#Pop Smoke Merch
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Related Article: Vlone Pop Collection
#vlone pop#vlone tshirt#vlone hoodie#vlone merch#vlone pants#vlone smoke shop#vlone jackets#vlone#vlone hats#vlone pop hoodies#pop seatshirt
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Headcanons for Chris being with a girl w a completely different music taste than him 🤭 I'm thinking she's taking him to metal concerts, alternative stores w all kinds of shirts and belts and leather, overall how do you think that would go, his reactions at first and all 🙏
okay i tweaked the request just a bit but i hope it still suffices!
chris x music lover!gf
-we all know chris loves music very much
-so when he meets you and you guys start dating he’s absolutely ecstatic to find out you do too
-the difference between chris and you is that while he can enjoy any type of music if it really appeals to him, you genuinely love every type
-exchanging playlists is a must!
-“baby! i made you a playlist.”
-“another one?” he smiles fondly.
-“yes but this one is for that specific outfit you wore when we went to the beach. like it just inspired me.”
-you’re always dragging him to record stores and to hunt for vintage cds for your collections
-he loves going to your apartment because it’s full to the BRIM with posters of your favorite artists, guitar picks, tour setlists— the whole nine
-he typically gets you concert tickets for holidays, anniversaries and your birthday because it’s what you spend most of your money on anyway
-he loves going with you to them because he loves to see you in your element. singing the songs with your whole heart, dancing to the music and smiling so big it makes him the happiest he’s ever been
-one time, at a concert for an artist you’d loved for many, many years, he caught you mumbling along to a song that resonated with you deeply. there were tears streaming down your face as you held your phone with shaky hands. he took the phone out of them, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. when you looked at him confused, eyes red but makeup still in tact, he says, “just be here, right now, ma. i know how much this means to you. i got this.”
-you didn’t think you could love him any fucking more than that moment.
-he constantly proves you wrong though. he’s just good like that.
-sometimes there are certain artists and songs chris really can’t get behind, mostly your metal/pop punk/ punk rock bands but it doesn’t stop him from trying
-“well… i’m glad you like it, baby.”
-he’s always getting you merch
-for your first anniversary he got you matching guitar pick necklaces that were engraved and you loved it so much you made sure to show him just how much
-listening to music together is one of your favorite things to do
-you’re sitting on his bed, music playing from his tv. sometimes you’re smoking a joint, you draped over his lap while you pass it back and forth and exchange lazy kisses.
-sometimes you’re jumping around, dancing together while laughing manically while the tv is blasting, matt and nick trying to bust the door down because of the volume
-“chris! turn that shit the fuck down or i swear to god i’m going to beat the fuck out of you!”
-you never listen
-the next morning is full of scowls but usually it’s you making breakfast so they’re fine
-sometimes, your favorite times, you’ll be reading and chris will be working on something while sitting in bed together, music playing softly in the background. a song will come on and he’ll look over at you, admiring you. when you notice, you raise an eyebrow. “what?” he shakes his head. “nothing. i just love you is all.”
-and because even after all this time, chris still manages to make you feel like he’s looking at you for the first time, you feel your face heat. “stop it.” you say, knocking your shoulder with his. he smiles, that smile made only for you. his eyes are soft, so soft that every look feels like the special kisses he gives you when it’s just you two in a room. “this song reminds me of you every time i hear it. sometimes when you’re away i play it and the distance feels better.”
-you pull his face to you so fast, interlocking your lips and pour every single emotion into the kiss. “i love you.” you repeat it like a mantra, just to make sure he really knows.
-he does. “i think that’s my favorite song.”
#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo texts#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine
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More evil head cannons
I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob
PONY:
Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out
Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever
Actually really good at drawing
Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice
Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.
Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams
Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling
Steve taught him how to drive
He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between
He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it
His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad
He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back
He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents
He and Darry have matching reading glasses
SODA:
He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble
He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times
Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks
He steals from the DX station constantly
He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over
A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them
He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up
Absolute candy addict
Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX
He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined
He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud
He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between
He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years
He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him
DARRY:
He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them
All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)
He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time
He sneezes like a dad
He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately
Loves compliments and words of affection
Doing favors is his love language
He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom
His tan ends where his pants start
Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know
He has a fear of abandonment
He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease
He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight
He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax
He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly
When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age
A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little
He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day
He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive
TWO-BIT:
He and Dally bond by harassing women
He has a box full of things he’s stolen
His slight alcoholism stems from his father
He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly
He gets his nails painted before rumbles
He watches soap operas with his mother every night
He can play the trumpet
He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen
He listens to metal
When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father
Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do
He constantly forgets to brush his teeth
Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water
He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt
Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin
Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids
Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him
He broke both of his elbows once
His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student
STEVE:
He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets
He uses the most hair grease out of everyone
He has had the same comb for 3 years
He constantly smells like oil
The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands
He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence
He is terrified of the police
He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers
His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up
He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands
He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos
He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit
He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces
Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together
He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose
JOHNNY:
He’s dyslexic
His handwriting is atrocious
His best subject is math
He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches
He loves sleeping around his friends
His hands are rough
He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang
He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason
Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better
No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back
He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny
He hates looking at his burn scars
He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together
He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.
He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore
He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin
He loves sleeping outside when he wants to
He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father
His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured
He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident
He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested
DALLY:
He will not talk about his feelings
The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything
He is amazing at lying
The police know him by name
He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks
Darry nicknamed him “Rat”
He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him
He gets sun burns very quickly
He has his own personal stench
He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him
He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment
He chugs drinks insanely fast
He can’t read very well
He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any
Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler
He was happy when he thought he was going to die
Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option
He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm
He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair
He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra
He loves horror movies
He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though
That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D
#the outsiders#johnny cade#dally winston#two bit mathews#ponyboy curtis#sodapop curtis#darry curtis#steve randle#headcanon#silly guy
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Let's talk about KIM DOYOUNG...
I just came here to say if I CATCH yall defending Doyoung out here it's blocked on fucking site. I need yall Ncitzens and Kpop stans to STAND THE FUCK UP.
Out here posting pictures of ugly ass snowmen with MCDONALDS BS. GFTOFH. I saw this yesterday but Koreaboo pissed me off and these tweets of these fucking weirdos made me mad. So imma talk about it here.
Imma post screen shots of tweets and for those of you that are clearly not assholes or not delusional, let's point and laugh.
Fuck the first tweet bc though he is not supposed to be making political statement. That's what he's doing. And I will drop that man like a trash bag into the dumpster. The SECOND TWEET FUCK KIM DOYOUNG'S FEELINGS. Fuck him what about the feelings of the Palestinian fans that he has? What about the people you are actively dying from bombs? starvation? Dehydration? What about them? Out here actively making SNOW MEN using McDonald's shit FUCK HIM. AND FUCK YOU TOO WEIRD ASS BITCH.
The first tweet here. It's not about his family or friends. Doyoung is in the public posting pictures of McDonald's snowmen. He's fucking weird. And if we find out about his family and Friends they can get the smoke too. They ain't special. The last tweet on the bottom...yall spend too much online into kpop. I need people to be educated and up-to-date in the world bc what do you mean does that country exists??? I need people to WAKE UP GO TO FUCKING SCHOOL OR GET HOBBIES OUTSIDE OF KPOP PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
We knew SM wasn't shit. We knew. Doyoung, I am not shocked he's in SM. I like to give people chances but once you fuck up you fuck up. And THIS??? Oh baby you lucky SM needs you for they check which is why I will not be supporting Doyoung and I will give you the Wendy treatment bye bitch.
Hell isn't hot enough. That's all imma say.
On that note, I want to add that as a K-pop fan and Ncitizen, I am greatly disappointed, but I am not surprised. I had a FEELING someone in NCT was gonna do this bs. For once, I was hoping to be proven wrong. But that hoes to show you... we don't know these groups. He isn't the only one supporting these companies. Other idols are, too.
Here's some links to other idols
I also want to note that I will be taking my Doyoung post down even though it had Johnny in it. I'm clutching my pearls like a southern white woman and leaving. I can't get rid of the merch I bought, especially my DoJaeJung albums, but I won't be buying anymore. I understand some of these idols are under contract. For example, New Jeans they have a contract with Coca-Cola, and they just had a meal with McDonald's. That I completely understand. But ACTIVELY spending money to McDonald's and Starbucks and posting it!?!? Nah, you gotta go. Idc who you are. I don't care you have godly teir vocals you're done. It's not that hard to TRY to do something good. I am actively avoiding Starbucks, McDonald's, actively staying up to date on what's going on in the world. It's not just Palestine. It's Congo. Sudan. Yemen. If I can do all of that work a job. Go to school. Watch One Piece (an anime that actively talks about corrupt governments, genocide, war, propaganda, etc). Kim fucking Doyoung and other kpop idols can do it too. They just don't care and want to keep rolling their checks (he probably need to with that pocket change he probably getting). I AM BEGGING yall K-pop stans who still don't get it to STAND UP. Get a life. Read a fucking book. Because yall look dumb as hell, and I'm sorry, but my EGO MY PRIDE will not allow me to be dumb and continue to turn a blind eye when I know people are dying in a genocide. And for those of you saying "well just educate the idol." Baby, there's a reason why college is for adults, and it's not a mandatory if grown adults want to make the choice to learn they'll do it. These idols are GROWN it's not my job to educate adults who are older than me, and it shouldn't be your job either, especially FOR FREE.
I hope yall have a good day today, and I hope yall stay safe out there!
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The fascinating emptiness of one Mr. Louis Tomlinson
Simone De Aurevoir
Feb 20, 2024
Four months ago I went to a concert. The exact city, venue and date doesn’t matter, and you will understand why it doesn’t matter in just a moment. The concert in question was given by Louis Tomlinson, a former member of One Direction, and what I experienced that night was so odd, so puzzling, so fascinating, that I couldn’t help but write it down. Allow me to explain.
The concert took place on a Tuesday evening. It is part of his Faith in the Future tour, and I was accompanying a close friend who is a huge “Louie”, as his fans are called. (Despite the difference in spelling, the man’s name and his fandom are actually pronounced the same way.) I joined her mostly out of solidarity and a little bit out of morbid curiosity. She had previously given me only small glimpses into the Louis Tomlinson fandom, and as a pop culture enthusiast, naturally I was intrigued by this window into an obscure cultural bubble. I remember thinking, “It might be interesting to see what she’s so obsessed with”.
Her first act of initiation had been to take me to see All of Those Voices, the documentary movie about Louis Tomlinson‘s life after One Direction, which depicted his chain smoking Northern English charm, his image of the humble underdog, and the unexpected upwards trajectory of his career over the last five years. It had also instilled in me a vague sense of fear of the fandom. Then again, the intensity of the Gospel is always off putting to atheists, so I thought nothing more of it.
Knowing that football/soccer games dictate which colors to wear and which to avoid, I had half-jokingly asked my friend about taboo colors the day before, not really expecting an answer. Immediately, she texts back — “Don’t wear green, and avoid any obvious combinations of blue and green.” If you’re feeling a sense of foreboding right now, that’s the right instinct.
On the night of the concert, we arrive at the 15,000 seat arena in the brisk evening air. To my surprise, the concrete vestibule is almost empty, save for the small crowd clustering around a merch stand. “They’re all already inside”, my friend explains confidently. We enter through the main entrance into the stuffy warmth of the lobby, through security, past another overcrowded merch stand, and through the soundproofed swinging doors into the main concert hall.
I suddenly feel very small as I enter this gigantic darkened arena space, where the air is even warmer, and buzzing with excitement. Indeed, everybody else is already here. The show won’t actually start for an hour, but the arena is already fully packed. We squeeze past a long row of excited faces to get to our seats, where the local chapter of Louis’s fan club has deposited some items for audience interaction: a blank white sheet of paper and a little snippet of red transparent tracing paper, both with instructions for how and when to hold them up.
While we’re settling in, the second of the two opening bands is already playing — a forgettable mess of clichés from Northern England. “As a white indie boy, Louis tours exclusively with other white indie boys”, my friend remarks with cheeky self awareness. While the clichés are playing, we look around the sold out arena. The two of us are only a little bit younger than Louis himself, which makes us some of the oldest people in the venue (not counting the occasional parental custodians who accompany their teen children).

Fans camping out for a spot in the first row for Louis’s show in Glasgow, 2022. Photograph by Steve Welsh
To me, it looks like we’re just two old pieces of driftwood in a sea of teeth in braces, puffy cheeks and pigtail buns, but my friend explains to me what I’m really seeing. “See that guy over there? That shirt is a Doncaster Jersey with Louis’s team number.” Or: “This girl in front of us? That’s a handmade replica of a t-shirt Louis wore on tour in 2016.” Already, I am amazed at the depth of not just her knowledge, but everybody’s knowledge of the history of this Louis Tomlinson. And then, to my delight, we actually see the forbidden combo: a girl wearing two glow-in-the-dark bracelets next to each other; one blue, one green.
It’s at this point that I finally get an explanation of the meaning behind the colors: Back when the band was still active, all five members of One Direction had a color assigned to them, based on their mic colors at live shows. Harry Styles was green, Zayn Malik was yellow, Liam Payne was red, Louis Tomlinson was blue, and Niall Horan was white. Therefore, wearing blue would symbolize fandom of Louis; wearing, say, red would be an indicator of favoring Liam, and green would symbolize fandom of Harry Styles. And wearing blue and green together would… well, we’ll get to that in a moment.
Since this is Louis’s concert, you might think that the audience would be a sea of exclusively blue clothing, but there is actually a notable amount of rainbow accessories — capes, earrings, fans, etc. — that make for an overall colorful impression.
I wonder out loud how it is possible that somebody who was big with teenagers in the early 2010s has so many teenage fans in 2023. After all, when I was a teenager myself in the late 2000s, it would have seemed unspeakably ridiculous if I had stanned, let’s say, the Spice Girls. (I’m not even sure I was aware of the Spice Girls back then.)
My friend, ever helpful, explains to me that most younger fans came across the fandom in 2020, facilitated by YouTube, Twitter, Tumblr, and pandemic-induced boredom.
Tumblr especially is infamous for its ability to grow and nurture expansive fandoms of pop culture items for years on end, even if the source material is long past its relevance peak (see Supernatural), its quality peak (see Doctor Who) or both (see Sherlock).
The momentum of Louis’ fandom on social media even led to the unusual phenomenon of venues getting bigger every time his concerts were rescheduled due to the pandemic. And this is when it starts to dawn on me. I am not attending a concert; I am witnessing a Tumblr dashboard come to life.
I’m just about to share this thought with my friend when the background music cuts off mid-song, the lights drop, and the sudden darkness comes with a piercing collective shriek that makes the earplugs flutter in my ear canal.
The band comes in first, taking their places. After barely a beat of pause, Louis walks onstage, with messy hair, wearing a tank top and designer sweatpants, walking at a matter-of-fact pace. I assume the shrieking got even louder, but at this noise level it was hard to tell.
Louis takes his place behind the mic stand in the middle and immediately launches into the first song, The Greatest — a stadium anthem basically written explicitly for this spot on the setlist. Not wasting any time on greetings or announcements, he immediately follows up with the other big hit, Kill My Mind. From there, directly onto Bigger Than Me, another stadium-ready rock pop number.
I’m alarmed as I suddenly realize that the only catchy, recognizable songs have come and gone, ushering in the phase of uninterrupted filler songs. (I had dutifully listened to the tour setlist multiple times in preparation for the concert, but my brain just wouldn’t latch on to anything beyond the first three songs.)
At this point, I’m worried this will be a repeat of that time when I went to see P!nk live in concert and noticed too late that I knew none of her songs from after 2005. However, P!nk is a charismatic person and a great live singer who was doing somersaults on a bungee rope as 10 dancers were trampolining and performing aerial acrobatics around her.
Louis is not on a bungee rope. There are no dancers, there is no set piece, there is no stage show, no performance, no outfit changes, no real interaction with the band, and no traditional crowd work. He simply stands behind the mic, singing his songs, the screens above him showing live closeups of his face in black and white, and I’m not sure he smiles even once. For a teen heartthrob, he’s… not very throbby.
(His outfit, by the way, will already have been documented and analyzed by a dedicated Instagram account, @fashionlouist, the owners of which can somehow identify the exact brand and name of each piece he’s wearing within the first 20 minutes of every show. His sweatpants today cost £380.)

Louis on the same tour, earlier in the year. Photograph by Amber Patrick
After the fourth song, Louis finally addresses the audience. “(City), make some noise!” He thanks the two opening acts, and points out that this is one of the loudest crowds he has ever had. That’s it. I’m amused at how his lines are almost comically generic, but my friend explains what I’m not getting: “He always thanks the band, and he always says this wouldn’t be possible without the fans. And he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. And he only says something about the venue when it’s a really special one.”
She doesn’t see his boilerplate statements as him being uninterested or uninteresting. She sees consistency and authenticity, and judging by the beaming smiles all around me, so does everybody else.
Similarly, his outfit may look to me like he tried to make the least amount of effort, but the fandom like that he is “finally getting more comfortable wearing what he wants”.
In case you’re wondering, Louis’s appeal doesn’t lie in his singing skills either — his pitch gets shaky when the melody dips below the falsetto range, but he is clearly making a great effort in this department. Live singing is hard, and for the most part he’s doing a good job at it.
The interchangeable songs go on for a while, and still the elated fans around me seem to know every syllable. It is very warm, very loud, and for an outsider like me, very boring.
I go outside multiple times to have water, to get another beer, to go to the bathroom. I can’t help but notice that I am the only one in my row leaving her seat during the show. Everybody smiles politely as they let me squeeze past, but every time I do it I’m keenly aware of how inappropriate my behavior is. No one else seems to need or want a break.
In the ghostly emptiness outside I overhear a member of the bar staff complaining about the awful evening. At first I don’t understand what they could possibly find offensive about this quintessentially inoffensive music, but it later dawns on me that they were probably referring to the complete lack of beer and concessions sales. Most attendees are either too young to drink legally or too young to want to spend 6,50€ on a beer. Most of them seem to be sharing one cup of water, and no one is leaving during the concert to go to the bar for a refill.
Down the hall, I hear yelling and commotion which turns out to be paramedics on their way outside, transporting a passed-out teenage fan on a stretcher, accompanied by their panicked friend.
When I return to my seat, everybody around me is still scream-singing along to every single word of every single song, including my friend. They are having a great time. It looks like I missed out on “She Is Beauty We Are World Class“, which, as I had learned earlier that evening, is the song his fans collectively take as an opportunity to show off their rainbow flags and create a queer-accepting atmosphere at the show. Though Louis is, by all accounts, a cishet man, the One Direction fandom has a very, let’s say, specific relationship to queerness and queer symbols. More on that in just a moment.
My ears perk up for a bit when Louis gets to Back to You, a label-mandated collab with Digital Farm Animals and Bebe Rexha from 2017. He plays an altered version of the song with more of a rock sound, but it still stands out to me simply for using different chord progressions than all his other songs.
Funnily enough, in the lyrics of another song (We Made It), he directly addresses this qualm of mine: “Singing something poppy on the same four chords, used to worry about it but I don‘t no more“. To his credit, he really doesn’t pretend to be more than he is — that’s all other people‘s doing. Let me explain.
Not counting parents or outsiders like myself, there are three groups of people in this room: former fans of One Direction, Underdog Cheerleaders, and Larry Stylinson conspiracy theorists.
The first group is easy to explain and even easier to relate to: they were big fans of One Direction (or “1D”), and since that band doesn’t exist anymore, the closest thing to it are the concerts by its former members, all of whom have embarked on solo careers. These fans are the ones who visibly come to life during the two 1D songs that Louis plays this evening; and the ones waving the huge rainbow flag with all five 1D members printed on it. (Again, more on that in a second.)
The second group, whom I call the Underdog Cheerleaders, are the group that my friend belongs to. These are the people who are convinced that there was a grand plan by 1D’s management to make Harry Styles the breakout star of the group, and to suppress the careers of all other members for that reason.
But because they, the true fans, appreciate Louis for exactly what he is, they will do anything they can to support this underdog millionaire, whether by making his songs chart by listening at the same time, buying tickets to his livestream performance during Covid, or writing to the BBC to beg them to stop blacklisting his music. (Whether that was ever actually the case is unconfirmed.)
For them, the appeal lies not in his singing, his performance, or songwriting skills. The qualities that are always repeated when people praise Louis Tomlinson are that he is humble and down to earth; a simple lad from a working class family in northern England.
This is pointed out in every single write up about this man. His humanity is further compounded by the untimely deaths of his mother and sister within a few years of each other while he was ascending to solo fame. For the Underdog Cheerleaders, it’s not about music so much as it is about identifying with, celebrating and uplifting the least memorable person in a lineup of five.
And the third group… they are the ones who would purposely pair blue with green. These are the so-called Larries, the people who ship Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson as a couple.
You can find a great deep dive on the topic here, but the long and short of it is this: While there were ships for almost all possible combinations between the five members of One Direction (resulting in droll ship names such as Nouis or Ziall), the Larry ship was by far the most popular.
The ideological overlap between the Underdog Cheerleaders and the Larries is not zero, but while the cheerleaders just want to see the nice guy win, the Larries also want the nice guy (and Harry Styles) to come out as gay.
They are willing to accept any explanation, however flawed or implausible, for why Louis and Harry have yet to come out as a couple even though they have definitely secretly been together for a decade now and their respective heterosexual partners are absolutely paid actors and they even totally have a secret baby together.
The lack of evidence, the repeated denials by the two men in question and their polite but increasingly desperate requests to stop the madness have only fueled the fire.
The one thing that all three groups share is that for all of them, Louis’s public perception is forever tied up with the existence of Harry Styles. Whether he wants to or not, Louis is forever defined against his more popular former band mate, whether as his colleague, competitor, villain, or lover.
It’s about an hour and a half into the show as I allow myself a peek at the set list on my phone. We’re finally nearing the end. Watching the unsmiling face of Louis Tomlinson, I’m wondering — is he enjoying himself? Who even is this person?

By seeing this image, you have experienced the complete stage show of the “Faith in the Future” tour. Photograph by Steve Jennings
The encore consists of three songs. When Louis gets to the last one, he descends into the pit. Still singing, he walks up to the first row who have been camping outside since the day before in order to get this spot. He touches a few of the outstretched hands, walks along the front row to the left, bends into the crowd for a few seconds, and when he reappears he no longer has his tank top on. His fans have ripped it off his body. He retreats back onto the stage, says a few polite words of thanks, and disappears.
And then, the magic is over as quickly as it began. The lights turn on, background music plays, and people immediately start filing out in an orderly manner. Some are clasping the red confetti bands that rained over the audience during the last song, and their faces look like they will treasure this souvenir forever. In the chilly darkness outside, a well-informed busker with a guitar sings songs by Louis and 1D, and a small crowd gathers around him to sing along while waiting for the shuttle bus back to the city.
At the end of the night, I’m left wondering what all these thousands of young fans really care about. Even though everybody knows all the music by heart, it doesn’t really seem to be about the music. And even though there’s a throng of fans crowded around the stage exit for a chance to wave at the tour bus with Louis in it, I don’t know whether this really has anything to do with him personally.
Because at its innermost core, this fandom is about itself. Not in the sense of its specific members — I didn’t see many fans interacting and making new friends — but rather, the fandom as an abstract entity.
It’s the joy of belonging to an in-group; of sending and receiving signals that only the initiated will understand. The firm belief that you’re backing the right horse, that you’re part of something “Bigger Than Me”, that there is a purpose to your music listening.
Who is Louis Tomlinson? I still have no idea, and neither does it really matter. Nobody else cares. They will make Louis Tomlinson into whatever they need him to be.
#louis tomlinson#harry styles#zayn#liam payne#larries#this is how people outside the fandom view Louis#1d reunion#brilliant analysis
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Falling for Frogs- Chapter One
CW: NSFW, Slow burn, chubby!reader, fem reader, original female character (paired with Haley), side ships, mental illness, anxiety attacks, smoking, bdsm, loss of virginity, online bullying (not in anyway involving seb)
A/N: so I've been planning this fic for years >.>
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Chapter One: Pan!c at the Con
Sebastian both hated changes in his routine and yet looked forward to them. He hated it when people would force it on him with no chance to say ‘no’, minimal notice, or if it forced him to take part in one of the ridiculous festivals around town. Yet, the change for today wasn’t so bad.
He and Sam stepped out of the beat-up van into a day far too sunny for Sebastian, that had him squinting and his fingers itching for a cigarette. However, he forced the desire down. He’d just finished one after all. Instead, he focused on spinning his ring around his finger and touching the piercing on the corner of his lip with the piercing in the center of his tongue. The fidgeting helped, especially as they moved further into the crowd of Zuzu city.
It was funny, the thick throng of people usually didn’t bother him, but today it was worse than usual out on the streets. Likely because of the convention. The convention he and Sam were headed straight towards. Fuck, he hoped it wasn’t this bad at the actual site.
“Dude, wanna stop at the café with the maple bars?” Sam tilted pointed toward the place.
Sebastian blinked, considering it for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”
Caffeine always sounded good to him. He had even gotten a good night’s sleep, having pushed himself the two days before to finish his recent gig early and his client had been extremely pleased. Even though Sebastian had only pushed so hard for selfish reasons, he wanted to be as well rested as possible for today. Though he wasn’t about to say that.
Even with a good eight hours under his belt he still felt sleep deprived, and thus coffee sounded good. Chronic insomnia does that to a person though.
Stepping in through the doors was like finding an oasis in the desert. Except the desert was the outside, where people pressed so close together their elbows dug into each other, and the already muggy city air was thick with the scent of sweat and too much perfume. Sebastian took a deep breath as soon as he realized the predominant smell here was roasted coffee beans and sweet, buttery pastries.
He just had to make it until they reached the hotel. It should be better there. His fingers flicked over his thumb ring nervously.
A register was already open and waiting, so while Sam went to find a table, Sebastian went to order. He knew Sam’s order off the top of his head after all, and despite how good of a friend Sam was, he never knew how Sebastian would take his coffee in a café. After all, it changed depending on the place.
Sebastian’s eyes skipped to the side as a flash of glaring green caught his attention. A frog backpack, something a child would probably have, hung over your shoulders. You were small, he had maybe four inches on you, maybe more. You looked soft, with thick thighs, wide hips, and bright eyes as you talked animatedly to the person behind the register.
He looked at your hands, a set of fingerless, striped knit gloves held onto a wallet in the shape of some sort of merch from Cave Saga. He thought his heart might have kicked at that. The colors you wore were muted except for the pop of your bag and the little choker around your neck. You would easily blend in if it weren’t for those things. Yet you didn’t seem worried about that, not like he was. He swallowed.
“Excuse me, are you ready?” the worker in front of him asked and Sebastian felt a burn rise to his cheeks.
“Yeah,” he nodded, shaking himself into the present and focusing on the task at hand.
He put in his order while his hand worked his ring at warp speed. When he turned to head over to Sam you were gone. Oddly, he would normally feel nothing but at that moment he felt disappointed. His eyes scanned the café, checking just in case you had lingered. But when he saw no green or purple he just brushed it off as one of the many missed opportunities in his life. What would he have said anyway?
Sebastian fell quiet as he waited for Sam to finish his donut. Sam didn’t point it out and likely assumed it was due to his usual ‘moodiness’ as everyone called it. Sebastian wouldn’t deny that he did the brooding e-boy thing well, so they weren’t necessarily wrong about him being moody occasionally. This time though his mind was merely caught up in a fantasy, about what he would have said to you.
---
Your eyes were so wide you swore they had completely dried up. You consciously blinked several times and then squinted up at the wide screens that spread across the many booths. This gaming convention was going to be so amazing. It would give you so many ideas for next year. For your own booth.
You grabbed your notebook as you slipped between the thinning crowd. Out on the streets the number of people had been nearly suffocating, but now it was just enough to make it feel like you might be able to disappear underneath it in the best way.
Women still weren’t the most welcome in the gaming world, especially as developers for the type you were planning to release. In fact, you were releasing it under an alias for that exact reason. Many people assumed you were masculine online, and you just thought it was best not to correct them. This game was your baby after all, you’d been working on it for ten years. Pouring your blood, sweat, and tears into it, and to be honest, the only thing you needed was some voice actors before you could release it for some trial runs in beta. You pursed your lips, maybe you would find some VAs, lesser-known ones who still hit the mark, here.
You bobbed through the crowd, feeling like you were swimming through water as you tried to slow down at one spot but got distracted by booth. Eventually you found yourself in front of a video game start up for Solarian Chronicles.
Your heart jumped excitedly, “Oh my god! I saw this on Kickstarter!”
You gushed, swiping through the tablet. Someone cleared their throat beside you and that was when you realized that someone’s hand was already hovering over the tablet you touched.
“Oh…,” you squeaked and instantly your stomach squirmed, embarrassment flooded through you. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. Oh my god.”
Anxiety roiled like a beast, hungry and gripping onto your fractured thoughts, instantly you dropped your gaze. A pair of combat boots, black jeans, and a spiked belt came into view. You refused to look further up, you refused to make eye contact. They turned though and quiet huff came from their direction.
“Not a big deal,” they said.
And Yoba the voice, deep and rich, with a bit of a growling rasp. You weren’t sure if was vocal fry or something else.
They cleared their throat again, “Is the floor really that interesting?”
You thought you were going to die, just burn up into ash from the way you were squirming on the spot and the way the shame ate you alive. You shook your head, still focusing purely on their shoes.
“You can look up, y’know?” they said it like you weren’t melting into the floor, like you weren’t hoping they’d turn around and you could just slip away.
Maybe you’d leave the con all together now, you couldn’t focus anyway. Not with those vicious little thoughts poking at everything you did wrong today.
“Umm,” you swallowed and slowly, so slowly, you looked up.
Did Yoba make humans? Did Yoba sculpt them with Their own two hands or was it just this one? Because even with the baggie hoodie hiding him, with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows to expose twisting black vines inked into his right forearm, you swore this man before you was a gift from the God.
Whatever embarrassment you had before lurched into overdrive as you realized you were staring. Eyes flicking over the way his piercings on his lip, his ear, and his eyebrow caught the light. The way the black fringe fell into his face and in an effort to see you easier he tilted his head, making him seem a little softer. And his eyes were a mix of blue and green with flecks of brown, underneath the fluorescent lights it showed every swirling color within them, even though they didn’t give even a fraction of a glimpse of his emotions.
You hated yourself. You hated that you got too pulled into your bubble. Too excited, too focused, too everything that wasn’t normal, so you pressed your notebook against your chest and whimpered. Yoba, you fucking whimpered in front of him. And you weren’t sure if it was the way his lips pulled into a smirk when you met his gaze or if it was from the sheer amount of negativity bombarding your brain.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled one last time before slipping through the crowd once more.
“Wait!”
You heard his yell, but it was too late, you were already deeper in the crowd than you’d ever wanted to be and already rushing toward the door. You could always watch some influencers’ videos later. You could always find voice actors the old-fashioned way. You weren’t missing out on much.
Tears began to sting at your lash line and all you could think about was how this always happened in Zuzu and maybe you needed to take up your best friend on their offer to visit them in the valley.
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Salad Days Chapter 5: We Are The One
This chapter is certified 18+™ for smut and light mental health crisis (we've all been there... right?)
I'm sorry if I'm rusty lol. Also, I made a tag list! Let me know if you want in :) this is looking like it's gonna be pretty long.
one | two | three | four
It’s your turn for soundcheck now, and… Jesus, you’re actually nervous. It’s been forever since you’ve been nervous.
You’ve played The Strike every week for about a year now, slowly creeping your way from dead Monday shows, to decent Thursday shows, to electric weekend shows.
You’ve worked your ass off to move from the merch table spot in the dark, at the edge of the dance floor, to one of the spots under the lights and the AC unit.
You know every person here, at least by face, and they know you. Either from the band or the bar. Except for Rodrick and his friends, that is.
You’ve never headlined before, though, and something about your first time is making you shaky.
So, here you stand, face to face with yourself in the bathroom mirror. Jessica, your lead guitar, is against the wall, cool as can be in her vinyl pants. She blows out a long puff of smoke, and fluffs out her short, green hair with one hand.
“We’re gonna be fine. It’s like any other night.”
But it’s not like any other night, not to you.
Is it Rodrick? Are you trying to impress him? That’d be really fucking stupid. You don’t do what you do to impress people.
That, and you’re pretty sure he’d be impressed no matter what you do.
But…
You don't quite know what's happening to you, whether it's how good he’d looked on stage, or the feelings that overcame you when that douchebag sucker-punched him.
Maybe it's a combination of both.
On stage, he'd been sexy and self-assured. Playing those drums like it was nothing. Making your heart flutter with a wink and a smile, like you were a dumb lovestruck teenager at her first concert again.
After that guy had hit him… he got vulnerable. He'd looked so sad, defeated almost. Hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. It made you wonder if those two had a history. It made you want to latch onto him and make him all better.
It seems like Rodrick, whether he’s aware of it or not, knows just where to hit to take down your walls.
“We gotta go,” Maureen pops her head into the restroom.
You push your little emotional breakthrough back in and take a deep breath.
This isn't the time for that.
You climb the side steps, as you have a hundred times, and start fighting audio cables until everything looks right.
Pink cord goes from amp to overdrive pedal. Black cord goes from tuning pedal to bass.
Fuck. Is that even right? You don’t know anymore.
Low notes come from your amp, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
Everyone else is all set up, and you look around. It’s time.
Soundcheck is quick. Too quick. You adjust your setlist with your foot, and stretch out your fingers.
Eddie pushes his glasses up and gives you a thumbs up.
You just gotta start, and then you’ll be fine.
“Hey fuckers!” Your voice comes out more powerful than you'd expected, “We’re The Shrieks!”
The crowd comes alive. Deep breaths.
The lights are up, the crowd is buzzing and you- wow. You're glowing. You look so confident and fucking cool, all lit up in gold stage lights.
Rodrick watches as you and your bandmates give each other a nod.
A note rings out. A second. A third. A fourth.
The song explodes, and Rodrick’s mouth falls open. You’re hopping, and shaking your hair out, really hyping yourself up.
Then you open your lips. Rodrick is enamored. No high school crush he ever had could compare to how he feels right now. He gives in to the movement of the crowd, and it feels like being in the ocean. Bodies all moving as one.
There’s a smile on his face that just won’t go away. He’s never been to a show quite like this.
He holds on to the front of the stage just to watch you, taking in the absolute power you’re giving off. Trying his best to read your lips and hear every word.
I am the one who brings you the future
I am the one who buries your past
A new species, I come from the ruins
I am the one that was made to last
We are not Jesus (Christ!)
Oh, no, we are not fascist (pigs!)
Oh, no we are not capitalist (industrialists!)
Oh, no, we are not communists
We are the one
We are the one
We are the one
We are the one
The party’s still going, even after everyone has shuffled out and the doors are locked. Mike has commandeered the sound booth and is playing “some shit from the good old days.”
You're up in the storage loft above the stage, wrapping up cables and boxing up mics. You close a tackle box full of neatly rolled cords and notice Rodrick down by the stage.
You sit and just watch him for a minute, trying to figure out if your bathroom mirror crisis was just pre-show jitters.
He looks like he's looking for you, craning his neck around and slowly spinning in place.
He's just such a dork.
You’re not sure if you can even be snarky with him anymore.
It's been a really long time since you had a crush on someone. Especially one like this. You're used to being in control, giving no more of yourself than you want to. For all you know, when you get down there, you'll be giggling like an idiot at his mercy.
Pull yourself together.
“I love this song,” you drop down from the storage loft, hopping off the stage, landing in front of Rodrick. Trying to play it cool.
He jumps when you appear, a smile spreading across his face.
“You were amazing.” He sighs.
“Back at you,” you restrain yourself from grinning.
You're still buzzing with adrenaline, and it spurs you on to try something. You step forward, and clasp your arms behind his neck.
His eyes widen, but after some hesitation, he brings his hands to your waist. The two of you begin to sway, a little uncoordinated, to the music. You look up into his eyes. He looks nervous, but a small smile is beginning to form on his face.
Your giddiness starts to fade away, and you feel a little more in control of yourself.
“Did you go to your prom?” You ask.
“Hell no,” Rodrick scoffs, “Did you?”
“I didn't even graduate,” you laugh, “so no. But it explains why we're kinda bad at this.”
“I don't think we're that bad,” He attempts to spin you. You both break out in a fit of giggles as your back hits his chest and you recenter.
“I wanna do that, like, every weekend forever.” He sighs.
“That's not a hard ask. I can show you some of the other venues when I'm free. You guys will be working the circuit in no time.” You look up at him.
Rodrick’s smile is so genuine. He looks completely content.
The world disappears around you as you get lost in the song, swaying and spinning, staring into each other's eyes. You've never been so glad to have taken a chance on someone.
“How's your lip?” You ask.
“It's okay,”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really.”
You hesitate, then lean upwards, testing the water.
He seems to be thinking the same thing, and he leans down to meet your lips.
The kiss is warm and familiar, all traces of awkwardness are gone. It feels like you know each other. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and pulls away.
“So am I allowed to like you now?” His voice is lower than before. He holds you close to him, one arm tight across your lower back.
“You feel like you could pass a field sobriety test?” You smirk.
“Yeah?” Rodrick raises an eyebrow.
“Okay. You're allowed.”
He laughs, rolling his eyes, and leans in to kiss you again, but you both quickly turn to the sound of someone clearing their throat. It's one of his bandmates, the blonde one. He's avoiding looking at either of you.
“Hey, Rodrick, uh, you two…” He clears his throat again, “The other bands invited us out to eat, and we were gonna go… but it looks like you're busy.”
Rodrick blinks at you, “Are you gonna go?”
“Yeah, let's go. You should get some carbs in you. Soak up all that booze, or you're gonna have a bad morning.” You detach from him, and walk towards the back door.
Your car is parked right next to their van, and Rodrick looks like he's hesitating getting in with his friends. You roll your window down and raise your eyebrow at him.
“Do you… wanna ride with me?”
He looks surprised, “Can I?”
“Yeah, get in.” You lean over and pop the door open, butterflies swirling in your stomach.
He bounces into your passenger seat, beaming.
“You know where to go, right?” You shout into the van. Rodrick’s friends give you a thumbs up.
You roll the window up, and pull out of the parking lot.
Rodrick is drumming on his knees to a song playing in your car. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and smile a little. You think of the day you met him, all pent up energy and rock n roll, baby!
Big, dumb dog.
He moves a hand to your thigh and continues drumming the rhythm. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. His eyes are locked on your thigh as it bounces to the beat.
You pull up outside the old Waffle House, and it looks like you're the first to make it.
“Let's wait,” you sigh, leaning back, turning up the music.
His hand stills on your thigh. You close your eyes, honestly exhausted from the show.
His hand moves upward to rest in the crook of your hip, and the corner of your mouth curls up. You turn your head to look at him.
“What're you doin’?”
“Nothing,” he says, trying to sound inconspicuous.
Rodrick’s heart is going a mile a minute. He'd been so confident back at the bar, but here, with you, just you, he’s freaking out a little.
He studies your face in the glow of an orange street light. Your eyes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He wants every feature burned into his memory forever. His hand is warm against your hip. You put your hand over his and he smiles.
“What, did you get scared or something?” You smirk.
“No…” Rodrick lies.
You kiss him again, and he melts into it. He slips one hand into the back of your hair and pulls you closer. You maneuver over the center console to get in his lap, and he breathes out deeply. The kiss gets messy, like all the energy of the night is coming out between your lips. Your hands are shaking. One rests on Rodrick’s shoulder, the other in his hair, and you make a noise as he bites your lip lightly.
“Sorry, is that okay?” He whispers.
You pull him in, and bite him back harder.
He groans, and his hold on your waist tightens.
He's snaking a hand under the hem of your shirt, when there's a tentative knock on the window. You pull away from each other.
“God dammit!” Rodrick pants.
It's Ward, with a hand over his mouth, feigning being scandalized.
“Oooooooh,” he taunts, when you're both out of the car, “I knew it.”
You roll your eyes, and keep the door open with your foot as the guys pour in. People from the show are everywhere, this is a decently common occurrence. You find a seat between your band and Rodrick’s at the bar. Maureen, your drummer, offers you a fist bump, and leans into your ear.
“He's cute,” she whispers, “did you drive here with him?”
You nod, suppressing a goofy grin.
“Do you think you're gonna…?”
You shrug.
“Up to him,” you whisper back.
The waitress, a blonde with a buzz cut and a face full of piercings, greets you by name, and asks, “Usual?”
Once your orders are in, Rodrick puts his hand securely on your thigh.
“Do you guys come here a lot?”
“Oh yeah, at least every weekend,” you lower your voice, “That's Jeanine, she's our regular. Then Martin and Rosie, who have worked here since the beginning of time. Then there's Carla. She's new. Last weekend, she and Martin were fighting because she kept getting orders wrong.”
He narrows his eyes and looks at each person you point at.
“Do you just come here to eavesdrop?” he asks quietly, suppressing a laugh.
“It's fascinating. Just watch.”
The two of you eat in silence and observe the inner workings of Waffle House.
Rodrick nudges you as Carla scrapes a plate into the trash, and Martin yells, Dammit, Carla! Chunked and covered! Not scattered!
Carla throws her apron to the floor and flips him off with both hands. Fuck you, old man!
“Oh shit,” you whisper.
“Damn,” Rodrick turns to look at you.
As your eyes meet, and the bell on the door jingles aggressively, you can't hold in your laughter anymore.
"He's such an asshole." Rodrick whispers, giggling in disbelief. Does every diner job just suck ass?
"I know, this Waffle House is under a dictatorship," you laugh
You both calm down, and end up just staring at each other.
“Rodrick, I don't wanna be too… forward, but…” you trail off.
His face goes blank.
“Do you wanna… get out of here? With me?”
Rodrick drops his fork, and snatches his tab off the counter.
“Yes,” his voice is feverish.
You follow behind him, and wave goodbye to everyone on your way out.
You'll absolutely get teased for this later on, but who gives a fuck?
Now, I've drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine
Gotta race some cat to bed
Oh, is there concrete all around?
Or is it in my head?
Rodrick’s hands are on you the moment you shut your front door.
He backs you up against it, bringing his lips to yours once again. His lips creep down to your jaw, then your neck. Then he's on his knees, pushing the hem of your shirt up, kissing your stomach, your hip bones.
Your hands are in his hair, stroking and tugging.
“I don't know what it is about you,” Rodrick murmurs between kisses, “I just knew, I had to…”
“Me too,” you laugh a little, “I'm not usually this easy.”
He grins deviously up at you, undoing your bottoms.
“So you don't bring someone home like this after every show?” He gives your waist a little bite.
“No, god, no,” you chuckle, “this should be too fast, but something about this, you just feel right."
“Why me?” He pauses, looking up at you.
“You're just,” you look down at him. His dark doe eyes drill into yours, plump lips slightly open. You feel his hot breath on you, and it sends a shiver up your spine, “Jesus, you're just fucking hot. And you're not, like, an asshole about it. You could've taken any girl in that bar home tonight.”
“I wanted you,” his lips twitch, and without hesitation, he lifts you up, and sets you back down on your kitchen counter. He plants soft kisses on your thighs, and pauses to look up at you. It makes your head cloudy.
“Can I try something?” His voice is breathy.
You're still recovering from the shock of being lifted like that.
“Yeah,” you say, in slight disbelief, looking down at him.
He plants a kiss on your panties, and then removes them completely. You heartbeat skyrockets.
“I might be kinda bad, but… I've always wanted to try.”
You watch him gaze over your wetness. You truly cannot believe what's happening right now. He looks lustful, but focused, like he's trying to form a plan. Then without warning, he just dives in.
You hadn't expected much from him, but damn, he knows what he's doing. A shocked moan leaves your lips.
Your body feels electric as he snakes his tongue through your folds, finding all the places that make you whimper. He grunts, and you practically feel it reverberate through your whole body. You wrap your legs around his head and pull him closer. His tongue circles your clit and you throw your head back. His plush lips cover so much ground as he gives you a light suck.
“You sure you've never done this before?” Your weak voice teases him.
He pulls away with a pop, making you shudder.
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “I’ve just thought about it a lot.”
“Well, you're doing fucking great.”
He gives you a sly grin and goes back in.
Your back starts to arch as he flicks, and sucks, and swirls his tongue. Your moans mix with his soft grunts and you realize you're starting to come undone. You grab a handful of his hair and roll your hips.
“Keep going,” you gasp, “I-I’m…”
His eyes flick up to meet yours and that does it. Your body jolts, and you squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm rattles through you, the counter cool against your body.
He slows his actions, and comes to rest on your thigh again.
When you're recovered, you sit up, and put your hands on his shoulders. You kiss him hard, tasting yourself, and feel a new arousal awaken in you.
“Was that really okay?” His eyes plead with you.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You pant, holding his face in your hands, and he looks bashful, “Best I've ever had.”
You hop down from the counter.
“Your turn.”
“Are you sure?” He stutters.
You take him by the hand, and lead him across the small apartment to your bed.
Rodrick’s breath is shaky as he leans against the edge.
“Take your shirt off,” you tell him, and he does.
His eyes are hazy with lust, and he grunts when you kiss him. You run your hands over his chest. The muscles in his core are tight, and you can feel his heartbeat. Hard and fast.
You kneel, and your hands find the tight bulge in his jeans. He bites his lip as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his boxers.
It's a good length, fairly weighty, and he groans when you take it in your hands. You look up into his eyes and lightly roll your tongue over the tip. His knees buckle, and he sits back on your bed. You chuckle and scoot closer, steadying yourself between his legs.
“So… safe to assume you've never done this either?”
You fit him further into your mouth, trying to wet as much as you can.
“One time… almost,” he says, labored, “we were in a car and the cops knocked on the window.”
“Fuckin’ pigs,” you shake your head, then take him in as far as you can get him.
He lets out a long, low noise. You grasp the rest of his length with your hand and pump lightly. His thigh shakes under your other hand as you swirl your tongue.
You catch his eye and come up for air, licking him from base to tip. His eyes roll back, and you laugh.
“Should I keep going, or is this gonna take you out of commission?” You tease.
“Please… keep going,” Rodrick breathes.
His mind is foggy as he feels himself enter your mouth again. He can't even process what he's feeling, all he knows is he never wants it to stop. He doesn't feel in control of his own body. His hands desperately search for a grip on your comforter as you bob your head.
He tries his best to focus, to keep his eyes on you, but he feels something in himself start to slip. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, barely keeping himself up on his elbows. His legs tremble as he feels himself hit your throat and he lets out a long moan.
Then your mouth is gone, and he opens his eyes, desperate for the feeling to come back.
You crawl on top of him and straddle him.
“Scoot back,” you murmur, and he obliges.
You lean down to kiss him, and his hands come to rest gently in your hair.
Something still feels weird in his head. He doesn't think he's drunk anymore, but even the low light of your apartment feels too bright. His ears are ringing, maybe still from the noise of the bar. He feels his heart start to beat out of his chest, and he holds on to you for dear life.
It feels like he's dreaming, but maybe as long as his hands are on you, he'll be okay.
You're saying something. The words don't quite reach him, but he nods anyway. Eager for something to pull him back into reality.
A little voice in the back of his head is hissing. He tries to blow it off, but it's persistent, fighting him.
You don't deserve this.
Fuck his stupid brain. He wants to be present with you. He wants to hold onto every little second of this, keep it forever. It feels like you're far, far away from him, even as he watches you take your shirt off and feels your hips, warm on his.
The ringing in his ears subsides a little as your lips touch his again.
“Let me know if you want to stop, you look a little overwhelmed.” You whisper.
“No,” Rodrick urges, “I never wanna stop,”
You laugh, and start to kiss a trail down his chest.
He sighs into the feeling and closes his eyes.
The fuzz in his head isn't gone, though.
Yet.
It'll go away, he knows it.
He just needs to focus. On you, on how good you're making him feel.
On how good he'd made you feel, he's pretty damn proud of that.
Just stay in the moment.
Please, just stay in the moment.
And now I'm ready to close my eyes
And now I'm ready to close my mind
And now I'm ready to feel your hand
And lose my heart on the burning sand
And now I wanna be your dog
And now I wanna be your dog
And now I wanna be your dog
Well, c'mon
~
tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam
#if the smut is bad i'm so sorry#i am hyperventilating hovering over the post button#i tried ok#have fun gang#also the waffle house encounter is based on my real life#rodrick heffley#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick x reader#doawk rodrick#rodrick heffley fanfic#salad days#my stuff#Spotify
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list of my favorite moments from this weekend
meeting @wecantalktomorrow
meeting the same louies at the airport twice (first when we were leaving for nyc and then after we were coming back home)
flying on a plane for the first time in years
seeing new york from the sky (truly breathtaking)
shake shack as our only eating place (and in my case also sleeping place akajsksksk)
kay and i saying fuck it and taking the subway to times square
the nice lady who helped us get a card to ride the subway
the fact that every time we rode in the subway something insane happened (shoutout to the street dancers)
walking through times square
talking shit about the overpriced new york souvenirs
the nice lady who stopped us to talk about how the neighborhood is always flooded with people + how they get free tickets to shows + giving us said tickets
taking a nap on the sidewalk waiting for security to let us in
the countless “i love my boyfriend” with louis pics shirts
the dad with the “louis tomlinson made me broke” “but it was worth it” shirt
meeting @greeneyesfriedrice
the person who was giving pride flags away
exchanging friendship bracelets (even though i had none to exchange rip)
chugging an entire bottle of water so i could get it in the venue (it was massive)
meeting new people inside the venue
listening to giant rocks outside while in line for the merch stands
the hot dog which along with the water bottle, the migraine pills and the nice wind saved me from fainting
shoutout to the nice lady who served me the hot dog, she was so helpful
THE SHOW ITSELF
shouting “NO” at the top of my lungs while louis sang “so cmon call me liar”
THE VIBES???? everyone was so loud and dancing and having fun
THE CONGA LINE
THE MOSH PIT
louis, bless his sappy heart, thanking the crew and the opening acts, telling us he loves us
LARRY CALL A LOAD OF SMOKE IN
BUT I DONT FEEL LIKE GOING HOME
LOSING IT when louis got on stage shirtless
singing we are the champions with everyone around
the mom and daughter sitting beside me who told me i went hard throughout the entire show
speaking of that the girls in front of me who would look at me whenever i screamed aksjsksks sorry but i’m actually not
how all of us went directly to the gates and even though they kept telling us he wasn’t there anymore we stood there
i got lost momentarily but it led to ME SEEING LOUIS LEAVE AND SEEING HIM UP CLOSE
shoutout to my mom who i called after seeing louis up close in tears crying and screaming and hyperventilating and she was so happy for me aksjsksksksksm
meeting @pop-punklouis @nauticallyrics and many more at shake shack
keeping the vibes going and trying to find a bar
the first uber driver, god bless him
this is a safe space
accidentally finding the bar while we were supposed to going to another one
WHEN THE DJ PLAYED A REMIX OF ADORE YOU AND WE LOST IT COMPLETELY AND STARTED SINGING AND DANCING AROUND
how the vibes got even more intense from there
scaring the other customers away akajskskskdn
the staff who were so nice
DJ PLAYING OUR REQUESTED SONGS AND BASICALLY HAVING AN IMPROMPTU ONE DEE NIGHT
the vibes truly never stopped
leaving the bar at 2am
exchanging our favorite moments and hugs after we all had to part
getting on the wrong subway and just saying fuck it let’s get an uber
sleeping in the airport (painful but worth it)
the staff on the plane who were also nice and fun
the drive home, featuring trying to sing at the top of our lungs (but i i couldn’t because my voice was slightly gone)
realizing how amazing and incredibly this whole weekend was. i miss everyone and i can’t wait to see you all and louis again 💜
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Daylight MV by Harry Styles - why was it not the unreleased Two Ghosts MV 2.0? A timeline.
This video, released on July 19, 2023, is jam packed with Blondie and Haylor references. I think it was almost the sister project to the never released Two Ghosts MV…until it wasn’t. And I have an idea as to why.
Don’t believe me that it’s Haylor AF? Go read this amazing summary by @womanexile at whose request I am writing this timeline.
As we know, Harry was filming the video on and around May 10 and 11, 2022, based in articles and pap/drone photos from the time, like this Daily Mail article:
Let’s review the timeline:
April 22, 2022 - Harry performs at Coachella weekend 2 in Indio, CA.
April 26, 2022 - OW is onstage at CinemaCon in Las Vegas when she is served custody papers. H is not there.
But where is H? According to the article - circus training!
Late April/early May - Harry starts training in Kent, England with family-owned Sanctus Circus.
From the article:
“A source told [the publication]: Harry has spent weeks being taught circus skills for this video — he wanted it to be a real spectacle.
'It is probably his most expensive video yet because as well as all the rehearsals, it was a huge set with loads of extras and really extravagant costumes'.
The source revealed to the publication that the singer pushed himself to the limit in order to perform the stunts. Adding: 'It's been a real undertaking and the finished product will prove why he's one of the biggest pop stars in the world.' “
So late April - May 11 - circus stuff. Which is part time and on-and-off, I imagine. Then filming. And this was an UNDERTAKING that would have required a lot of planning.
He even arranged to have live animals, as outlined here in an article with the horse and parrot handlers:
Some take aways:
- he was supposed to the riding *the WHITE horse*. And when that didn’t work, he ensured the white horse remained in the shot.
- they only had a short time to teach him with the animals, but he listened and did exactly what they said.
- the legendary Styles charm extends to grumpy parrots named Poppleguy. “He's a little bit picky and he went straight on Harry Styles' shoulder, the sign of a good vibe," [his owner] said.”
Who can resist this man?!
But he HAS to know that he’ll get questions about the song title, since it shares a name with a song by Blondie. And he gets photographed making this video - articles about it start appearing May 12, 2022.
So what does he do next? Creates a smoke screen! Good thing two of his best friends—Ben Winston and James Corden—run a late night show known for outrageous bits with musicians. And he has a long history of doing crazy things with them, so no one will bat an eye.
He heads off to NYC for Harry’s House promo and ONO, but first — he has a DUPLICATE video to shoot.
And it’s hilarious, watching him shock and delight a quartet of Brooklyn residents and their friends:
youtube
And look at the clapperboard to date it:
Bottom right - MAY 17/22.
The next morning, May 18, he is on air with Howard Stern who immediately brings up Blondie (look at H’s usual TS grin!!). And watch him evade:
“You’re reading too much into it…I know you’d like me to tell you ‘you’re spot on’ but…yeah, you’re not.”
But you know who thinks Howard actually is Spot On? Harry’s Mom!!
The Late Late Daylight video airs on May 26/27, 2022 (depending on your time zone). And here is Anne’s IG story when she watches it:
And then - Harry keeps the circus video in his pocket. For FIFTEEN MONTHS. And makes and releases other videos.
There’s background speculation that the still images captured (Birdrry) might be for a Daydreaming or Grapejuice or other video, despite the bird. After all - we already have a Daylight MV!
And then, on July 18th, 2023 at his penultimate HSLOT concert in Lisbon, Harry has the bird image shown on the screen as he finishes singing Daylight.
After the concert, we learn that the video will drop in July 19th at 5pm UK, 12 pm Eastern.
And while the As It Was video promo stated: “It’s just us”, this one proclaims “It’s just a video, just for you.”
Which naturally leads us to this parallel:
And it is followed by the 10-minute 2nd encore piano ballad at the final HSLOT concert on July 22, introduced in Italian by saying “I wrote this for you, just for tonight.”
**My theory - its release is another in a long line of grand gestures designed to remind and assure Blondie of his ongoing, perpetual love and devotion.**
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Am all for louis showing people their place when they try to talk about his relationship with WSH.. however he keeps feeding that fandom by following when they literally have song what HS name.. i mean how does he get triggered with chicken but does this? I know he cannot dodge people because of what fandom thinks but he does not also like when such things are being said about him!!!
It’s actually kind of funny how Dylan is kinda stuck with being known for the Harry Styles song.
She’s just beginning her career (with that cheap gimmick). Louis’ promoting Dylan, and knowing his Larrie fandom, she might never rise above the song if it’s up to them.
Unfortunately, Louis’ career has a huge cloud of “Larry” hanging over it. He can refute, mock, lash out, insult the idea all he wants, but until Louis and his team seriously start to promote him as a solo artist and build a serious solo fandom, he’s never going to shed 1D/ Larry.
Harry, Zayn, and Niall are pop stars, and pop stars operate by blanketing the general public soundspace with their songs (radio, Spotify, malls, grocery stores). Dylan is a pop girl and the music is already being played on BBC Radio 1. She’s going to succeed or fail based on how she is promoted, and it won’t be because of Louis.
Louis is an indie rock guy who gets no air time. The GP has no idea how to find his music. So far, his live music has sold on 1D nostalgia. The few times we hear his music in the wild have been in South America and Europe. He is unknown to the GP in the USA.
I think that doing the festival circuit will bring a lot of exposure to Louis as a solo star, but it depends on a few things. First, 1D cannot dominate his setlist. Second, Louis has to bring his best performance to every single gig. He needs to showcase the best solo songs (leave Saved By A Stranger at home) and to bring his vocals up to speed. That means rest, rehearsal, concentration, cutting down on smokes and alcohol, and bringing the vocal game. The GP isn’t impressed with One Direction; it’s history. We’ve all seen his solo performance chops, but most people haven’t even heard of Walls.
I think that Louis should also consider bringing back some of the best songs from Walls, to demonstrate his range. I would nominate Always You, Fearless, or Only The Brave rather than We Made It.
I remember solo Louies in 2018-19 hoping for solid marketing from Louis and his team, and brainstorming all sorts of ways to get him to the public (phone calls to radio stations, streaming parties, listening parties, fan-made merch since there was no official merch) but it all seems a bit of a waste of energy now that we have lived through 5 years of actual “marketing” from his team.
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Twst Characters as Music Artists
Riddle: Little Tart
Idk piano music? Asian traumacore (like me!) so maybe he just does piano covers.
Ace picked his name and now he doesnt know how to change it.
It is technically perfect but a soulless perfomance. Sucks to suck kid
Trey: Muffin Man
He is too busy to make music but someone sampled him for an audio clip and named him That as credit. A double betrayal.
alternatively cooking by the book remix ft lil jon vibes but only posts it once, and in a weird stress frenzy.
no he will Not talk about it tyvm
Deuce: 2euce
garageband beat maker, he wanted to do a fun play on his name but ace just calls him Two-ce. deuce does not like this.
Ace: DJ Ace
he doesnt even dj
Cater: Di4mond
lofi beats to shit and piss to
posts guitar covers, really giving softboy, genuinely pretty good but like kind of hates his music.
he is the person who inspired two-ce
Leona: King’s Roar
leona could not be assed to use his creativity to make a name so he looked as his unique magic like. yeah ok.
idk why but i can feel in my soul he could produce some FIRE beats, maybe even like put in joke sound samples of other people but remixes them in a way that sounds fucking good. he only posts like once every 6 months to a year but everyone gets real excited like BITCH I THOUGHT U DIED!!! nah, he was nappin.
he also does not read or respond to comments. he has a vague awareness his music is popular but also does not care. if u bring it up tho he's gonna be real smug about it. fucking asshole.
Jack: Unleash Beats
i could sit here and say i think jack was inspired by leona to play on is UM for a name but honestly i just thought it was so funny i almost crapped my pants.
maybe he raps if he doesnt cringe himself out.
Ruggie: RUGGIE
this is a classic man, no need to get weird he is ruggie and he knows it. actually might have gone by ruggie b on soundcloud, all lowercase, but leona let him be on one of his tracks, promptly forgot the name he used and couldnt be assed to check. typed RUGGIE in caps cuz thats deadass who he is. the song he did with leona was so popular he had to rebrand to keep the hype.
good at freestyle, more rnb vibes
Jade: Nothing (nothing is also not his name)
ok so you know AZARI???? that person with the viral and rather slappin' tunes and has no channel name and no video titles??? its just blank? thats jade. i dont want to imagine what sounds this monster produces but im going to say some words and let you fill in the rest in some lovecraftian horror
contra bass
5 amps
distortion
floyd walking in on him
a car crash
quits after like 3 songs he just wanted to see what would happen, step 293 in his 109283 step plan.
Azul: Over The Sea
idk more piano. chill lounge beats to extort innocents to
floyd's outdoor fit is azul merch
azul did force him to wear it
this means azul's merch is an ajuma visor. pop off king!
Floyd: beneath the waves
u know yuno miles? composer of such hits like dookie on my shoe and lay an EGG? floyd makes That.
someone invites him on stage to freestyle as a joke and he pulls the best freestyle rap you have ever seen. it is so fire the room starts smoking. did we order a fog machine? no? well shit. someone asks him to do it again and he says 'nah'
Kalim: The Sultan. Son of Song
i know he can sing but my mind says vegetales
someone pitches the name to him and hes like haha sounds cool! not slavemastercore at all :D (dont come for me)
Jamil: Viper
another lad who cannot be assed, but viper sounds cool so he wins this round.
makes the most angry diss tracks while making eye contact with kalim. kalim cheers.
Vil: Vil Schoenheit
he is boring and professional and it is the name listed in the credits for his next musical production.
Epel: Big Apple
im sorry about ur name epel
very angry. why is everyone is so angry.
Rook: The Hunter
leans into the french thing. uncomfortable sexual lyrics. not uncomfortably sexual, but like. uncomfortable and also sexual.
"I could smell you from across the room
The smell of your sweet perfume
Your body covered in white lace
Compels me to take chase, la chasse" (lyrics by @twsty-mad)
Idia: Gl00my Samurai
steve aoki
will mix orchestral soundtracks into his edm for optimal gaming experience
yes i did rip his gaming handle. i think for all he is people avoidant he would like people to recognize his prowess as an artist of game And song
Ortho: Soundboard
is how idia makes music
Malleus: m.d.
leonacore in that he doesnt post often but when it hits it hits. dark melancholy rap vibes.
uses his initials like when he signed off that christmas card
maybe even has a song about that and how he keeps waiting for a reply. add a return address next time
literally No information about him online, gives off mysterious anonymous vibes. who is he! does anyone know his alt accounts! no fool. he doesnt have any. he doesnt even have twitter. i think he is happier for this.
Sebek: Retainer to the Prince of Briar Valley
this man will not relax.
raps but really bad.
classified as screamo on decibel alone
Silver: silver lining
lofi music you can wake up to
"please god let it work this time"
it doesnt
Lilia: D.I.L.F.
Destroy Invalidate Lie and an F or SOMETHING that stands for dilf that isnt dilf just to stress his son out.
gaslight gatekeep girlboss but like idk edgy
makes death metal bagpipe music to surprise to (edited)
Made w/ @twsty-mad
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst headcanons#crack#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#ace trappola#deuce spa#cater diamond#leona kingscholar#jack howl#ruggie bucchi#jade leech#floyd leech#azul ashengrotto#jamil viper#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#idia shroud#ortho shroud#malleus draconia#sebek zigvolt#silver twst#lilia vanrouge
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When You Wake Up, Will You Walk Out? Chapter 8
Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader (note: reader is over the age of 18)
WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!)
Table of Contents | My Masterlist | AO3 Link
The Hideaway was as much of a dingy dive bar as you had expected. Your Keds clung to whatever substance coated the floor. A sticky pop accompanied each step you took.
Smoke clouded the air in the bar. The haze it cast combined with the heady feeling of each inhale made you feel as though you were walking in a dream.
Shaking your head to steady yourself, you took in the room around you. The crowd was buzzing with an electric energy, due in no small part to the bartender’s blind eye to the age of the patrons.
You were surprised by just how many teenagers were there. Though you knew the bands were comprised solely of high schoolers, the event wasn’t school-sanctioned and the drinking age was still very much 21.
You supposed the owners didn’t look too closely at IDs and feigned ignorance, but it was almost laughable how young some of the patrons were.
A couple of Eddie’s D&D disciples, kids who were no older than 14 or 15, were huddled together. With the skittish, uncertain looks on their faces, they reminded you of a herd of deer. They didn’t seem to be drinking, though, and so you turned your attention back to the task at hand.
As your eyes roved over the rest of the venue, they landed on the small stage and a doorway beside it. Supposing that was the backstage area for the bands, you made your way there and peaked through.
Suddenly, a meaty hand landed on your shoulder. You whirled around to face one of the largest men you had ever seen.
“Backstage is for bands only.”
“I’m with Corroded Coffin,” you lied immediately.
The bouncer took in your bright cheerleading uniform and gave you a skeptical look.
“I highly doubt that, sweetheart. No groupies until after the show.”
You bristled at being called a “groupie,” but nodded and sulked away.
It was probably for the best, anyway. You didn’t want to disturb Eddie before he had a chance to perform; if things went south, you’d be sabotaging his chances.
You retreated to the front of the bar, away from the small stage.
About to sit down, you paused when the merch table caught your eye. Remembering something Eddie had said the last time you saw him, you dug for your wallet and headed over.
Eddie tried to keep himself distracted leading up to the concert and failed miserably. It seemed a simple enough goal, but in the end his thoughts always drifted back to you.
During soundcheck he had at least been able to focus on tuning his guitar and warming up his voice, but the current chatter of his bandmates was mere background noise to his misery.
This is fucking pathetic, man, he mentally chastised himself. One of the biggest nights in your music career, and all you can think about is some girl.
But you weren’t just some girl, were you? That was the problem. You were the girl — his girl.
Or at least you should be.
He couldn’t shake the memory of the inscrutable look on your face after Jason kissed you. You seemed surprised, obviously, but beyond that he couldn’t gauge your feelings.
“Eddie, you okay, man?” Jeff asked. He was far more intuitive than most boys his age, and Eddie had trouble hiding his feelings from him.
Waving his friend’s concern away, Eddie smiled reassuringly. “Just a little stage fright, I guess.”
Jeff paused, giving Eddie a skeptical look. The two boys shared a silent understanding; they both knew Eddie wasn’t the type to get stage fright, meaning they both knew Eddie was lying.
Still, Jeff had the grace to leave well enough alone, and so he slowly nodded.
“You got performance anxiety, Munson?” Gareth quipped with a shit-eating grin, unaware of what had passed between his bandmates. Jeff elbowed him sharply, eliciting an involuntary oof. “It was a joke!”
He turned to Eddie with a look of exasperation and repeated himself. “It was a joke. You know that, don’t you, Eddie?”
“You’re a joke,” he replied, chucking his guitar pick at Gareth, who dodged it easily and yelled an irritated, “Hey!”
“Serves you right,” Jeff taunted, laughing for only a second before Gareth rammed into him.
Eddie shared a look of mild amusement with Freak as the boys grappled.
Turning back, he said, “Why don’t you spare my poor nerves and break each other’s arms after the show?”
Gareth shoved Jeff off of him with a grin. “Fine by me. I won anyway.”
“Did not!”
The two made to attack each other again and Eddie groaned internally. He thanked his lucky stars the other bands had already cleared out to the main portion of the bar so no one saw the childish display.
“Boys!” Eddie shouted, clapping loudly to get their attention. “We only have to get through three songs and then you can kick the shit out of each other. Can you behave until then?”
Each muttered a sullen “yes” at the scolding.
“Beautiful!” He hopped up, grinning with genuine excitement for the first time that night. “Let’s rock and roll.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Battle of the Bands!” the emcee howled into the mic with a grin, eliciting a round of woos from the intoxicated audience. “We’ve got a great line up for you tonight. Before we bring the first band on, I’m gonna explain quickly how voting works…”
You tuned out his voice, taking a sip of your water. The bartender had given you a funny look, surprised by the fact that you weren’t taking advantage of the lax rules like every other teen in the place.
Normally you’d be joining them, but you wanted to stay sharp tonight. You only had one chance to make things right with Eddie, and you didn’t want to squander it by being tipsy during your apology.
“Get ready for one hell of a show! Our first band is from Hawkins. Give it up for Corroded Coffin!”
Your breath caught when your eyes landed on Eddie. It was the first time you had seen him since your confrontation at the high school, and he was… beautiful.
With his wild hair and kohl eyeliner smudged around his eyes, he looked like one of the rock gods he admired. Even as your anxiety churned your stomach, desire filled you at the sight of him.
Barely acknowledging the crowd, the band members nodded to each other before launching into their first song. The bass boomed throughout the already-deafening sounds of the crowd.
You could feel its pulse thundering through your bones and rewriting the rhythm of your heartbeat as Eddie glanced up and met your gaze.
Or so you thought — his eyes slid away seconds later without any sign of recognition.
Camouflaged by the crowd and the shadowy corner your table was in, you realized you were invisible from the stage. You stood up slowly and trailed over behind a few rows of other concert-goers.
Mustering your courage, you started to move forward as Corroded Coffin wrapped up their first song.
Pausing only a moment for applause they went right into the second song, another thrashing headbanger.
Emboldened by the knowledge that Eddie was too enraptured to notice you mid-song, you moved through the crowd until you were only a few feet from the stage.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Eddie grinned into the mic as the song ended, barely audible over the roar of the crowd.
Eddie proceeded to introduce his bandmates to the audience, but you could only focus on him. He looked happy. Was that just for show? Or was he truly fine? Were you more broken up about how you left things than he was?
I shouldn’t have come here, you lamented internally, feeling your cheeks burn with shame.
You should have just let him move on with his life. You should have accepted that you fucked things up beyond repair. You should’ve-
“For this last song we’re gonna-”
Eddie’s voice caught in his throat, and this time you knew that his eyes had finally found yours. Meekly, you waved and mouthed hi, watching as his eyes dropped to the shirt you were wearing — the Corroded Coffin shirt you had just purchased from the merch table.
His expression changed infinitesimally, but you couldn’t tell what this new emotion playing across his face was.
“Um,” he started again, clearing his throat and flashing the crowd another grin. “For this last song we’re gonna slow things down a bit.”
His eyes returned once more to you as he gave a soft smile before Corroded Coffin began to play a ballad. It was a song you’d heard him singing to himself before when he thought you weren’t listening.
Eddie’s eyes stayed glued on you as he sang, and the heat in your cheeks shifted from embarrassment to something else entirely.
Time both froze and sped up, and before you knew it the song was over and he was addressing the audience again, thanking them for coming and encouraging them to vote for Corroded Coffin.
With a final glance at you, Eddie waved to the audience and left the stage with his bandmates.
You didn’t hesitate at all before following him backstage.
It took you a little longer to make it back there, as you practically had to fight your way through the rowdy crowd.
You burst unthinkingly through the door, interrupting the ongoing conversation among Corroded Coffin as all four boys turned to look at you.
“Give us a few minutes, guys,” Eddie dismissed them, shooting an irritated look at Gareth as they exited.
When Eddie turned back to face you, his expression turned to weary trepidation. As his eyes fell back on your outfit, though, his face softened.
“You’re wearing our shirt.”
“I wanted to support my favorite band,” you said with a small smile, making him roll his eyes.
“Laying it on a little thick there,” he snorted. “I, uh… I didn’t expect you to come.”
“Yeah, um, I wanted to talk to you.”
The trepidation returned to his eyes, but he pulled up a chair and gestured for you to speak.
“I’m not getting back together with Jason,” you blurted out. The only reaction he showed was a slight raise of his brows.
“Ah. What a shame.”
“Eddie, I don’t want to get back together with Jason.”
“No? Why’s that?” He tried to sound uncaring, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him.
“Because I don’t love Jason.”
You took one hesitant step toward him, and then another.
“I love someone else. But I’m afraid.”
You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously. “Of what?”
“That it’s too late,” you whispered, forcing your voice not to crack. “That I messed up and he’s done with me. That he- that you don’t want me anymore.”
“I…” he faltered, swallowing harshly. “I’m always gonna want you. But I don’t want to be your backup boyfriend.”
You shook your head harshly at the thought. “No, you’re not- you’re not the backup, not in the slightest.”
Needing him to believe you, you stepped closer and took his hands into your own.
“Eddie, I was too stupid to realize it before but… he’s nothing to me. Not anymore. And you… you’re everything.” Shameful, remorseful tears were falling down your face. “And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were anything less than that because you’re the most wonderful person I know and I… I love you, Eddie.”
He stared at you with wide eyes.
“You… me?” Eddie asked in vulnerable doubt, forgoing the fearful verb entirely.
“I love you,” you repeated forcefully, squeezing his hands for emphasis. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than anything.”
You choked on the last word as you brought your palm to his cheek, gently stroking his face. “So please just- just give me another chance.”
In the silence that followed, you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and your heart sunk as you waited for inevitable rejection.
“Say it again,” he ordered in a low tone, eyes dropping to your lips.
“What?”
“Say it. Again.” His gaze was severe and locked on you.
Licking your lips, you murmured, “I love you, Eddie.”
“Again,” he demanded more desperately, hands coming up to rest on your waist. “Please.”
“I love you,” you repeated yourself, lips forming an uncertain smile at his reaction. “I love you so much.”
He let out a faltering, unbelieving breath but otherwise said nothing. Furrowing your brows, you pulled back a bit to look at him.
“So…” you prompted, trying to keep the apprehension out of your voice. “Do you… will you give me another chance?”
Eddie’s gaze softened with affection. Reaching out, he tugged the edge of your skirt to bring you in closer.
“Y’ever hear that old Isley Brothers song, ‘This Old Heart of Mine’?” Eddie asked.
“What’s that got to do-”
“Wayne used to play it a ton. There’s a line that’s like-”
He paused, glancing at the ceiling as if the lyrics were written there before starting to sing.
“But if you leave me a hundred times, a hundred times I’ll take you back.” His voice cracked on the last few words and you giggled as he grinned bashfully. “Cut me some slack, sweetheart, I was just screaming on stage for 20 minutes.”
“But the point still stands,” he continued as he pulled you against his chest. Reaching out a finger, he tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “I’m all yours. I’ll always be yours.”
You let out a grateful whimper, surging forward to press your lips against his.
“Thank you,” you whispered between each kiss to his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Thank you.”
Eddie’s arms wound around your back, crushing you against his chest. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you inhaled deeply and took in that scent that had become home to you.
“Do you wanna go back out there with the guys?” you asked into his shoulder, feeling him shake his head as soon as the words left your mouth.
“In a bit, I just… let’s just stay like this for a while.”
You nodded, pressing a kiss into his neck and finding his hand with your own. Intertwining your fingers with his, you sighed and relaxed into the warmth of his body.
Jason, the jocks, the cheerleaders… They could talk and sneer behind your back, but you found you no longer minded. None of them mattered now.
The only person who mattered now was the boy standing before you, forgiving you and loving you. The boy whose shirt you wore, the boy whose concert you were at, and the boy whose hand you would gladly hold as long as he would let you.
previous chapter
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic#stranger things#when you wake up will you walk out?
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Old Man Steven Hyde, at 63. Objects in White.
-He and Jackie have been married for 41 years. She still drives him crazy sometimes.
-His grandkids, Caleb, Abbie, Liv, Rowan, and Declan, all call him Pop. Just like Red, may he rest in peace.
-He and Eric visit Kitty every day. Often, with their grandkids in tow. Rowan's her favorite, because he's so much like his grandpa Eric (also known as Poppy).
-Jackie and their son James helped reinvent Grooves, so Grooves wouldn't become another victim of the digital revolution. Along with the tunes, Grooves also sells musical instruments, band merch, and more. Grooves has also become a stage for some of Chicago's indie bands, and they play there on Friday and Saturday nights. With some good grub, of course.
-He rants and raves about the state of mainstream music all the time. Jackie often responds with a, "what about Adele?"
-He listens to Hozier's "Take Me To Church" and Maneskin's "Beggin" when no one else is watching (or listening).
-He hates Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg with a burning passion. He refuses to shop from Amazon, at Whole Foods, or use Facebook.
-He only has a Gmail (mostly for business) and a Spotify account. He doesn't want companies and the government watching him.
-The best things can be held in his hand. Records, books, cash. He keeps the digital crap to a minimum.
-He and the rest of the gang still toke it up sometimes. They have edibles, sometimes, courtesy of James's dispensery Holy Smokes. Which, conveniently, is right next door to Grooves.
#that 70s show#that 90s show#steven hyde#jackie and hyde#jackie burkhart#red and kitty#eric forman#eric and donna#my moodboards
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Another entry for Moto!Batch AU. Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega check out one of T-Bird's stunt shows.
Warning(s): mentions of past addiction,
Tagging: @kelpiesummer @ghostlythunderbird
The smell of burning rubber and the grease of questionable clawed its way to into the nostrils of anyone within a five mile radius of the fair grounds. A gathering crowd mixed with locals from the suburban sprawl looking for a bit of high octane excitement. They crammed in like sardines as they eagerly awaited the event.
“Can we sit up front?” A blonde haired teen asked her chaperones earning a dismissive sneer from the taller of the two.
“We’ll see what we can do.” Hunter replied offering a wave to a familiar face in the crowd. The woman who caught his glance returned the wave and began weaving her way through the onlookers. Her dark hair meticulously gathered into a messy bun.
“Glad you could make it,” Siren greeted, her gaze was drawn to the child at Hunter’s side, “and who’re you?”
“This is Omega. She-”
“I’m their sister.” Omega spoke up, causing Siren’s smile to grow.
“Ah, well I guess you’re used to getting primo access when your brothers race huh.”
Omega offered a shrug, “I guess. Mostly it’s the trailer on race day while Tech runs through homework with me.”
“Hmm, well if Hunter doesn’t mind, I can show you around a bit. My stunt rider will be on in a bit.”
Hunter gave a half hearted roll of his eyes. Omega’s eyes were glued to him. His sensitive hearing could already pick up the beginnings of a high pitched drawn out please.
Hunter sighed through his nose, “Alright,” He relented, earning a giddy grin from the girl, “but I’ll be coming along too. Might as well meet the rest of your crew while I’m able.”
“Excellent, most of them should still be by the trailer.” Siren replied before leveling her gaze to the surly rider, “Will you be joining us?”
Crosshair’s stony gaze gave Siren all the answer she needed.
“Oookay, so I can take you guys back now if you want.”
“These are awesome!”
T-Bird cracked a grin as she looked up from her bike. The sound of tools pinging together drew both of their attention.
T-Bird huffed a ghost of a laugh at seeing the flutter of the maintenance curtain.
“I wouldn’t take it personal. Nessie doesn’t do new people too much.”
“We’re…still working with her on that.” Siren chimed in.
“T-Bird, everything all ready to go?”
“Yep, but I always got time for a fan.”
“This is Omega, and you remember Hunter.”
T-Bird gave him a nod before focusing her attention on Omega, “So do you ride too?”
“Not professionally, no, but Hunter says once I’m done with school I could race on weekends when I’m in college.”
“If you keep your grades up.” Hunter butted in, “I’m interested to see you in action, T-Bird.”
“I’ll be sure to put on a good show.”
The curtain rustled again from the corner of T-Bird’s eye. However, another member of the crew popped an earbud out of her ear.
“Kelpie. Just the person I wanted to see.” T-Bird greeted, “You get the merch table set up?”
“Even got the new designs I printed this morning.”
T-Bird’s smile widened, “You know, it’d be a shame if someone wasn’t testing out our stuff.” She turned her gaze back to Omega and then back to Siren, “If it’s cool with you, I’m buying whatever the kid wants at our merch table.”
“Really?!”
“That’s kind of you.”
T-Bird offered a shrug, “Consider it an apology for me acting out during the meeting.”
Crosshair had chosen a seat near the end of the stands to keep his distance from the locals who were biding their time by inhaling some deep fried something. One of his brothers would feel right at home among them. The sharp tang of cigarette smoke wafted into his nose, and he inhaled deeply.
How long had it been? Omega was about 10 now, and she became of permanent house guest after her 7th birthday. His hand ferreted around in his pocket before producing a substitute that helped whenever a craving hit. The whisper of the pack sliding open was drowned out by the crowd chatter as he plucked up the slender piece of wood to perch between his teeth. He slouched in his seat as he waited for the show to begin.
The announcement system buzzed to life and began to welcome everyone to the stunt show. Hunter and Omega eventually made their way back to their seats. However, upon his sister's return Crosshair nearly dropped his toothpick.
“What. Are you wearing?”
“T-Bird let me have some merch, pretty cool right?”
The girl was completely decked out: shirt, hat, a lanyard around her neck. All with the stunt biker's logo plastered all over. Crosshair's lips formed a hard line.
“Spectacular.” He replied with a roll of his eyes.
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Whatcha thinking bout, D? ✨ Steddie Edition✨
Y'all remember warped tour? (And boy, do i feel old asking that one) Imagine Corroded Coffin being on the lineup for their 3rd or 4th year. They have become familiar faces, partially because of their devoted fans and partially because of the charismatic Eddie Munson, the lead guitarist of the band. He's a bit of a natural flirt and he works it to his advantage, mingling with the other artists and guiding lost fans around the grounds when he's not headbanging to another band's set. He and the boys are excited for another year of touring the states and seeing the new faces. According to their agent, there's a big indie band from Chicago joining this year. (Eddie and Gareth almost lost their shit when it sounded like Dio despite Jeff reminding them there's no way that's possible in 2016, dipshits) The lead singer's supposed to be some kind of heartthrob himself, but nothing prepares Eddie for Steve Harrington, wth his tight jeans and colorful polos. His stage presence is cool and cocky, riling up the crowd with a smirk and lazy smooch towards the barricade. His his hair shine under the stage lights and his eyes are hidden by dark shades-excepts for when he shits them down for a particular song. They're a pretty amber that lock on Eddie just as Steve leans into the mic and delivers a sultry "look into my eyes and baby, whisper fool" (If Eddie walks away, 'blushing like a slut' as Gareth would say...well, that's his business.) Steve agreed to the tour last-minute, the band still doing damage contrl after their guitarist, Billy threw a shit fit and left when they told him to sober up or leave. Jonathan, who he knows from college and through their mutual "ex-boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler" status, fills in as a favor and brings his little brother Will along. The younger boy helps out with merch and coordinating meet&greets with Robin, their maneger. He hears about Corroded Coffin before he sees them, their reputation as friendly faces preceeding them. Robin babbles his ear off one night about their smoking hot merch girl, who apparently looks out of place surrounded by metalheads and mychem fans. Maybe Steve sees Eddie later, near one of the music education tents, walking a starstruck Dustin henderson through a riff pattern for one of Corroded's older songs. Dustin is a vocalist and guitarist for The Party, an up and coming pop punk band that's also new on the lineup. There from Hawkins Indiana, not far from Eddie's hometown and credit Corroded Coffin as one of their main insporations growing up. He's seen the older boy walking around dressed in leather and chains, glowing with sweat and the post-gig high Steve knows well. But watching his patient grin with the younger boys sparks something softer in Steve. Steve and Eddie chat for the first time waiting for The Party's 20-min set to begin; Eddie comming to support Dustin, and Steve there at the request of Nancy who's brother Mike happens to be the lead singer. After watching Eddie bop around in low-rise jeans and a crop top, bare hips swaing to the beat, Steve's sweating from more than just the sweltering heat. He talks to Jon, Tommy and Carol (his drummer and keys player) and they agree to add "Brand New Baby Girl" to the set with little question. They make it a point to watch each other's sets, either lingering sidestage or standing somewhere visible in the crowd. Occasionally, Eddie will crash a meet&greet, snagging Chrissy from the merch table to distract Robin. The fans start catching on and #Steddie becomes a popular tag on Tumblr, full of photos documenting their "bromance." A short video of them singing along to The Party's hit "Friends Don't Lie" goes viral.
#this one's for my skater bois and emo gyrls#and all the alt kids in between#Steddie#stranger things#Steve x eddie#blame fool by Djo for this one#he knew what he was doing#brainrot blues#hcs by d#tbc? well...we'll see
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