammy’s fatal flaw is his lack of trust in other people, he’s so paranoid of being worthless in the eyes of other people that he’d rather isolate himself then risk losing them. Especially someone like Jack who is directly linked to him through his talent in music.

Tragically, I think his fallout with Susie would have confirmed this paranoia for him. From his perspective, Susie doesn’t like him anymore because she no longer works for him. He isn’t her boss, isn’t there to direct her anymore and is therefore useless to her. Of course, we know this isn’t the full story. Joey intentionally orchestrated Susie’s firing so that she’d think it was Sammy’s fault. It isn’t that she stopped caring about him because she didn’t need him anymore, it’s because she thought he’d abandoned her. This outcome is very beneficial for Joey, it’ll make Sammy more desperate to seek validation from working for Joey rather then his relationships with other people. So he’ll be more reliant on Joey, no matter how much work is shoved onto him. The moment someone doesn’t need him they’ll cut ties with him, so it’s best to stay with someone who obviously needs him.

Serving the ink demon

Sammy’s devotion to bendy is the best example of how far he’s willing to go to be useful to someone. I think when Sammy accidentally drinks ink for the first time he was actually in a very desperate position. In his letter to Joey at the start of Batdr he seems uncharacteristically worried.

Considering what we’ve established, it makes sense that he’d try to help the studio not shut down. If it does, not only will he lose the place he feels secure in, but it will also show that he wasn’t good enough to keep bendy successful ( this isn’t actually the case, we know it’s all Joeys fault for his spending habits, but I think this is how Sammy would see things).

Furthermore, by the time he gets infected Susie would have been fired for a while and Jack seems very absent in DCTL ( probably because he was murdered by Joey off screen) so Sammy would be lacking what little support system he actually had. Suffice to say, he would not have been doing mentally well.

Sammy knows this company is going down hill, it’s inevitable that it’ll go bankrupt at this point. He’s losing his purpose. Enter the ink demon. A terrifying and powerful being who promises to give him a new use. Sammy says it himself in Dctl:

‘It wanted me. He wanted me.’

‘The more I felt him. Heard him. I need to please him.’

He was so desperate to not be cast aside that he was literally willing to sacrifice his coworkers in order to be of use to someone.

And then he gets sent into the ink realm at some point and the ink demon presumably stops talking to him. He’s lost his purpose but doesn’t even have the option to leave anymore. So no wonder he deludes himself Into thinking bendy will set him free. He basically has no choice, if he faces the reality of his hopeless situation will he even be able to keep going?

He convinces himself that it’s all just a test, he hasn’t been abandoned, bendy does everything for a reason. He just needs to get him to notice him again through sacrifice to remind bendy of how useful he can be.

Bendy killing Sammy was a massive reality check for him. It sends him into a complete spiral as he’s forced to confront the truth that he’s been thrown away yet again. But he still can’t fathom why he’d been ‘ left to rot’. After all, he’d kept on sacrificing people like bendy originally wanted hadn’t he? He’d remained faithful even after being ignored for years, spent years praising bendy’s name despite all possible logic pointing against it!

He has nothing. He’s worth nothing. All the suffering he endured was for nothing. We can clearly see that Sammy despises being useless more then anything else. If bendy had kept on talking to him, even if it was all lies, he would have probably have been happier then facing the truth.

Having no purpose

He may have a stupidly small amount of screen time in batdr, but I think his jail scene still tells us a lot.

I’d go as far to argue that the Sammy we see in prison is probably his lowest point in the series that we’ve ever seen.

I mean just look at him. He doesn’t even turn to look at Audrey when she enters. He’s been told that his lord is dead, that he’s a false prophet, that nothing he’s done has mattered because no one is coming to free him. If this is how Sammy acts when he feels worthless it’s no wonder that he lied to himself about bendy being his lord. He’s completely dejected of all hope.

To add to this feeling of uselessness, it doesn’t even seem like he knows how to play anymore. It sounds like he’s trying to play hellfire follis but miserably failing. Not only does he fail as a prophet, but he can’t even be a musician- the last part of his identity he could even latch onto at this point.

And honestly, as happy as an ending as Batdr seems for most of the cast, I don’t think this’ll be the same for Sammy. After all, his lord has completely left the ink realm. He has no one to serve anymore. He’ll lose all his purpose, and everyone around him tells him this is supposed to be for the better? He’s supposed to be content with remaining an ink man for the foreseeable future just because there’s no other option?

I think Sammy actually has the potential to be a villain in the next game ( assuming we get one judging from that scene at the end). Maybe someone from gent, like Alan Grey, will somehow get in contact with him and promise to give him a use again. All he has to do is go against the residents of the ink realm in order to serve him. And if Sammy’s desperate enough, I wouldn’t be surprised if he accepted.

I really do hope we see more of Sammy. I don’t think the meatly is a particularly good writer so I’m not expecting some amazing character ark but tbh I’ll take any crumbs at this point. As long as they don’t make him forgive Joeys bs ‘redemption’ ark I don’t think they can mess up his character too badly. But I’ll guess we’ll have to see when the next bendy game comes out in five years.

#sammy lawrence #bendy and the dark revival #batim #batdr #joey drew #character analysis #wow I wrote so much for a character with such little screen time #what being hyperfixated on a character for months will do to a bitch #in conclusion please give Sammy more screen time bc he has so much potential as a character :)

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