#is this a scene from Music & Lyrics? MAYBE
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juniemunie · 5 months ago
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"Why am I still doing this?"
"Don't you get it?"
"This is all just a show... and we're playing parts~"
#junie art post#utmv#ink sans#swap sans#dream sans#yea that lyric is from the undertale musical... it was fitting#anyways#you know how back then star sanses were 'fight evil (bad sanses) do good!!' i mean... it still is. but back then it was more...innocent?#*looks at the steven universe star sanses cover i saved on my phone*#ultimately tho...how much do u think ink plays along with that as nothing more than a script given to him#because really. ink is more of a stagehand than a stage performer#and for ink that job comes with knowledge that makes it hard to perform#like you guys ever think more about how ink struggles to view the people around him as “real” (like him) and not characters?#i think about it a lot.#especially. in his 'star sanses' era#to me theres always this nonchalance(?) he treats other sanses 'backstory' and maybe the character themself if he interacts with them#because he cant really treat them as 'real' people#you get what i mean???#THAT DOESNT MEAN HE STAYS LIKE THIS FOREVER. HE CAN GET DEVELOPMENT. LOOK AT ZEPHYRTOP RP. PRIME EXAMPLE.#you see i imagine star sanses as like this cute tv show like madoka magica. starts off cute. ends with you in a crisis#dream is easily the protag in my eyes. comes out with no clue how long its been and explores with fresh eyes. meets swap. meets ink#then they fight evil! cool multiverse exploration! undertale shenanigans!!!!#dream and swap go thru their character arcs#and ink stays suspiciously stagnant#until we get THIS reveal and theres that implication that hes been also behind the scenes nudging things along to 'improve the story'#'anything for the entertainment of the Creators!'#ISNT THAT MESSED UP?? ISNT THAT G R E A T#utmv fanart#ink!tale#underswap
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bmpmp3 · 1 month ago
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hibiki koto's SV bank is shaping out to sound like it would sound gorgeous in some revue starlight songs, i hope someone's able to try that out someday
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maganne-bonete · 1 year ago
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Also listening to the Horse and the Infant makes me think of Laurent but I guess it's because of the whole singing abt your loved ones while being away in war, having them as one of your drive to live and fight, but still having that softness inside you. But also, he's really smart when it comes to fighting. He was still well taught under his father's house despite being illegitimate. Just without the baby killing part.
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pressplay-if · 4 months ago
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demo (prologue + ch.1 & 2, 118k words)
please mind the content warnings!
cog forum post
You are one of the most famous yet mysterious characters of the 21st century rock scene. 
It all started when you discovered your love for singing during an extended stay at a psychiatric hospital as a teen. Music became your motivator, and from then on, you knew the stage was where you belonged. You and your friends formed a band, and after years of practice in a garage and cheap gigs at dingy bars, your journey to the top begins abruptly when you team up with a skilled manager.
It’s a meteoric rise— until it isn’t. 
And now, a decade after your band has disappeared from the public eye, you’ve accepted an interview by the acclaimed Groove Magazine. You and your former band members have agreed to give them the truth, the whole truth; as ugly as that might be. 
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Follow the story of your band’s rise to fame (and eventual fall from grace)
Play as a pop-rock vocalist
Name your band and customize your music, lyrics and image
Handle the media, interactions with pushy fans and your own repressed thoughts and fears 
Romance your coolgirl-bassist, the childhood friend you cut out of your life, your absolutely insane guitarist, or your biggest fan/possibly stalker
Give one hell of an interview
Inspiration: Daisy Jones and The Six, Fleetwood Mac… and all sorts of music-related drama.
TW: themes of mental illness, unhealthy relationships, substance abuse, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation, self-harm, SA-related trauma
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ROs:
Stevie McLaughlin, bassist (f) — “I suppose I was the sanest one in that bunch.”
She’s one of your oldest friends, and if you follow the clanking chain of cause and effect all the way back to the beginning, it is her you have to thank for your entire career. The band was her idea, after all. She’s level-headed, composed, and always there to talk you down when you need her. Sometimes, she acts more as your retainer than anything else…
Stevie is tall and skinny with light brown skin and extremely long, curly black hair which she always wears in a wet look. She has big, dark brown eyes and a soft face.
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Paul/Paulette Zima, lead singer & saxophonist (f/m selectable, trans) — “Trying to figure out where you know me from?”
Your band’s brand-new, second lead singer. Your manager says they’re going to give your music the kick it needs, that they’re the one missing ingredient to your success. You’re not entirely sure if you agree. Worse yet, you happen to know this person, and your time together didn’t end on a favorable note. They’re part of a past you would much rather forget.
Paul is very tall, broad-backed and thickly muscled with light skin, shoulder-length slicked back brown hair and bottle green eyes.
Paulette is of average height with an hourglass/slim thick figure. She has dark brown hair with parted bangs and light blonde strands dyed into it. Her eyes are bottle green.
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Angel Monsanto, guitarist (m) — “I was always going to make it big, with or without those guys. Only, I… I really wanted it to be with them.”
Your crazy but good-hearted guitarist. His passion for music borders on obsession, and he will stop at nothing to make a name for your band. Sadly, he’s very much of the conviction that all publicity is good publicity, which has encouraged him to pull some very questionable stunts in the past. 
Angel is of average height and build with a warm beige complexion and long black hair. He has a square jaw with an occasional five o’clock shadow and brown eyes. 
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Lincoln Saunders, groupie?? (f/m selectable) — “What can I say, I loved them.”
Calling Lincoln a fan would be an understatement. Fanatic is more like it. You remember seeing them at your very first show, and you’ve continued to spot them at every venue you’ve played at since. You don’t know anything about them, and perhaps changing that would be a very bad idea. But maybe you still want to.
Lincoln (m) is short and lean, with an angular face and wavy blond hair. His eyes are cobalt blue. 
Lincoln (f) is petite and tan, with a youthful, round face and chin-length blond beach waves. Her eyes are cobalt blue.
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Others:
Maddox Wells (m), drummer
Another one of your oldest friends. You don’t much like to talk about what happened with him.
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Fatima Shah (f), drummer — “I’m pretty sure they used to try to make me disappear with their fog machine.”
After things didn’t work out with your original drummer, Fatima saved the day. She’s a sweetheart to you, but from what you’ve heard, she can be kind of a terrible person. Maybe it’s best to stay a little wary of her.
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Kalena Graham (f), manager — “The first time I saw them… well, they kind of sucked. But I knew, I just knew, that they had what it takes to suck on an international level.”
Your band’s manager. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have caught her attention. She’s experienced, driven, well-regarded in the industry and… kind of mean, to be honest.
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Simon Young (m), reporter — “Start at the beginning. And then, don’t stop.”
The guy conducting the interview for Groove Magazine. He’s nice enough, if a little starstruck. It seems he has been waiting a long time for this.
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Addendum: NSFW alphabet masterlist
Zima pt. 1 and pt. 2
Stevie
Lincoln
Angel
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto
Please consider reblogging <3
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pomefioredove · 4 months ago
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okay after reading all the goth hc, I gotta ask. how do you think the guys would react (any of them but preferred Floyd and Idia ) to playing them goth music/show them a trad goth outfit/makeup look (suprise them maybe? For example: I hc Leona to just have the least slay music taste to mankind (beastmankind?) so you play him- idk let’s say Lebanon Hanover, and he’s like “wtf is this herbivore?” But then he kinda gets into it. no pressure to write for it btw!
-✨♥️✨
ANON I was literally thinking about making a post like this a few days before this ask... you have my heart. I'm doing a full post
summary: nrc boys and goth type of post: headcanons characters: nrc students additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, half-headcanons half-x reader author's note: I'm assuming that goth as a subculture and a music scene already exists in this world. this post is also mostly about the music scene
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Riddle is essentially a baby bat
he's like, two bad life choices away from going full victorian goth at any given moment
he flat out refuses to listen to anything "vulgar" but secretly adores the dark, poetic side to goth
he's also morbidly obsessed with death, being a sad victorian boy and the child of two doctors. it works
as much as I hate to say it, Ace starts out as the kind of guy to say he wants a "goth gf" on multiple occasions
he proudly announces it to everyone at an unbirthday party once and Riddle almost kills him for being annoying for interrupting
thinks the music is too sad
...but he mellows out eventually (your influence)
both Deuce and Trey are not particularly interested
(Deuce leaned into punk music as a preteen but has since "given it up" because it's too unruly for an aspiring honors student, in his opinion)
Cater inexplicably already knows a lot about goth
won't talk about it unless you bring it up first but if you play him something semi-popular
he'll be like "oh yeah I know that one"
he has a few songs on his playlist he listens to when he's alone
is a goth magnet himself. pulls many hot goths. no one knows how
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jack is also not really into it. not his thing
however I can see him secretly being into emo
make of that what you will
and Ruggie will never pass you the aux again. he calls it "halloween music"
Leona acts thoroughly uninterested for a long time
like, he'll listen to the music you give him, but doesn't really say whether he likes it or not
says he doesn't care about the scene (thinks it's too pretentious)
and pretends to be annoyed when you give him more song recs
but he gets into it. he starts listening on his own
he has a definite preference for gothic rock
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jade is already goth (to me at least)
and very eager to talk about his favorite bands
loves giving recommendations
apparently the coral sea has its own goth subgenres and bands, which sound... much different from land ones
Floyd will listen (has listened, thanks to his brother) but he doesn't particularly care
he much prefers the aesthetic, it reminds him of home
...being that he's from the deep sea, where it's dark and cold
the flowy, dark, elegant looks are just enchanting to him. he can't keep his eyes off it
Azul couldn't be bothered
he's willing to learn, but isn't a huge fan of the general... strangeness
(he doesn't really understand why anyone would want to be perceived as strange in the first place)
and the music is so unmelodic to him
"that was just a man moaning and a gate creaking for seven minutes" and then he bans you from his office
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim literally listens to goth already
I don't know how to explain it but I know he does
it's so funny because he never ever dresses goth or acts stereotypically goth but every once in a while he'll be like "who wants to hear my new favorite song? :D" and it's like, alien sex fiend. and no one can say anything about it
Jamil is an appreciator
depending on what you show him, he could really get into the lyricism and general mood
...if only because he finds goth dancing absolutely mesmerizing
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rook is goth
he only dresses the part sometimes, but he's always been very passionate about the poetic elements of the music
...really into french coldwave
in terms of fashion he leans romantic goth
it just makes sense to me. he could find beauty in absolutely anything, and the dark and macabre are no exception
will talk your ear off about his favorite bands if you give him the chance
Vil is really more into the style than the music
he's dabbled in a little bit of everything; trad goth, romantic goth, medieval goth. he pulls all of it off
honestly, if anything, the gothic style compliments his features and tastes more than anything
he has such a respect for the subculture and the dedication that goes into the visual elements
Epel doesn't get it. sorry 😔
he will listen to the music you recommend because he cares about you, but he just doesn't like it
he's in the same boat as Azul. "was that a slide whistle?"
absolutely baffled, but he likes you and it's a small price to pay for your happiness
(and he thinks the fashion is too androgynous for his tastes)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
I feel like Idia also used to think he wanted a goth until he saw the e-girl vs goth discourse, freaked out, then spent two weeks reading about different subcultures
...still wants a goth partner
but now he actually knows what that means
will listen to any music you give him out of respect (fear) and won't say anything about whatever weird taxidermy-related hobby you have
he's surrounded by death all the time anyway who cares
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
you could get Silver to listen to the cure's entire discography and he'd come out of it really enjoying just like heaven and nothing else
it's just... not for him
(plus the slower songs put him to sleep)
Malleus somehow hasn't even heard of goth as a genre when you approach him
he is. a little disappointed it's not music about the architecture style
but he still warms up to it, especially as someone who enjoys finding the beauty in the dark and misunderstood
you can fix him. you can goth him.
Sebek joins only after everyone in Diasomnia gets in on it with you (he doesn't like being left out)
he loves it because silver doesn't and malleus does
peepaw Lilia is an old goth
he was around when the music scene started, and he also remembers the literature movement it was named after, and the popular architecture style that was named after, and...
...you get it
still, he's always pleased to learn about new bands and subgenres and styles and the like
could and will talk about it for hours and hours with you
he dresses the part, too
we love him
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calummss · 1 year ago
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dating 90s/00s eminem …
masterlist 𓆩♱𓆪
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kim and hailie don’t exist in this universe
start and development of relationship
i definitely imagine him to take notice of you at one of the underground rap battles roughly 1992/1993
your friend who was interested in going dragged you along one night cause they were really into rap and hip hop
and there you saw him! the one and only marshall marthers destroying every opponent that stood before him
after the battles came to an end you were already attracted to him and tried to get to him to talk to him
here’s how i think it would go:
‘hey, i just wanted to tell you that you absolutely killed it on stage. it’s my first time here so i lack certain knowledge but i know enough to know that you have an incredible talent’
‘thank you. your first time? what’s your name?’
‘y/n’
‘eminem. marshall mathers’
i imagine you to awkwardly shake hands. like i know you’re in the detroit underground scene but neither of you knew how to proceed
‘i hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can i give you my number?’ your mind literally racing
‘sure, i’ll give you a call if i’m interested’
THIS MAN TURNS AROUND AND DIALS YOUR NUMBER AND LETS YOU ANSWER!! turning around with a smirk and just straight up low key flirting with you
he was embarrassed to bring you to his home but you eventually just showed up one day cause he wasn’t returning calls—you reassured him that you didn’t care and let slip that you loved him no matter what
marshall was definitely a bit overwhelmed at first and took him like a minute to snap out of his trance because it was most likely the first time he truly felt loved, appreciated and cared for
you supported him and his music until he was eventually signed
everyone was confused why you stayed with a man who wrote violent lyrics especially about his wife so you had to explain over and over again that the wife was fictional
and everyone that truly knew marshall knew that he would never lay a hand on you. he would rather d!e than hurt you
three years after you meet you become pregnant and were scared he was going to leave (news flash he didn’t)
he reassured you that if you wanted to keep the baby that you two would figure it out and that he would and could never ever leave your side
you married quick and definitely rushed it but it proved to be the best decision you made including keeping the baby
this lead to the birth of your beautiful daughter—for some reason the name romy jane won’t leave my mind so i’ll just leave it at that
anyway you blink and stardom surrounds marshall
a few hiccups occurred during the relationship but nothing major and you always managed to talk things trough
what the relationship would include
his hand would alway be on your waist! no matter if you’re on his lap, standing next to him or whatever, his hand will be at its rightful place
i believe he prefers cheek and jaw kisses. he loves a good forehead kiss and hand kiss when he’s emotional and talking to you about certain struggles
speaking of struggles; he would always and i mean always put on his strong persona for you but sometimes his walls would crumble and would cry into your shoulder holding you so tight like you’re about to slip from his grasp
you would make appearances in a few music videos
he would also prefer to be in the studio alone but brings you along when all demos are done to get your opinion because he values it a lot (low key more than dres)
of course you would be his main inspiration for a lot of songs, also you daughter, because he admires both of you so much
marshall is 100% a very jealous and possessive man. not overbearing but maybe a little more intense than the average man? he trusts you fully but not others. he doesn’t forbid you of anything but will always say and do stuff to let others know that you’re off limits
i imagine after you got married he got a tattoo of your face or name on his chest like right over his heart
likes holding hands in public and an occasional kiss but nothing more. he prefers his affection to be reserved for only you and not the world
ONLY refers to you as ‘my girl’. when he’s with friends he’d say stuff like ‘yo, where is my girl?’. and others would also refer to you as ‘his girl’. at one point you just got the nickname ‘slim’s girl’ or ‘shady’s girl’ depending on which you prefer
tries to keep you away from hollywood and only goes for recordings, shows etc. when he’s done you both leave for detroit to lead a somewhat quiet life
definitely will buy you a lot of gifts. sometimes expensive or cheap; something that reminds him of you or something he knows you want. he just feels like showering you with gifts. his love language is giving gifts or acts of service. he will watch your favourite show just because you like it
em will always thank you in his speeches!! something along the lines of ‘first of all thank you to dr. dre and my two beautiful girls who i love with my entire heart. you two are my world, i love you!’
but like you don’t understand he will always thank you. he could win a life time supply of soap and he would say your name with pride…he’s just so grateful to have you and to be able to call you family
would hold your bag/bags for you. marshall gives you princess treatment without realising bc he genuinely wants to do it. he will snatch those bags out of your hands before you can protest
when other artists or people take your name or your daughter’s name into their mouths with negative connotations you best believe em will rip them apart, so most people will never attack you or romy bc it’s a death sentence
people can call him lame, bad rapper, ugly, whatever they feel like but as soon as anyone mentions a hair on you or romy’s bodies…it’s over. careers are shredded…you love it though
if you are a girl who likes to get her nails done this is for you; at first you started asking him to choose a design and colour and at first he was confused but he learned to love it especially when you scratched his head or your hands around his yknow what…he even once tried to design some and you got it done
the sex is a mix of mildy rough and vanilla. sometimes you both need something a little more “agressive” but he also needs a calm session. i see it kind as a light switch: it’s either rough or vanilla, occasionally you mix it but it turns out one way or another
also the man is a sucker (pun) for head. like he loves your mouth on him. i genuinely believes it’s in his top 2 favourite sexual activities (don’t deny it i’m right)
extra: if you love marshall right and you two work, it will be both of yours best love, but if things don’t work they can quickly turn into a relationship from hell
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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 month ago
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Dom amab reader taking Blade (Honkai Star Rail) going to an Halloween party together and bangs him in a closest 🎃
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Author's Note: This is my first time writing Blade, so hopefully this won't be too OOC!
Pairings: Blade x male reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Blade, risky sex, light choking, Blade calls you 'my heart' because I think that pet name is so precious 💞
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Blaring music, bright flashing lights, loud people, and slutty costumes weren't exactly Blade's scene — so… why was he even here right now?
You. The answer is: you.
Only you, his adoring partner, could turn this wretched hellscape into something tolerable.
Holding Blade's hand firmly, you knocked on the door. The host—one of your friends—greeted the two of you before inviting you in. Just as he expected; there's already a sea of people, all chatting loudly and drinking. An array of costumes—ranging from cheap and slutty, to impressive (and sometimes still slutty) flood his vision.
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You give Blade's hand a little squeeze, letting his grip linger for a bit more before you spot some other friends and strike up a conversation. He opts for standing a few steps behind you while they talk your ear off.
Finally — after several stories about people that Blade doesn't know nor particularly care about — your friends depart to join the crowd busting some moves on the dance floor. You declined their invitation to join them, instead turning back to your partner and offering to grab some drinks together.
Extending your hand towards him, Blade immediately accepts, lacing his fingers with yours as you lead him into the kitchen.
The music is slightly quieter here — there's less people too, allowing an opportunity to talk with him without yelling over the rest of the noise.
“How are you feeling?” you ask as you pass along some "bloody" punch with spooky ice cubes.
“Fine.”
“Just fine? You're not overwhelmed or uncomfortable, are you?”
Blade stared into his cup before answering. “No. I do not care for this large crowd though.”
Suppressing a laugh, you reply, “Yeah, I know. There are way more people than I expected tonight.” your partner grumbles in agreement. “Maybe some dancing will help loosen you up.” you suggest.
…really? His eyes narrow a bit—only you would notice the change in expression. “I do not dance.”
“Aw, c'mon! We can stand off to the side, or in a corner. Just you and me…our hands on each other, if you want.”
He ponders your proposal for a moment. It would be an excuse to have all of your attention on him. Plus, people would be less likely to steal you away for more idle chitchat if they noticed you were busy dancing with someone.
Setting his half empty cup down, Blade exhales through his nose. “Let's go, then.”
While he didn't feel strongly for the music selection either way, your darling did make an effort to 'dance' with you. If you can really call what he was doing dancing.
It was mainly Blade standing there and tapping his foot while you danced around him, singing along to the Halloween hits blaring in his eardrums. Though, he will admit that the way your body moves is attractive… it doesn't help whenever your hands slide underneath his top, or when your nails rake through the hairs on the nape of his neck.
If he didn't know any better, he'd swear you were putting a spell on him. The way Blade's body grew warm — bordering on uncomfortable. His hands would twitch after you whispered some lyrics right into his ear. Then you'd blow on his ear after that, like you knew it drove him mad.
A familiar feeling stirred in his stomach; Blade decided that it must be dealt with before anyone noticed his very obvious reaction.
“Blade, hey where are we going?” you laugh as your partner hastily drags you into a less occupied hallway.
When he finally stops and you get a good look at his face, his cheeks are a little flushed, and his pupils are obviously dilated.
“Whoa, are you feeling ok, you look a little–”
“I… I need you.” he blurts out.
You're a bit taken aback, though you recover and ask, “What do you mean?”
A frustrated groan crawls its way out of Blade's throat. And he repeats “I need you– my heart, I need to be with you.”
The way Blade is leaning back against the wall with his lips parted like this—so unfocused on anything other than you—gives you a hint as to what he's talking about. So, once you catch on, you smirk—which sends a shiver up your darling's spine.
“I see. Damn, all of this just from a little dancing?” you brush your knuckles against his cheek and lean in closer. “Honey, I didn't even grind on you or anything. Are you really this riled up?”
The dissatisfied noise that he makes answers your question. Blade was usually so composed, but the way he was acting tonight… perhaps you haven't given him the attention he needs recently.
“Alright. If my baby is truly so desperate, then I'll take care of you. Come on.” you step next to him, opening the door next to the wall he was leaning on, and guide him inside. You know your friend's house like the back of your hand—this is the closet with the most space. It should be big enough to fit Blade and yourself without being cramped.
You waste no time — pressing his cheek against the cold wall and whispering promises of a very good time. Your hands travel up his chest, unbuttoning the shirt of his costume while your lips find their place on his neck.
There's not exactly a need for foreplay here; Blade is already weak in the knees, so you make his prep quick. Once your cock is in, he relaxes a bit. If it weren't for you holding his leg up, Blade may have sunk into a happy little puddle by now.
As you're fucking him, your darling becomes more demanding. “Kiss me again, I am all yours.” he'll say in a breathless tone that makes your knees feel weak. “There–! That feels… amazing!” he sings, pushing his ass back, which causes you to thrust in deeper. “Mmhm~ My heart, ooh~ Do not stop, please…!” he moans in such a way that makes your heart melt.
Between your body heat, Blade's nonstop panting, and the heat coming from between your legs—the closet is muggy, and condensation clings to your exposed skin.
Blade groans, wracked by a tight sensation in his stomach, “We… we can get closer–” And how can you not oblige when your partner is behaving so well?
“Yeah? Is this better?” you pull Blade flush to your chest, keeping his leg held up, and loosely wrap your other hand around his throat. The sound of skin hitting skin permeates through the air, mixing with the sound of your lips on Blade's shoulder. His hands reach up — one clasps over the hand around his neck, while the other holds on to your bicep for dear life as you speed up even more.
He tried so hard to keep quiet up until this point, but his efforts have slipped away with every passing minute. Your cock has easily coaxed sluttier and sluttier noises out of Blade's mouth. Not that you're complaining though. This hallway is usually empty during these parties, so Blade's moaning shouldn't alert anyone unless he becomes truly loud.
His pretty voice sings for you; moaning obscenities as your climaxes draw near. You chase your own first — letting your pace become uneven before emptying a surge of cum inside of your partner. Which in turn tips him over the edge, and Blade arches his back as he spills onto the closet floor.
“So good for me…” you whisper between kisses all down Blade's cheek and jawline. You're both panting as you recover. Neither one of you wants to move yet—you simply want to enjoy this feeling for a while longer. Perhaps, once you return home, after the party is over, you can continue your Halloween fun~
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crabsnpersimmons · 10 months ago
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This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!
Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.
If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!
so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:
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and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!
you thought the animatic itself was sad?
*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR
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Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.
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Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.
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Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.
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Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.
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Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.
Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.
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Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.
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Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.
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Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.
The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.
This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.
(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)
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Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.
The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.
From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.
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Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.
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Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.
There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.
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Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.
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Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?
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Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.
The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.
Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)
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Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.
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Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.
But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.
Thanks for reading and watching!
We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!
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paulmccart · 8 months ago
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We're Not Gonna Take It! And the Story of How We Almost Did
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Protesters outside of the PMRC senate hearings.
Are you a victim of rock? Well maybe you aren't, but all the way back in 1985 a group of prominent D.C wives felt that they were.
These women, with the help of Beach Boys member Mike Love and Joseph Coors, the owner of Coors Beers, formed the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center).
Their reasoning for forming as co-founder Susan Baker put it:
"It started because one day my 7-year-old came in and started quoting some of Madonna's lyrics to me, wanting to know what they meant. And I was shocked. I knew that you had to be concerned about movies and TV, but I didn't have a clue that my 7-year-old would be exposed to inappropriate songs."
The goal of the PMRC was to give parents more control over what their children could listen to. As well as implementing a rating system for music with bad language, sexual themes, and anti-Christian messages just to name a few. Eventually the group made a list of the fifteen worst songs, in their opinion and labeled them "The Filthy Fifteen".
(And it also happens to make a killer playlist)
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Besides a rating system and lyrics printed on album covers the PMRC had several other goals including:
"...records with explicit covers be wrapped or kept under the counter; that record companies reassess contracts with performers who engage in sexual or violent acts on stage; that broadcasters be pressured to exhibit "voluntary restraint" by not airing offending music videos, which would also be rated."
All that noise coming from the PMRC culminated on September 19th, 1985. When a hearing in the senate occurred. Two musicians were called in on behalf of the music industry, Frank Zappa and Dee Snider of Twisted Sister. Two of musics most studious and serious creatives.
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Zappa and Snider both gave eloquent defenses of what they deemed to be free speech.
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But the PMRC had a trick up their sleeves... or so they thought.
They'd also invited John Denver to speak that day, assuming that he would stand with the side of "family values" but they were mistaken.
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John Denver's testimony was the most scathing that day. He cited his own experience with having some of his music banned from radio. Even going as far as comparing the PMRC and groups like it to Nazi book burnings.
So what did the PMRC end up accomplishing? You know those tiny explicit labels in the corner of some albums? You can thank the PMRC for those. When they were originally introduced they were called "Tipper Stickers" after one of more outspoken PMRC members Tipper Gore (wife of Al Gore).
So while we didn't exactly take it, for a time we almost did. And thanks to testimony from Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Dee Snider, we can regularly enjoy any kind of music we want to- even the songs that promote the occult.
Both photographs come from Mark Weiss who photographed the event for Rock Scene Magazine.
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with-my-calamitous-love · 1 month ago
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JAMES DEAN DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYES ♫
rockstar! chuuya x popstar! reader
part 2/3
smut! you are responsible for what you read 💿
at an award show, the press make many speculations about your rising fame and your relationship with the infamous rockstar, chuuya nakahara.
inspired by style
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midnight.
if there was an award show, chuuya was going. he was one of the youngest, most awarded rockstars ever. he's charming and handsome, with hands that play his guitar like a god. not to mention his sanguine voice coupled with his broody, meaningful lyrics. he was the subject of every teenage girl's heart.
he was a man that reveled in the fame, charming fans and interviewers alike. but for the most part, he insisted on letting the world watch him act. he knows damn well what the music industry can do to a star, and he's determined to rise above that.
still, every now and then theres a question that makes his gorgeous smirk falter.
"chuuya nakahara! can you tell us who you've been dating?"
"mr. nakahara! what do you have to say about moving on too fast?"
"chuuya! is it true you've started a relationship with Y/N L/N?"
he takes a deep breath. just dissassociate, and smile for the press. its what he does best. "i think some things are best left unsaid. right now, i'm focusing on my album, out november 1st."
the news of his new music is enough to distract adoring fans from his love life, instead heading the questions towards what he does best. all eyes are on him, orange hair slicked back and a loose, white classic shirt. his ability to look stunning despite the pressure brought upon by prying eyes is nothing short of remarkable.
he hears a lot about his newest music video, smiling every time he hears your name come up. the video you two had released sky-rocketed your name, and chuuya's just happy he could help. this time, he can genuinely smile- only when his mind flickers back to the acted, fake, and nothing more than a staged kiss. right?
funny how a fabricated kiss scene made his heart swell for weeks after.
its the first time he's felt that since his last relationship.
even though he's escaped, theres still people who speak on his past relationship, and evidently his past wrongdoings. for a moment there, it seems everyone believed he was a cheating bastard. that he was an unfaithful player who wanted woman like they were trophies. and for a minute, he was.
the fame had gotten to him. singing for thousands of fans, wining trophies and having his name on headlines made the rockstar believe he was invincible. but he wasn't. turns out too many shots of tequila and almost kissing a blonde girl he thought was his girlfriend can really mess up a rockstar. and it did.
the constant speculations on his relationship status made him sweat with anxiety. he fucked up and he knew it. he wasn't happy in his relationship, and found himself wishing for different in the end, but thats never an excuse to cheat. though he never did the deed, that almost was enough. there were reports and witnesses, enough for the media to take it and run. for months, his pr team worked day and night to keep the story at a minimum. and their efforts were surprisingly valiant, with higuchi choosing to stay quiet about the whole situation. chuuya never figured out why, even after their inevitable breakup, but he was thankful none the less.
somehow, you managed not to hear of the entire situation. maybe thats why chuuya was so eager to rope you into his life.
soon, he was no longer on fire. after a long waiting period, he was free to be adored again, leading him to make his music video with you, the same video that brought him back to this very award show, and the video that made him wish he could be next to you right now.
his anxiety is flaring up. he's still worried his career could go down in flames, that he'll never escape his monumental fuck up. that everything he's worked for won't be worth it if his guilt and regrets aren't monetized.
after a few short kisses and hugs, chuuya escapes to a private room, designated for singers and celebrities attending the show. the room is empty, with everyone already out there and dazzling the fans. everyone except you.
he blinks when he sees you touching up your bangs in the mirror. he knows that nervous shake in your hands all too well. this could end in burning flames or paradise.
he approaches, clearing his throat.
you immediately turn around, seeing him. his blue eyes are immediately drawn into your red lips- just what he likes
"you look nice." he utters, coming up next to you and adjusting his own appearance in the mirror. you had been in here for quite some time, bracing you and your pop-princess persona to get out there. somehow, chuuya senses this.
"this your first event?" he asks, blue eyes flickering to you. you nervously chuckle, almost wanting to lie but immediately knowing he'd call your bluff. "yeah... something like that."
he finds this endearing. and maybe he just wants to be close to you, to help you or because he's a god damn gentlemen, he silently wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out of the room.
the fact that this is your first time being so close to the paparazzi is not lost on chuuya. he studies your face, the way you answer questions so genuienely and so excitedly. he knows they wanna ruin your pretty face, and he prays your strong enough to overcome it.
he's so mesmerized by you he doesn't even notice the way photographers and interviewers are freaking out at the fact that chuuya nakahara and Y/N L/N just walked out on the carpet at the exact same time, fueling the already circulating rumors. he knows that they'll have a field day with tonight, but for once, he doesn't seem to mind. maybe because it's with you.
the two of you walk off, enjoying a few drinks and chatting. you've known chuuya nakahara: the rockstar. but now, you've been getting to know chuuya. the guy who loves small dogs, fancy hats and taylor swift. the guy who has the most embarrassing real laugh that he hides from the media. the guy who likes to stalk his own fanpages, and who can't say no to a signature.
and after a few more drinks and some soft arm touching, the two of you clammer into his limousine and speed off to his penthouse.
✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚
the media likes to believe they know everything about you and chuuya.
they’re convinced you two dating, that you’re using him for fame and that he’s moving on too fast from his relationship. that you’re not pretty or talented enough for him, or that he’s just a passing thought for you.
what they don’t know is that his head is between you thighs, eating you out like a god damn dessert.
your shaky hands fly to his hair, tugging at him while his lips work their magic. he’s fluid and elegant, yet rough while we works you through yet another orgasm.
every now and then he’ll spit on you, mesmerized by the way it drips down your already gushing pussy. he reaches and maddeningly trails his fingers in a sloppy pattern, letting his essence coat you before diving back in. he’ll start with one long stripe going up the length of your pussy, savouring your cries before diving in.
he’s relentless, determined to make your toes curl and back arch. he’ll let the tip of his tongue trace circles around your clit, watching how it throbs. his thumbs move to part you even further, giving him better access to this meal.
he absolutely ravages you, leaving no part untouched as he tongue-fucks you. his grip tightens on your thighs as you finally cum again, letting him lap it all up like its second nature.
your body and mind are buzzing as chuuya makes his way back up with a trail of kisses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “told you i only needed 5 minutes.”
despite your flushed out face and spent, trembling thighs, you utter: “s-shut up.”
he laughs, sitting up and getting you some water. his bedsheets are luxurious, as you wrap your naked body in them. when he returns, he sets it down on the beside and lazily lays next to you, lying on his stomach. his back looks great like this, all his muscles on display.
but you can’t shake something you overheard.
“did you really cheat on her?”
he blinks. of course you’d bring that up after having sex.
he sighs, knowing this was only a matter of time. he shouldn’t feel so guilty. he didn’t actually cheat, though he was close to it. some would argue the intent is betrayal enough.
you’re not sure how to feel. rumours are just rumours, especially in the celebrity world. but you want to know if the man you’ve been falling for has a history of unfaithfulness.
he runs his hands through his air, barely being able to look you in the eye. “i.. came close to it.”
he wants to vomit, having to talk about it again.
you simply nod, seeing on your phone the already sparkling headlines about yours and chuuya’s love lives again. if you doom scroll long enough, they’re already reigniting the flame of his past relationship and how it ended.
you really hope this doesn’t end badly. for his sake and yours.
“are you mad?” he asks, thinking he already knows the answer. you pause for a moment. you’re angry, albeit only a little. most of that anger is towards yourself for not finding out sooner. you’re mostly just confused, if anything.
instead, you resolve to shake your head. “no, i’m not.”
and really, for a moment, you werent. the media was feasting off of something new. those that chose to rehash the past were less popular. the people wanted to see whats new, whats flashy and whats dazzling. right now, its you and chuuya together.
“what does this mean for us?” you hesitantly whisper, sliding down into the bedsheets to see him better. truthfully, neither of you know. the only thing thats clear are the feelings you share for one another.
he simply shrugs. “i’m gonna drag you down, doll. you’re a star. don’t let me do that to you.”
what hurts the most is that he’s right, even if its only a little. but you’re either an idiot, or in love. maybe both.
“..thats okay.” you smile, resolving to put love first, music second.
oh, how you’d come to regret that.
but you don’t relent when he pulls you into his arms, covering you two with the bedsheets. phones are tossed somewhere on the bed, and the penthouse keeping the two of you private. right now, you two could be together in secret. let them call it what they want.
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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago
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Propaganda
Ginger Rogers (Swing Time, Top Hat)—Look I’ll level with you, I’ve never seen her in a musical and I know that she’s an amazing dancer and she’ll be even hotter when I finally watch Top Hat but I’m not submitting her as a dancer I’m submitting her as an ACTRESS. Her comic timing is impeccable!!!!! She’s full to bursting with life and in every role she seems to be having FUN, you can practically feel the twinkle in her eye. With her natural warmth it’s like she’s letting you in on the joke, y’all get to have this fun together! Making me laugh is hot!!! [If you'd like to see Ginger dance, videos below the cut]
Dorothy Lamour (The Jungle Princess, Road to… movies)—Ok, to be honest, I get if no one wants to vote for her--she's kind of like my ~problematic fave~ because she started in the Road (Singapore, Bali, Hong Kong, etc) movies with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which are full of all sorts of exoticism tropes and usually have her playing very side-eye type roles..island princesses and things...yeah. also she banged J. Edgar Hoover. not very hot. but your honor i still think she's pretty despite all that she's pretty please look at her and tell me she's prettyyy
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Dorothy Lamour propaganda:
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She started in jungle and South Seas movies and became famous in the Road series. She learned quickly to improvise when facing Bob and Bing. Road to Bali almost has her character marrying both of theirs, since she's island royalty and nobody had a problem with it - a nearly poly relationship, an epiphany for a viewer who didn't even know that that could happen! She was a popular pinup girl during World War 2, and was the first singer for the popular standard "It Could Happen to You". She sang often in her movies and has a lovely voice!
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Ginger Rogers propaganda:
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She needs no introduction! An undeniable powerhouse on the dancefloor, and no less talented an actress. I once watched a compilation of cinema's greatest dance scenes and one of her and Fred Astaire's dances was featured, and one of the talking heads said he pitied her for 'having to keep up with him' - or something to that effect. Bullshit, I cry. Ginger Rogers was his absolute equal, and underplaying her incredible skill is downright criminal. I want the 'Cheek to Cheek' sequence from Top Hat to be permanently burned into my memory.
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"Backwards in high heels", as the saying goes (though the pedant in me must point out that she in fact spent her fair share of time leading or dancing side-by-side). One of the earliest twinkle-toed ladies of the silver screen, and in terms of acting/persona, her balance of wide-eyed cuteness and movie-star glamour has never quite been replicated.
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we all know her beloved string of musicals with fred but ginger also has an extensive and varied non-fred filmography that she's great in! a few ginger moments that are important 2 me personally ginger singing “we’re in the money” in gold diggers of 1933, complete with a verse in pig latin bc this whole movie is kinda mocking the concept of anyone actually being in the money in 1933; ginger and una merkel singing a verse of “shuffle off to buffalo” in 42nd street, providing some statler & waldorf-esque commentary on newlyweds from the upper berth of a railway car (interesting that belly was apparently a risque word in 1933 - maybe its bc the lyric is innuendo-ing about out of wedlock pregnancies - and that panties was a term for men’s underthings!); a favorite fred & ginger number
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Ginger Rogers could do everything! She could sing, dance and act. She was hilarious in comedies, moving in dramatic roles (she won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940) and absolutely gorgeous!
Listen, no shade to Fred Astaire at all, but she both kept up with him step for step and then later went on to WIN AN OSCAR FOR ACTING. (which he did not.) truly a double threat!!!
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One of the best dancers in Hollywood! Her work with Fred Astaire is just incredible.
ONE LINE: "Everything Fred did, Ginger did backwards and in heels" AND THEYRE RIGHT! Rogers was a total dance badass, and a lot of movie buffs know the story, but the Never Gonna Dance number from Swing Time took almost 50 takes, and allegedly by the end of filming it her white shoes had been stained pink because her feet were bleeding. As a note, she looks crazy gorgeous in this number. Watching these two dance is insane. They match up to each other in a way my mom describes as "divine" and she's right. DANCE NUMBERS!
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Let's Call The Whole Thing Off (Shall We Dance, 1937, dancing starts at 3:14, they're in ROLLERSKATES)
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(Ginger Rogers is the hottest woman ever to live in this number. seeing this as a teenager altered my brain chemistry)
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(also watch her feet and how she moves opposite Astaire in this one. We all know our boy Freddie had that precision demon but jesus christ Miss Rogers, let a girl live!)
Pick Yourself Up, Swing Time 1936 (Everyone's seen this one but by god you are going to see it AGAIN!)
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Shall We Dance, 1937 (duet begins at 2:34)
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Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Roberta 1935 (There's just something about Ginger Rogers in a slick black dress man)
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The Continental, The Gay Divorcee 1934 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjv6nmF7wdk God she's MAGIC in this one.
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Gay Divorcee's Ending Montage 1934The infamous table and chairs spin happens at about 0:49. Pay CLOSE attention to her in this bc it looks like witchcraft and I feel lightheaded whenever I watch this movie bc shes THAT awesome.
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She is a miracle to watch. Sorry for the sheer amount of clips. My entire family is like madly in love with Ginger Rogers.
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cacoetheswriting · 9 months ago
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honesty: the music video
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.
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“We want it to be sexy.”
“But not too sexy.”
“Revealing.”
“But not too revealing.”
“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.
You stifle a giggle.
“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”
“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”
At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.
“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.
-
Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.
All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.
A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?
Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 
Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 
The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.
Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 
Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.
Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.
Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 
Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.
Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.
By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.
Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…
Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.
A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 
“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.
“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 
“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”
Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 
“I had fun today.”.
“Me too.”
There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 
Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 
“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.
Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 
His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.
The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”
“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.
He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.
“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.
In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”
You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.
Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 
“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”
You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.
“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”
“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.
Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 
Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 
“Where do you want me baby?”
“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”
“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 
Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 
“Please, Eddie.” 
Slap.
“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”
That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.
His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.
Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.
“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”
“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.
Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”
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celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference
& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)
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kleine-joost · 2 months ago
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After Midnight 18+ MDNI
Joost Klein x AFAB Reader
'Cause everything good happens after midnight.
WARNINGS: THIS IS RPF! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, MOVE ON! drinking, smoking, piv sex, umm yeah
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You didn’t go clubbing very often. It just wasn’t really your scene, only when you were begged to tag along by friends on special occasions would you make the effort to get all dolled up and wear one of the three dresses you owned that could pass at club appropriate.
And all of these nights would start out the same, a nightmare. With music too loud, people surrounding you that were too sweaty and apparently had no regard for personal space. But you always obliged in your own personal hell for your friends. 
You laughed while you watched your group drunkenly scream the lyrics to The Spice Girls’ Wannabe from your spot against the wall near the dancefloor. They were coaxing you to join them, but you were overly aware of your presence in the club, and you worried about the stares you would get. You knew it was silly, and arguably conceited, to think you would be watched, but you were right.
~
Joost watched you as you walked in, and when you ordered your first drink–a gin and soda with a splash of lemonade–and then your second. He stood not far from you, waiting for you to finish that glass so he could offer to buy you a third, before anyone else could get the chance. It was like everything stopped when he first saw you, the universe slowed as his eyes scanned your face, your body, and your hands which were shaking with anxiety. He was sure you hadn’t even looked at him yet, if you did he somehow missed it. Maybe this was just one of those moments when the universe dangles an opportunity in your face, only to take it away so it would only exist in some alternate timeline. Like that movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, only hopefully much happier.
~
You were beginning to feel a buzz that upped your confidence at around halfway through your second drink. When the DJ played Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA you couldn’t help but take the hand of one of your friends as you were dragged into the circle they had all formed in your corner of the floor. Your feet and shins ached as the song finished, and your face was flushed from all the excited jumping you did–which was pretty much the only dance move you could do in the crowded club. With adrenaline, you burst into a fit of laughter while trying to catch your breath and downed the last few fingers of your drink. The lights in the building were beginning to blur, you leant into the comfort of it, and the warmth in your chest from the gin.
~
Joost was sure this was just about as close as he could get to love without coming across as a total creep. Your smile was so infectious, he couldn’t hear your laugh over the loud music but he was sure it was just as beautiful as the rest of you. His heart felt like it was going into palpitations, he needed a cigarette to calm down.
~
Your energy was slowly depleting after your brief exertion. You needed a moment to yourself, you told your friends you were going for a smoke–not a regular vice for you but when you drank, the two went one after the other for you. You really didn’t want to have to go and buy a packet of cigs, you never liked to commit to infirmities. You were praying you’d find someone kind enough to lend you a smoke just this once. 
The air was cold in the small courtyard, you were surprised you couldn’t see your breath when you let out a long sigh at the heat immediately escaping your body. There were only a few other people outside; a couple in the midst of an argument (from what you could gather she apparently looked at another guy the wrong way and her boyfriend was not happy about it) and a guy, about your age, scrolling on his phone while he smoked. You saw under his heavy jacket he was wearing a white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ ABBA’. It made you chuckle just a bit to yourself, you wondered if he went as wild as you did not ten minutes beforehand. The angry couple’s screams were getting louder and louder, so you figured he was your best bet.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you…” He looked up from his phone when you spoke, there was a look you could almost read as surprise in his eyes. Some of the bluest eyes you think you’d ever seen, but maybe it was just the lighting out there. “Could I bum a smoke from you?”
You gave your best kicked puppy smile, well the best you could with the buzz that was now sitting in the base of your neck.
He nodded ardently, and opened the pack in his hand and held it out to you. You took one and placed it between your lips, he was quick to leap off the brick retaining wall he was leaning on to light the cigarette.
Nothing beat that first drag on a night out. You closed your eyes as you felt your bones get lighter. Exhaling, you muttered a ‘thanks’ to the blond stranger.
“No problem,” he smiled. 
You stayed standing near him, trying to ignore the argument which was now unravelling into an incident that happened last New Years. You saw the kind stranger’s eyes dart from his phone to you every so often, and back to his phone when he realised you’d caught him. You were sure it was the alcohol that was giving you the confidence. 
Eventually the lovebirds took their quarrel back inside, leaving you and the stranger in its wake. You both let out a laugh once you were alone, something about that awkwardness had bonded the two of you. Like the groups of strangers who get stuck in elevators, you imagine.
Through the giggles, you didn’t notice yourself moving closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. You weren’t sure if he noticed either, at least until you both calmed down enough to breathe again.
You quickly pondered the options, and that newfound confidence decided to pitch in again. You kept your hand on his arm, leaning against the wall next to him.
“I-I’m Joost,” he stuttered out after a moment.
When you introduced yourself, he repeated your name. Though not to you, more like he was trying out how it sounded in his mouth. It must’ve been good, he hung his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer. 
A few people emerged from the dark room for a smoke, and you utilised your new closeness, now more so whispering (well, a loud whisper) in each other's ears while you finished your cigarette.
You asked him about his shirt, he laughed and told you he had no shame in loving Abba. And he asked if you were with friends, and when you said yes he told you he was as well.
Part of you didn’t want to leave his side, you felt so comfortable with him so quickly. But when you heard the start of Americano by Lady Gaga, a bolt of excitement ran through your bones. You frantically stubbed out the rest of your cigarette and grabbed Joost’s hand, pulling him with you to your group of friends who had gotten increasingly messier in the time it took you to smoke. Each of them eyed Joost as you pulled him against your body to dance.
~
He was nervous, at the very least. At the most, his heart was beating out of his chest and he could barely keep control of his limbs. He could smell your perfume as you moved around him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
He placed two soft hands on your hips, swaying with you as you both got lost in the music. That was the routine for the next few songs that played.
~
In lulls, he was introduced to each of your friends, with an explanation of how you had met. One of his hands stayed permanently on the small of your back as you went to the bar to order another drink–which he insisted on paying for. Joost’s friends approached you as you waited for the bartender to make your drink and he was more than happy to introduce you to them all. The feeling of him proudly introducing you, and telling them all about you made you giddy. They were all friendly, and happy to try to embarrass Joost as much as possible by telling you stories from when he was a dumb teenager.
A lively conversation eventually started in the group, and you were missing a lot of the context of the inside jokes being quipped. You could see your friends on the other side of the room, from the looks of it, none of them were far off being ready to leave. You decided to cut your losses and peel off of Joost’s hand and make your way back.
As soon as you took a step away from him, Joost immediately resigned from the conversation and looked at you, worried.
“Where are you going?” He whispered in your ear while you were still just in reach of him.
“I’m going back to my friends,” you answered. “Keep talking, though, have fun!”
He gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read. Maybe confusion? Hurt? Sadness, even? Without another thought he interrupted the story that his friend, Lyon, was telling.
“See you guys later, alright?” He grabbed your hand and said quick goodbyes to all his friends, each of them telling you it was great to meet you.
Only when he was walking you back to our group of friends did you manage to tell him, “you didn’t have to come with me, you could’ve kept talking.”
He hummed in response. “I talk to them all the time, I’d rather be with you.”
You couldn’t hide your smile, you hadn’t ever met someone so sweet. You eyed your friends beginning to all walk with limps, which was the universal symbol for ‘these shoes are making my feet hurt and I need to go home right now’.
 “I think we’ll be heading off soon if you want to come with us?” You asked, you knew it was forward but the third drink you’d just downed made it difficult to care.
“Like to your place?” He asked in a gentle voice you could barely hear over the music–if not for the fact that his face was buried deep in your shoulder as you both swayed to the music with his arm over your shoulder.
“Or yours. If you want.” You smiled at him. His eyes softened, and his smile got wider. You felt a burning in your body that could only be read as anticipation of what the rest of the night had in store. 
He nodded, nervously. “Yeah, I-I’d like that.”
You liked the idea that you made him nervous. It somehow made you more and more confident the more you saw his face blush when you caught him looking at you, and his indecisive hands placed on your back, your hips, and in yours. Something about him made you want to trust him. Like when he helped all your friends find their purses and phones and whatever else they didn’t want to leave in the club before you all departed, and helped each of you down the steps of the entrance of the old concrete building. He even gave you his jacket when he felt you shiver on the walk to the Avondwinkel down the street, you tried to protest but he was adamant. It smelt like cigarette smoke mixed with some kind of musky cologne, it was comforting. 
The inside of the small convenience store was just as packed as the club, full of people buying every snack and drink they could think of. The shop owner was being a good sport about it though, he had some techno pop song you were vaguely familiar with playing over the shop’s speakers and he was talking to every person who approached his counter, asking about their night and making sure they were all okay.
Throughout it all, Joost barely left your side; when you were paying for your packet of gummy worms and bottle of Pepsi, as your group sat on the curb outside for some fresh air, when you called the Uber to your apartment, and in the car on the way there.
In the backseat you tried to focus on anything other than his hand resting heavy on your thigh for fear that you would commit a felony in pouncing on him right there and begging him to have his way with you. It was quite busy on the roads, surprisingly, so it took much longer than expected to get to your little apartment building with its rickety lift that you didn’t dare use, always opting for the stairs. 
Your buzz had died down, mostly, now you were just feeling tired. You rested your head on Joost’s shoulder, feeling that flutter inside you that was becoming all too familiar when he laid his head on top of yours. You both were silent, letting the driver continue his phone conversation in a language you couldn’t understand and listening to the faint radio playing some late night discussion show. It all felt so comfortable, like you’d known each other forever and this was just another night. You wondered if it was a fluke or if this was something truly special.
Joost rested his hand on your thigh. It could’ve just been an innocent gesture, but you knew not when you turned your head to be able to look at his face. A grin, but with no eye contact. 
Two can play at this game, you thought. You placed your hand on top of his and slid it ever so slightly up the bare skin of your thigh. You heard him try to stifle a gasp, you were winning.
At the next set of lights, he lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. You got a tingle through your skin, he was painstakingly close to your lips. His face didn’t move, just apart from yours. All you would need to do is–
Before you could finish your thought, he had leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second with the shock of processing what was happening, but quickly shuffled to a more comfortable position for your neck. 
The kiss quickly deepened, you opened your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. You shuffled as close as you could to each other, until there was absolutely no room in between you both and your seatbelts were threatening suffocation.
Joost made you feel lightheaded, you weren’t sure why–or how. It was a blur from the car to your apartment. 
Your skin was burning under his touch as he held onto you while you struggled with the sticky lock on your door. Like floodgates, your door opened and the two of you poured into your tiny home. 
He kissed you again once you closed the door. This one was…much more tender, like you both suddenly had the realisation that all this lead-up was heading somewhere and it wasn’t just something you could fantasise about later when you were alone and horny. His jacket–which you were still wearing–got pushed off your shoulders and abandoned on the floor while he left wet, hungry kisses across your neck, your shoulder, just at the hem of your low-cut shirt.
A haze came over you as you looked over his body, arms littered with tattoos and chest hair that was just a shade or so darker than the hair on his head. You had the most primal urge to just devour him.
It was a blur, you both hurried to your bedroom in a rush of clothes being torn off your burning, sweating bodies. Your hands began to explore every inch of each other as you made yourself comfortable on your double-sized bed, all that you could fit in the small room.
He hovered over you, holding himself up with one hand next to your head, kissing a gentle line from your lips to your cheek and to your ear.
“Please, Liefje…” He whispered, his warm breath made all the blood rush to your ear–you were sure it had reddened. “Please let me fuck you.”
You practically melted at that. He was still wearing his boxers, you were sure if they had come off in the flurry of clothes he wouldn’t have had to ask. Your hand inched its way closer to his waistband, gently running your fingers over his abdomen. You watched him with unwavering confidence as he shivered at your touch. It only spurred you on further.
Your fingers drifted below the waistband. You slowly, agonisingly ran your hand down the length of his cock. He was already half-hard, though you could barely talk–you’d been feeling that burning ache in your pussy since the car. You could feel his slick precum, making your torture even more excruciating for him.
You watched Joost’s face. His thick-framed glasses had been discarded on your nightstand so you could properly look into his eyes, see his furrowed brows. He let out a small, guttural moan as you ran your hand over his tip. You could feel him growing harder and harder in your hand.
You kissed him again, and whispered to him. “You ready now?”
He nodded urgently, so you released him from your grasp. Part of him felt the excitement of what was next, but he also painfully missed your touch.
“Do you have any rubbers?” He asked.
You shook your head. You didn’t do this sort of thing very often, you just didn’t have the need for them.
“I have one in my wallet.” He sprung up from his spot on your bed and stumbled out of the room to retrieve his pants that were left in the hallway. 
You didn’t have to wait long for him to return, metallic wrapper in hand.
“Wishful thinking or are you just very confident?” You asked, a smirk across your face.
He scoffed as he flopped back next to you. “Just well prepared, Liefje.”
Joost quickly discarded his boxers and rolled the condom on. Finally, as the tip of his cock rubbed against the slick of your core, you let out a rasping moan that only dragged on as he slowly slid into.
He was bigger than you were used to, but the pressure was sort of comforting, in a way. He waited a moment to let you adjust, your breathing deepened as he placed two soft kisses on your cheeks. You were burning for him. You gave him the green light to start moving.
He started slowly, easing you both into it. But when he heard the soft mewls coming from you with each thrust, he couldn’t help but thrust faster and faster.
Soon the room was a cacophony of both your moans and the sound of skin on skin. Joost’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, you felt every sticky breath he let out as a sheen of sweat collected on your bodies.
He could have been fucking you for hours, you wouldn’t know–each thrust, each slam into you felt like an eternity. You could feel your core begin to tighten, on instinct you reached to your clit, gently massaging it. 
You heard Joost tut at you when he saw what you were doing. He grabbed your wrist and halted your movement. “Let me, Baby.”
It felt like electricity coursing through your veins with Joost’s fingers rubbing your clit and his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper. You were so close to the edge.
“Mmmh… don’t… stop…” You managed to stutter out between moans.
You could tell Joost was close as well. You both carried on, closer and closer…
A rush of cold and warmth and everything in between ran over you as you came. You released an almost primal moan as your body froze in its tracks. 
Joost was still slowly thrusting, panting into your neck, his skin growing red from the exertion.
“Keep going,” you mumbled into his ear. “Come for me…please.”
It took only a few more small pumps for a low groan to erupt from his throat, emptying into the condom. You let him breathe for a moment, before placing a gentle hand on the back of his neck and directing him to face you. He had a couple droplets of now-cold sweat on the bridge of his nose, you wiped them off with your other hand, smiling when he let out a light giggle. You simply weren’t expecting a noise like that out of the man who was still inside you.
“You’re incredible, Liefje,” he sighed.You place a gentle kiss on his lips. “And you’re perfect.”
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stormcloudrising · 4 months ago
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Listened to the full lyrics of Long Face and I love them, and I have some random thoughts on the lyrics. Interesting meaning behind the words with the piano analogy.
The words are obviously meant to represent Lestat’s thoughts about Louis, and what I find interesting is that they see each other the same way. Makes me wonder who wrote the song. Did Lestat write it to put himself in Louis shoes in an attempt to understand him, or in response to the scene from Season 1 episode 2 after Louis kills the agent and they burn the body.
Louis sees their differences in terms of the world they live in and how others see them. Creole/French; Black man/white man; Queer/????? Etc. Lestat on the other hand sees their differences in more idolized romantic terms…basically how they see each other not how the world sees them.
Or was the song written as a duet with maybe Louis also writing Lestat a letter with the latter putting it to music. It’s a tin foil idea but the lyrics sound almost how Louis would describe the two of them…not the other way around.
If you asked Louis how he saw Lestat, he would say that he was filled with fire and energy. And it turns out that’s how Lestat sees Louis. Fire to his calmer self (LOL). But then again, you never see yourself the way others see you.
On the other hand, Lestat is always questing for love and so on that level, the lyrics do makes sense. The song also matches up to his thoughts about Louis when he first sees him pull a knife on Paul. And while Lestat always wants to test the boundaries, he’s always been lonely, which definitely matches up to how he sees himself in the song. Louis fills the void in him.
The lyrics are all about two pianos creating a harmonious sound. Makes me wonder if that’s what he was practicing with his board and Siri. Was he writing the lyrics then. Lestat sees them as opposites who together create the perfect sound.
I’m piano (quiet)
And you’re forte (loud and strong)
You’re Allegro (lively)
I’m Andante (slow or moderate pace)
We’re Bolero (here he’s talking about Ravel’s Bolero, which is basically a repeated melody that builds and builds to include the entire orchestra. It was also originally published as a piano duet.
He’s also saying that his stage persona is not him. He’s an actor wearing makeup. Louis knows the real him but Louis keeps running and he’s calling him out on it. It also interesting that he says “I get fatter, when we breakup.” That suggests some type of spiraling on his part when he and Louis break up. He gets fatter on the blood. The Rock Documentary is for Louis.
I’m very interested to see where season three starts because the lyrics almost sound like they got back together and Louis did one of his bunker like in the books and just disappeared.
Of course, the song is likely just an encapsulation of their relationship as it will be covered going forward and not about any specific off screen event. If so, we’re in for a treat.
Season 3 can’t get here soon enough for me.
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girlfromthecrypt · 4 months ago
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Note: This is merely a pitch introduction post. My main project remains Such Happy Campers. I have no title in mind for this IF (suggestions are welcome), although I am very passionate about the idea and will work on it on the side while I write SHC.
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You are... or were one of the most famous yet mysterious characters in the 21st century pop-rock scene. 
It all started when you discovered your love for singing during an extended stay at a psychiatric hospital as a teen. Music became your motivator, and from then on, you knew the stage was where you belonged. Your friends agreed… and that is how your band came to be. After years of practice in your friend’s mother’s garage and cheap gigs at dingy bars, your journey to the top begins abruptly when you team up with a skilled manager.
It's a meteoric rise— until it isn’t. 
And now, a decade after your band has withdrawn from the public eye, you’ve accepted an interview by the acclaimed Groove Magazine. You and your former band members have agreed to give them the truth, the whole truth; as ugly as that might be. 
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Follow the story of your band’s rise to fame (and eventual fall from grace)
Play as a pop-rock vocalist
Name your band and customize your music, lyrics and image
Handle the media, interactions with pushy fans and your own repressed thoughts and fears 
Romance your coolgirl-bassist, the childhood friend you cut out of your life, your absolutely insane guitarist, or your biggest fan/stalker
Give one hell of an interview
Inspiration: Daisy Jones and The Six, Fleetwood Mac
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TW: themes of mental illness, substance abuse, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation and self-harm, unhealthy relationship dynamics
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ROs:
Stevie McLaughlin, bassist (f) — “I suppose I was the sanest one in that bunch.”
She’s one of your oldest friends, and if you follow the clanking chain of cause and effect all the way back to the beginning, it is her you have to thank for your entire career. The band was her idea, after all. She’s level-headed, composed, and always there to talk you down when you need her. Sometimes, she acts more as your retainer than anything else…
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Paul/Paulette Zima, lead singer & saxophonist (f/m selectable, trans) — “Trying to figure out where you know me from?”
Your band’s brand-new, second lead singer. Your manager says they’re going to give your music the kick it needs, that they’re the one missing ingredient to your success. You’re not entirely sure if you agree. Worse yet, you happen to know this person, and your time together didn’t end on a favorable note. They’re part of a past you would much rather forget. 
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Angel Monsanto, guitarist (m) — “I was always going to make it big, with or without those guys. Only, I… I really wanted it to be with them.”
Your crazy but good-hearted guitarist. His passion for music borders on obsession, and he will stop at nothing to make a name for your band. Sadly, he’s very much of the conviction that all publicity is good publicity, which has encouraged him to pull some very questionable stunts in the past. 
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Lincoln Saunders, groupie?? (f/m selectable) — “What can I say, I loved them. When they first walked out onto that stage, it felt like my heart was going to explode.”
Calling Lincoln a fan would be an understatement. Fanatic is more like it. You remember seeing them at your very first show, and you’ve continued to spot them at every venue you’ve played at since. You don’t know anything about them, and perhaps changing that would be a very bad idea. But maybe you still want to.
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Others:
Fatima Shah (f), drummer — “I’m pretty sure they tried to make me disappear with their fog machine.”
After things didn’t work out with your original drummer, Fatima saved the day. She’s a sweetheart to you, but from what you’ve heard, she can be kind of a terrible person. Maybe it’s best to stay a little wary of her.
Kalena Graham (f), manager — “The first time I saw them… well, they kind of sucked. But I knew, I just knew, that they had what it takes to suck on an international level.”
Your band’s manager. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have caught her attention. She’s experienced, driven, well-regarded in the industry and… kind of mean.
Simon Young (m), reporter — “Start at the beginning. And then, don’t stop.”
The guy conducting the interview for Groove Magazine. He’s nice enough, if a little starstruck. It seems he has been waiting a long time for this.
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[dividers by @thecutestgrotto]
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herejusttosufferalong · 3 months ago
Note
I think L gave us a lot of hints/messages about what might be going on post-premiere in that Jimmy F appearance. Let’s note that this was after Papgate, after his and N’s social media posts in the fallout period, and after Milan if I am remember correctly? The more I think about it the more I think his team crafted the content we saw to reset his public image, explain some things, and encourage the audience to give him some grace. It was damage control/positive PR/but also some explanations for what we are seeing.
First off, he came off relaxed and confident, a big contrast from how stressed he looked when he had been papped. I think they were also trying to portray him as a friendly and relatable regular guy who had suddenly been thrust into fame as a heartthrob and romantic lead.
Him running from the carriage scene music/talking about how he is not used to the level of fame and exposure and recognition that has come with the success of the show (barber story, needing security in Brazil).
The reference to JB passing down the guide that was called “How to fall in love in front of 82 million people” - more messaging that it is difficult to have that level of scrutiny and specifically when playing a romantic lead when you have insane chemistry with your costar.
The romantic lines, read B-ton style (these are so L/N coded and reference things L or N have brought up in interviews, with the exception of “East Peasy Lemon Squeezy.) We’ve got:
Espresso lyrics - song with significance to the ship, also what L was listening to getting ready for the London premiere, Honeybee, come get that pollen lyrics
“Penelope, we were on a break!” -this is the biggest hint right here of why L was papped/appears in a relationship with another woman after we have seen his and N’s chemistry jump off the screen for 6 months and also in the show itself. THEY (N/L) WERE ON A BREAK. I don’t think he wanted to be on a break, but they were, and I think they’re now on another one while he tries to get his affairs in order. And note that he says “Penelope,” not Rachel, which would be the accurate pop culture quote. Which doesn’t really make sense because he and P are never on a break during the show unless you count the time she stops writing to him and he goes off the rails. Penelope is code for N. Also he is referencing the R/R relationship/timing issues again.
Then the Barbie quote. I think this somewhat addresses him being attached to a strong beautiful powerful woman (LWD or N, take your pick) and that dynamic of potentially being overshadowed and having to find your own self worth in order to handle it . I don’t think that last part about being her Ken was scripted (JF even gives him a wtf look and then it gets cut when it airs), but he made it clear he is happy being her Ken. He basically claims his ass as hers on National TV without meaning to.
I think the interview didn’t have purposeful mention of N for a reason, he was trying to emphasize his role as a B-bro and an actor and romantic lead in his own right, and connect him to the other male leads, and the clip they chose showed that.
He then follows up with a social media post confirming a late night/non-work/non PR beach walk with N and said security guards. I mean… that was a date, and for him to post that in the face of everyone saying he had hard-launched A and he and N were “all PR” is crazy. They also have to be aware of all of the Brazil reports and speculation.
I think the messaging was: This is level of fame and exposure is new, he’s figuring it out, give him a break. Also, everything is okay between N&L so don’t worry, there may be reasons for why what we are seeing doesn’t make sense but they are figuring it out between them.
Would the general audience pick up on all of that? No, but the hardcore fans would so they layered it all in there. Maybe his PR team isn’t that dumb afterall?
I know there’s speculation N was there- I don’t know if she was but her immediate like definitely showed support and that they are still a team. Wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hand in some of that strategy.
I think this is the first in depth analysis I have ever seen on the JF appearance that I mostly agree with.
Thanks for sharing 💜🥃
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