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waratah-moon · 11 months

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oh my god this sounds soo good

"What were you thinking?" "To be honest, I wasn't" (Eddie does something stupid that puts both your names on every single tabloid in the city)”

“I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot.” Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Famous!Reader WC: 1.8k Warnings: set in the 90s, alcohol consumption, mentions of Pam & Tommy, lil magazine cover edit at the bottom for vibe purposes only. masterlist / send me a message 💌 / other prompt drabbles

This was not Eddie’s most sober moment. In the process of waiting for their final category to be announced at the 37th Annual Grammy Awards ceremony, he’d downed three Jack and Cokes and taken one too many shots. In his defence, they’d performed their biggest single earlier in the ceremony and he was still chasing the adrenaline high that came from a lengthy round of applause. They’d also won Best Metal Performance; not that he cared about that too much.

Corroded Coffin was no stranger to Grammy awards. They’d won two Grammys the first year they were nominated. One for Best New Artist, which was a shock to everyone as it had never been awarded to a heavy metal band before, and one for Best Metal Performance for their debut album. That had been a years ago.

Eddie didn’t care about winning awards. To him the fun part was making the music and performing it. The only opinions that mattered to Eddie were those of the fans. And maybe some of his fellow musicians. But in the end the Grammys for the rock and metal categories were ultimately voted on by people who didn’t even understand the genres, so to Eddie their award didn’t matter. But now they were nominated for one of the big categories; Record of The Year. That meant a little more.

He felt you place your hand on his knee, it must have been bouncing because he suddenly felt it still.

“Nervous?” Your voice was quiet beneath the chatter of the theatre, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Never,” he responded, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance on his face.

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m always fidgeting.”

“More so than usual,” you took his hand in yours, twisting the silver signet ring you’d bought him for your one year anniversary. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. “I’m so proud of you.”

“What if we don’t win?”

“I’ll break up with you.” You saw confusion pass over his face and you laughed. “If you don’t win, you don’t win. Doesn’t change anything, Eds. You already have three Grammys, I’m not sure we even have the room for another one.”

“You’re right, the space on the mantel is saved for your Oscar.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed. You went to speak but Garret hushed you as “Record of The Year” flashed on the screen behind the stage.

Eddie couldn’t breath as he listened to the presenters read out the nominees, his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. He gripped your hand tightly, his toes fidgeting in his shoes. Suddenly people in the seats around him sprung up, hugging and cheering each other.

"You did it, baby," Eddie felt you kiss him quickly before Garret blindly led him through the audience.

The band made their way to the stage for the third time that night, energy buzzing around them. Garret thanked the presenters and pushed Eddie in front of the microphone for the acceptance speech. the applause died down as the crowd listened to Eddie speak.

“Uh, wow. To be honest I don’t think any of us know what to say right now. Bands like ours never win this award so none of us were expecting it. Thank you for thinking our music is good,” he went to step away from the mic when Jeff said something to him, pushing him back to centre stage. “Oh shit, yeah. We’d like to thank our manager John, Tim and Suzy at Columbia, and Joel who worked his ass off in the studio.” Eddie’s eyes were hazy but they still managed to find you in the crowd. “Finally I need to thank my favourite girl. My muse. My beautiful wife. This is your song, baby. None of it would be possible without you,” he raised the award in the air while his band members shook his shoulders and clapped him on the back.

The rest of the night was a blur. You ended up at some after party hosted by god knows who, but you spotted some familiar faces. Pamela Anderson was in the corner watching after her brand-new husband as he did the drunken rounds pestering other guests. Eddie had told you he’d never liked Tommy, but you both loved Pam. You left Eddie’s grasp as he chatted away to some producer and headed for the blonde.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” you smile.

“I could say the same for you,” Pam pulls you into a hug which you return with a squeeze. When you pull back she takes your left hand in hers and inspects it. “No ring?”

You frown, “huh?”

“You got married and you didn’t get a ring?”

Your eyes widened. What? “Married? Who said I got married?”

“Eddie… When he… wait,” she blinked, her eyes travelling from Eddie back to you. “He called you his wife in his speech, everyone’s talking about it. Honestly I’m just upset I wasn’t invited.”

You flashed back to the ceremony, trying to remember what Eddie had said but blanking on everything past him calling you his “favourite girl.”

“We didn’t get married. We’re not even engaged,” you tell her. Your eyes wandered over to Eddie who had his arm over Garret’s shoulder and was laughing at something Jeff was saying. You’d been together for three years now with them being the happiest of your life. You had no doubt that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The two of you had talked about your future together before, both of you certain that you had one together, but he hadn’t popped the question. Yet. “Everyone’s talking about it?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m sure everyone will forget about it by tomorrow. Come on, let’s get some drinks, I have to tell you about my wedding.”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

You woke up the next day with a headache and an answering machine full of messages.

“Bitch you got married?!”

“Sweetie, I’ve spoken with a lawyer and we can get this annulled, please call me back when you get this message.”

“Darling, we need to talk about media strategy, the tabloids are having a field day with the shotgun wedding headline. I can get you on the Tonight Show tomorrow.”

It was past noon when Eddie sleepily entered the kitchen, oblivious to your tense state as you sat at the kitchen counter, hunched over a magazine, a half eaten muffin on the plate beside you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Did you make muffins?” His voice was muffled as his face was pressed into the crook of your neck.

“Nope. Carla dropped them off. Along with this,” you held up the cover of the magazine.

A red carpet picture of you and Eddie was splashed across the cover alongside the title: AMERICA’S SWEETHEART AND ROCK AND ROLL BAD BOY GET HITCHED.

He took the magazine from your hand, holding it closer to his face, “rock and roll? Corroded Coffin is heavy metal.”

You groaned, “that’s what you’ve taken from this? Eddie, everyone thinks we got married.”

He hummed thoughtfully, dropping the tabloid back on the counter. He broke off a piece of your muffin and tossed it in his mouth. “Not that I mind, but why do they think that?”

You spun the barstool around to face him, his hands finding purchase on your hips. “You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, thinking. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, his hair mused from sleep. “No. What did I say?”

“When you won the grammy, after you thanked everyone, you thanked me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his thumbs stroking the skin of your hips.

“You called me your wife.”

He squinted, trying to force his words to appear in his mind but failing. “Oh.”

“What were you thinking?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t. I was drunk, baby. It must have just slipped out.”

You covered his hands on your hips with yours, eyes wide as you watched his expression. “How does that just slip out, Eds?” He was chewing his lip now, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation. “Do you think of me as your wife?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“‘Course.”

“I love you. Our entire lives are intertwined. In all the important ways, you’re already my wife.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and suddenly your face felt hot. “But you haven’t asked me.”

“Do you wanna get married?” Yes, yes, yes.

“You have to ask me properly.”

He huffed, dropping his hands from your hips and as he kissed your forehead. “Wait here.”

As Eddie disappeared from the kitchen you allowed yourself a moment to silently scream, fanning your cheeks. You were overwhelmed; too many thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what on earth was happening. It didn’t help that there was certainly alcohol still buzzing through your system. You swallowed the rest of the coffee that was sitting on the bench and pinched your wrist in an attempt to wake yourself up. Your mind still felt cloudy.

When Eddie finally returned, your eyes fell to his hands; he was fiddling with something small and velvet. “I was planning on doing this somewhere romantic. Maybe the lookout on Mullholand, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you and me.” He knelt down on one knee, opening the small box in his hand to flash a sparkling ring. “Baby, you’re the only person I want to go to sleep with, wake up with, spend my days with. You’re my favourite person. You’re my heart, my soul, my everything. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

“Eds,” you felt your eyes getting wet as you watched the man you loved on his knees before you.

“Will you marry me?”

You were nodding before you got the words out, “yes, of course I will.” Your hands went to his cheeks and you leant down to kiss his lips.

“Here, put this on before I drop it,” he took your left hand from his cheek, slipping the ring on your finger. You held your hand out, watching as the light bounced off the stone, making it sparkle. It was huge.

“Jesus christ, this weighs a ton.”

“Metal makes money, baby. Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. How long have you been hiding this?”

He pondered the question, “I bought it last year.”

“Last year? We could have been engaged since last year? You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“But now I’m your idiot.”

“You’ve always been my idiot.”

4 months later...

note: Yes, that's JLo's 2000s Ben Afleck ring bc I think it's the height of celebrity extravagant rings lol not my style but sooooo 90s/00s.

taglist: @geekyfifi @livsters @bailey1212@babyfrosty@becca-alexa @munsonology @celestialuna13 @69your-best-night-mare69 @unknowniteminthebaggingarea @micheledawn1975 @neewtmas @silky-luxe @lokis-little-fawn @starrthemushroom @eddies-puppet

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #famous!reader #maggie writes #stanger things

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hyungieyoongi · 1 year

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Butterflies

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FLUFF + Strangers to Lovers + Woozi from Seventeen playing matchmaker

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: Requested by anon for my follower milestone celebration!

Yoongi was exhausted. His feet were dragging along the tile floors of the Hybe building, eyes blinking slowly as he tried to get his bearings after his international flight. The jet lag was kicking his ass, but his upcoming deadline for the project he was working on made him choose coming to the studio rather than passing out at home.

Hearing two voices he wasn’t used to, he squinted down the hall, seeing Woozi laughing with someone outside of his studio door. Yoongi frowned, wondering what the producer from Seventeen was doing on the BTS floor. Woozi noticed Yoongi standing there with a confused expression on his face, giving his hyung a small head nod as a greeting.

“Hyung, what are you doing here? Are you looking for someone?” Woozi asked. Yoongi watched as the girl he was with turned to look at who Woozi was talking to.

“I, uh, guess I got off on the wrong floor,” Yoongi murmured, eyes never leaving the mysterious girl’s shocked expression as she stood frozen in place next to Woozi.

“Oh, well, maybe get some rest, hyung,” Woozi chuckled, opening his studio door for the girl to follow him inside. Yoongi took a step forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up. He didn’t want the girl to leave. He wanted to know her name, know her story. The door to Woozi’s studio closed.

Yoongi knew he had to see you again.

---

You couldn’t believe you had just seen him. Min Yoongi. In person. And you had stood there like an idiot, gaping at him. You just let Woozi talk to him and acted completely rude.

What an idiot, you thought to yourself, groaning.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Woozi asked, left ear covered by his headphones, right ear uncovered and able to listen to you groan in embarrassment.

“I cannot believe I didn’t say anything,” you said, falling on the couch in Woozi’s studio with a dramatic thump. “I have loved Yoongi for years, and the one time I get the chance to tell him how much he means to me and how much I love his music, and I blow it. Completely. I’m so embarrassed.”

Woozi laughed, opening a Coke Zero and handing it to you before opening his own can.

“Listen, if you really feel that badly, I’m sure I could introduce you to Yoongi-hyung another time,” Woozi reassured you.

“No, no, that would almost be worse. I don’t want everyone around here knowing I’m ARMY. Then they’re going to assume the only reason I became a stylist for Seventeen is to get close to BTS.”

You were hired by Hybe a few months ago, working exclusively with Seventeen. Once Woozi discovered that you were an undercover kpop fan, he started using you as a sample audience for songs he was working on. Unfortunately, Woozi also knew that he technically wasn’t your favorite producer in the Hybe building. That label was reserved for Min Yoongi and Min Yoongi only.

“Alright fine, you can stop with the dramatics—your secret is safe with me. Yoongi probably didn’t even notice you were acting weird.”

“Fine, fine, just play the song you wanted me to hear. Distract me, I’m begging you,” you groaned, leaning back on the sofa.

“Gladly,” Woozi said with a chuckle, pressing the space bar on his computer so you could hear what he was working on.

---

A couple of weeks later, you were still trying to forget the run-in with Yoongi every time you entered the Hybe building.

Woozi had texted you to meet him at his studio in the afternoon; despite it being your day off, you couldn’t say no to your friend. You rapped your knuckles on the door, not expecting Yoongi to open the door to the studio. You let out a little squeak, quickly dropping in a bow in front of him.

“Y/N, hey, this is Yoongi-hyung,” Woozi said nonchalantly, spinning back toward his desk in his chair.

“Um, it’s…it’s an honor, I mean, it’s so nice to meet you,” you stumbled on your words, trying not to embarrass yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Y/N,” Yoongi said, a shy smile on his face. You had to remember to keep breathing as you took in the man in front of you. His long, dark hair was tucked behind his ear, pale skin contrasting with his dark hoodie. Yoongi looked down at your hands; you were carrying two iced coffees for you and Woozi, hands trembling slightly with nerves.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I would have gotten you something if I knew you were going to be here,” you apologized. You could tell Yoongi was trying not to laugh at your flustered state.

“No worries, please don’t be sorry,” he reassured you.

“Y/N, would you get in here please, and stop being weird?” Woozi said from his chair. You glared at the back of his head, annoyed with him for outing you like this.

Yoongi stepped to the side, letting you pass him to enter the studio. You put Woozi’s coffee down on his desk, unsure of what to do next.

“Woozi told me you’ve been giving him feedback on some of his songs,” Yoongi said, startling you slightly. You nodded, throat feeling incredibly dry and your mouth unable to form words all of a sudden. “I actually stopped by today to see if I could get your opinion on something I’ve been working on.”

“What?” you asked, surprised. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m a bit stuck on a track, and he mentioned that you’re ARMY, actually. I was hoping for some help,” Yoongi explained.

“Did he?” you questioned, giving Woozi a pointed look. He held up both of his hands innocently.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help Yoongi-hyung out here,” Woozi said defensively.

“Sure you were,” you murmured to him, hoping Yoongi couldn’t hear. Based on the way he was trying—and failing—to look uninterested when you looked back up at him, you were pretty sure he could.

“Would you mind? I don’t mean to be a bother.”

“Of course, not a bother at all,” you reassured. “You know I’m not like a professional or anything, right? My opinion probably won’t be all that much help,” you joked.

“ARMY’s opinion is the opinion that matters the most, isn’t it?” Yoongi earnestly replied. You flushed under his gaze.

“Right. Of course.”

“Shall we?” Yoongi asked, holding the door open for you. You glanced back at Woozi; you made a mental note to kick his ass later for the knowing smirk that was painted across his face.

“Lead the way,” you said, following him.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies; you couldn’t believe this was happening to you.

Little did you know that a few steps ahead of you, Min Yoongi’s heart was racing, anxious to get your thoughts on the song, nervous to be alone in a room with you, excited about the thought of getting to know you.

Glancing shyly at Yoongi in the elevator, you noticed the pink tinge of a blush on Yoongi’s cheeks. Maybe you wouldn’t yell at Woozi after all.

---

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raytorosaurus · 1 year

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I could never say this publically but I think wttbp is somewhat overplayed and overhyped. It's a fun song but compared to other mcr anthems it's too perfected and sanitised imo? I can't deny that it's still so much fun live, but it's a skip on a normal listen.

disclaimer. taste is subjective and i respect that and celebrate diverse opinions in our little fandom o7 you do you king.

however.

you're breaking my heart you're breaking my fucking heart....in what way is wttbp perfected or sanitised compared to INOK.........there are a billion things going on at any given second, every time you listen you can pick out something new going on in the background.........the guitar solo in the final studio version was recorded in a hotel room on ray's shitty practice amp when he was rehearsing before tracking and it was never meant to be used but it ended up being their favourite take (bc ray kept fucking up the last day in the studio bc he "didn't want it to be over") so they put it in.........and it shows like that whole solo section..if you listen closely you can hear the metronome behind the opening piano notes bc again i think it was only meant to be a demo but they liked it...........their family members are featured on it................if it sounds perfected that's because it IS PERFECT IN ITS INSANITY. it's not overplayed and overhyped, if anything it's UNDERhyped because it's played so much.

genuinely take a step back and listen with fresh ears.....open ur heart and let it get crushed like an empty coke can by the Music......listen to the instrumental version with your eyes closed. let it take you on a journey and tell me you don't feel fundamentally changed as a person, moved by something larger than human comprehension. tell me you aren't breathless with amazement at what music can do. we literally need to denormalise the black parade y'all are forgetting how LUCKY we are to have her.

anyway if any mcr song is overrated it's inok ✌️

#half-joking at the end skdkfkf is mainly for comedic effect. it is my opinion tho <3 #anyway this is actually a pretty common tske i feel like i hear a lot of ppl say wttbp is overhyped #STOP AND THINKKKKKKKK ....... BE REAL ........#answered #mcr talk #also anon just in case: you genuinely are entitled to ur opinion im not actually mad!! jsyk <3

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savventeen · 8 months

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hmm savv what would u do with mutual pining and woozi? :3c

daisy,,, beloved,,,,,,,,,, how dare you make me think about mutual pining w/ woozi ( /hj ) (i am already pining for him and thinking abt MUTUAL pining is going to drive me actually insane methinks g o d sdkjflskjdf)

ok so. SO. after vibrating in my seat and fantasizing abt lying down in the middle of the floor for the rest of time as i think about this concept, i have come to the following conclusion: mixtapes. and i mean in the classic "hey i made you this mixtape" sense

reader and jihoon are both producers for the same label and don't really interact that much at first. in fact, they don't actually even meet for the first time until soonyoung invites them both to his birthday party and they start talking shop, bonding over teasing soonyoung, and then ending the night with a promise to grab lunch together sometime.

fast forward a couple of months and they are officially Friends. they've managed to start a tradition of getting lunch together once a week and bitching about various work bullshit, and they've also started to hang out together in group settings after realizing they have more mutual friends as well

reader is the first one to send jihoon a song. it's a few hours after their weekly vent session, jihoon having taken up most of the time complaining about shitty higher-ups giving ridiculous deadlines and stuck-up idol wannabes trying to tell him how to do his job without having a clue about what his job actually is, and he gets a message from reader that says "i feel like this fits ur current mood" with a link to a song. [cw the song linked has a somewhat startling gun sound] he clicks on the link, curious, and then bursts out laughing after a few confused moments of listening bc that was NOT what he was expecting, at all

and that's how it starts, really. a few days later, he sends reader a song with the caption "how much u wanna bet soonyoung would choreograph something to this just bc it has the word 'tiger' in the title" / "no bet he absolutely would" / "ur no fun :P" / "sorry can't hear you i'm sending it to soonyoung as we speak"

pretty soon they're sending songs back and forth almost daily "what are ur thoughts on this" / "?? i don't speak french" / "and?" / "...ok yeah this is p good" "is this kinda close to the vibe you're trying to get for that one group you're working with?" / "not quite. but that's ok bc IM Vibin with this one" "i need u to stop whatever ur doing and listen to this with the bassist bass you can get with w/ ur setup" / "ok??" ... "holy shit" / "RIGHT?"

fast forward another couple of months, and reader shows up to jihoon's studio with a can of coke zero and a flash drive. "what's this?" / "this, my dear woozi-ssi, is going to be the solution to our creative blocks" and then reader goes on to explain their idea: they both have tracks that they're stuck on (personal, professional, or otherwise), and so they're gonna 'sisterhood of the traveling pants this shit' ('i literally have no idea what you're talking about'). aka: reader put some files they're having trouble with on this flash drive, and jihoon's gonna add any notes/ideas he has and then give it back with some of his own trouble files on it. rinse and repeat

and not only does it work ("ohmygod i've been trying to figure out that bridge transition for DAYS THANK YOU") but it also becomes Their Thing. like, they're used to collaborating with other writers/producers/etc bc it comes with the job, but something about this silly little flash drive... feels Special. [*cough*it's because they're catching Feelings*cough*]

tHIS IS GETTING SO LONG FUCK OKAY other things i would include in this fic: - one noticing the other has been working on a lot more love songs lately (or maybe a lot more Sad (read: pining) love songs) - reader has a bad day at some point and they end up losing the flash drive and they have a breakdown over it (jihoon comforts them and also helps them find it we love emotional hurt/comfort in this household) - scenes where they're individually waxing poetic about the other to different friends and the friends are like "bro. ur in love with them" "uh, no? they just have a great work ethic and a great taste in music also their lyricism is just—" "you. are. in. love." "i admire them professionally!

AND THEN THE CONCLUSION!! one of them decides to bite the metaphorical bullet and confess their Feelings. this could be either of them, but i'm gonna go with jihoon bc i can. so of course he can't just say "hey i love you" like a normal person, he has to confess through music. so he goes out and buys a new flash drive (with a really cute cover bc he knows they'd like it) and puts two folders on there. the first folder is full of instrumental files and is titled "all the times i couldn't find the words". and the second folder is titled "and all the times i could" and it's all love songs he's written inspired by/for reader

he sneaks into their studio and leaves the flash drive on your desk while you're in a meeting, and then he Waits and waits and waits some more until it's time to go home and it's been total radio silence and his heart feels like it's been crushed. so he starts to head home in the rain (bc i am a cheesy bastard and love rainy confession scenes) but after a few minutes of walking he hears shouting behind him and he turns to see you sprinting at him while screaming his name and before he can get a word out you're clutching his shoulders, soaked to the bone and asking "do you mean it? the songs, did— do you really mean it?"

and all he can do is nod because his heart still hasn't quite found its way back to his chest yet, and then he can't nod anymore because you're kissing him. you're kissing him, and he drops the umbrella he was holding and you're both kissing in the rain bc you're both obnoxious helpless romantics and "y/n-ah, i mean it— i mean it. i love you"

"i love you too, you stupid romantic bastard oh my god"

"hey, you're the one who started kissing me in the rain"

and it ends like the cheesy romcom this turned into bc i couldn't help myself and i need to lie down in a puddle of feelings now k thx

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

#savv answers #savv writes #ask game #daisy 🍚#daisy im so emo and its all ur fault lskdjflksjflksj #I AM HAVING #TOTALLY NORMAL AND SANE FEELINGS RN #SO normal and sane #:''D #im mclosing it actually but its Fine

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kashmirichaiwithmehr · 2 years

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#at random times throughout the year ill listen only to desi music #and rn i am in that moment #ive been listening to my desi playlists on repeat #bollywood #coke studio <3 #and espppppp my punjabi playlist #the happiness that punjabi songs bring is unmatched #mehrtalks

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mxtantrights · 7 months

Text

Famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK EIGHT: POPROCKS AND COKE

The offer is staring you right in the face. You could literally pay for a year’s rent with this opportunity. You could have a little bit left over for fun or for a big emergency. You could do so much with this offer.

But you really don’t want to take it. You feel like if you do, whatever is happening between you and Dick can’t happen. If he keeps kind of being your boss, you cannot ask him out. There is no way.

You’d probably look like a fool. And maybe you’d be laughed of the industry, having to find a normal job somewhere doing things you don’t like. Could you see yourself being a music video actor for the rest of your life? Of course not. But since you’ve started you want to see it through.

You sigh and shut your laptop. The stress had been lingering since you got the notification on your phone last night. Just thinking about it turned you in knots. Did Dick not see you in that way? Even though Theo theorized that he might feel the same way you do, you aren’t sure that’s true. And if he wants you to work on another video with him how could it be true?

You pick up your phone from the couch and decide to leave your apartment. Working on autopilot you lock up and take the elevator down, and there on the sidewalk in front of your place is an older man with a box.

“Can you help me?” He asks you directly.

You look up and down the block first. There is no one else outside on this street but the two of you so it would be mean to ignore him. Then again this could be som weird stunt and you didn’t want to get yourself hurt.

You look at the man again, “What’s in the box.”

“She’s all yours if you want her.”

You want to back up and walk away from the man. But he’s quicker then you and leans the box down so you might look inside of it. Your eyes catch a glimpse of something moving inside , underneath a read blanket. Your mind thinks the worst.

“Sir, is—if that’s a baby maybe we should drop it off at a firehouse.” you say. He shakes his head, “it’s a puppy.”

And sure enough the pup pokes it’s head out of the blanket. It’s not facing you at first. It’s head turns left then right and then all of a sudden the pup looks at you. A gray and white puppy with familiar blue eyes.

You were done for.

Dick is listening to the final mix of the song and he feels like something is missing. The words are great and they feel real and authentic. The production is like nothing he’s ever tried before and yet it works. But there is something that is glaringly missing from the overall song.

He sits back in his seat.

Then he turns to the producers, Dinah and Constantine. He can’t believe he’s sitting in room with Constantine but stranger things have happened. Zantana recommend him seeing as this was a new sound in his wheel house.

“Something is missing.” Dick says.

“I agree, but I can’t pin point what it is.” Dinah replies. Constantine suddenly gets up from his seat with out another word. He’s up and then he’s standing right in front of Dick. Dick isn’t sure why but honestly the three of them have been the studio for four hours now so he’s not thinking clearly anymore.

“The person you wrote this song for, do they know it’s about them?” Constantine asks.

Dick sheepishly looks around, “No, but I was planning on telling them—hold on what does that have to do with anything?”

Constantine smiles, “It has everything to do with it. Music is a secret langue between people. If you’re making a song for someone there needs to be something in there to let them know it’s for them.”

Dick shakes his head, “I’m not changing the lyrics.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying maybe there’s an instrument they like, or a sound. Something you can include in the song that would only be between the two of you.” Constantine says.

Dick sits and thinks to himself. Well, he can’t go asking you what your favorite instrument or sound is now. You’d for sure know the song was about you, and he wasn’t sure he could do that yet. Not with the offer hanging over your head too.

Was there something else?

Constantine walks away, further into the studio. He has a bag of chips, halfway gone already, that he wants to finish.

Dick shuts his eyes to think. He knew your favorite color. He knew how you took your tea. He knew plenty of things about you. But that would be too forward. What was one thing the two of you shared that wouldn’t make this whole thing weird?

Then it hits him. He knows exactly what the song is missing. He opens his eyes and fishes his phone out of his pocket. He starts texting his assistant for b footage from the music video.

“Dinah, it’s the intro.” Dick says.

Dinah doesn’t say anything. She just moves the track to the beginning and presses play. The start of the song floods the room and Dick doubles down on his idea. His assistant sends over a folder of videos. He knows which one to look for.

The one he took of you standing in the middle of the blocked off street. He had managed to record it while you were staring off into the distance, and no one on set was making noise. It was just the sound of wind on grass, a faint airplane maybe.

“Let me airdrop this to you, maybe we can put it at the begging and have it fade into the song.” Dick says.

Dinah nods, “Alright Richard, I like where you’re going with this.”

“Me too.” Constantine says with his mouth full.

You’re scrolling on your phone trying to find the nearest pet store when you see a link to one of those trashy news sites. You don’t want to click on it but you feel like you have to when you see Dick’s name.

You wish you hadn’t.

The article, if you can even call it that, is just a run down of his former relationships and some speculation. But another thing catches your eye. Once towards the beginning and then again at the end. Donna Troy and Zantana. You look at the images again and then it hits you.

Those pictures are new. He went to Donna’s house. Zantana went to his house. Theres one of him and Donna hanging out at a food place. And there is one of him leaving the studio with Zantana. Your whole body deflates.

A part of you, a very small part, thought you had basically no chance with Dick. It was the more ‘realistic and sensible’ part. The part that told you to not over spend incase you might need the money later, and to not over drink because no one likes a hangover. That part of you is almost always right. And these pictures all but confirmed it.

You exit the news site and tap your way on to your email where you draft up a response to accept the offer. Yes it’s really going to suck to have to be all lovey dovey in a video with a guy you know you have feelings for. But on the other hand at least some of your bills would get paid.

A soft whine comes from your side. You look down at the gray baby pit bull laying on your couch who is looking up at you.

“I’m gonna find a name for you, I promise.” You say, as if the puppy can understand you.

And yet, she yips and runs off your couch like she does. You sit back and type on your phone. Maybe this will be the last time you see Dick Grayson and you can let your heart move on. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this business at all if you fell in love with a heartbreaker.

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc x you #dc fic #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson imagine #dick Grayson x you #dick Grayson fic #famous dc! au (dick's version)

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 6 months

Text

OOR 2009 - Nr 10 - Rammstein interview

Rammstein

Six voices, no harmony

The moment OOR returns from Berlin it drops be in the mailbox: the video clip for Pussy, the first single from Rammstein's sixth studio album Liebe Ist Für Alle Da. It's a kind of, well, wie sage ich das jetzt... Please see for yourself and make your own judgement. Guitarist Richard Kruspe had already warned us the day before: "Bigger, better, more extreme" is still the motto of Germany's biggest metal band. A motto that Rammstein has condemned itself to over the past fifteen years, Kruspe admits when we speak to him about the most difficult record the band ever had to make. OOR visited the guitarist in Berlin and flew with red sympath... sorry, ears back.

by Willem Bemboom

Durch Berlin fliesst immer noch die Spree... The old Berlin song comes up when OOR reports to the German headquarters of record company Universal. Inside a typical modern multimedia office, with Moke's Shorland in the listening post, on the banks of the Spree, you are in the middle of the history of the twentieth century. Twenty years ago, this was one of the most scarred places in torn Berlin: directly to the right of the office, the Oberbaumbrücke spans the river. Nowadays the U-bahn runs back and forth over the picturesque building, but in GDR times the bridge formed one of the borders between east (Friedrichshain) and west (Kreuzberg), meaning that only western pedestrians were allowed to pass. Along the road behind the bridgehead begins the East Side Gallery, an elongated preserved part of the Berlin Wall, where artists have enjoyed themselves. The old Ostbahnhof, gateway to Warsaw and Moscow, is now hidden from view from here by the brand new O2 World sports complex. And although Berlin started a great catch-up race immediately after the fall of the wall, the horizon is still dotted with cranes that plant futuristic-looking new things in the cityscape.

A cityscape that Richard Kruspe, guitarist of Rammstein, hardly recognizes. The riff-slinging flamethrower from the stage welcomes us with the friendliest smile and a diet coke in an office on the sixth floor. Previous interviews with Rammstein always meant the presence of an interpreter, but Kruspe, who lives in New York, has no problem with English as the main language. He uses a lightning-quick, thick American/German accent, which is almost eerily correct in terms of intonation. Only the slightly too long rolling 'r' in his pronunciation betrays a different native language. "I moved to New York in 2000 and I no longer recognize the Berlin of that time. It has suddenly become very hip to live, for artists from all over the world. Life is very cheap here, especially compared to other European cities. If you are a starting artist you have to work at least three jobs elsewhere to pay the rent, and then you no longer have time for your music or paintings. Berlin is perfect for such people and also acts as a magnet to others. I now see a much more vibrant, creative Berlin than I am used to."

And the difference with the GDR period?

"Well, the wall has now disappeared in every respect. When I walk through my old neighborhood, I see a mix, there are no longer places where only people from the east or west live. I actually think that's quite a shame, it had something typical. But Berlin will always keep changing and that is a very good thing. You hear all kinds of different types of German and languages from all over the world. A sign that the city is alive. When I first moved here, that was not the case. Berlin was cold, colourless, generic. I knew I had to go here to start a career and meet people who wanted the same thing as me, but I didn't like it here. It was difficult to survive, not obvious in any case. If there were people with the same ideas, they acted very elitist. As an outsider you were not just accepted into a group. In a sense, Berlin is still hard. When I came here with my ex-wife, she did not like it And neither does my girlfriend at the moment; I showed her some places from the past yesterday and she accidentally walked on the bike path. Then someone got off his bike and hit her in the head. This way I know the city again, I thought to myself. Welcome to Berlin, baby! But the city looks beautiful, especially the old east. The architecture and new city planning make it an open whole. Not so typically German anymore, more a mix of different cities and eras."

Growing up in the Eastern Bloc is something we in the Netherlands can hardly imagine.

"I thought the GDR was fine until I was about twelve. When you're young, you don't know any better and you don't care. Now you know how the system worked, then you felt protected. safe and if I compare it to the reality of 2009, it was: now you have a credit crisis, people going hungry, problems in education, drugs among the youth. This is a different world, much more extreme. We had a very simple and straightforward upbringing - what you don't see doesn't exist. As you get older, your curiosity also grows. You want to go somewhere and you can't, because there is a wall. Only when I was about thirteen or fourteen, I became aware of the wall. And of the other sides of the regime, because the more curious you were, the more you got into trouble. Daily life in the Eastern Bloc was simply not meant for the curious. I started making music, primarily to impress the girls, but gradually I understood that it was also one of the few ways to push your boundaries a little. I always managed to stay within the lines, and then maintain a sense of freedom, no, individuality."

How were you able to push your boundaries within the GDR?

"By moving from the north of Germany to East Berlin. I did that purely because of the music. I wanted to start a band and that wasn't possible at home, simply because there weren't enough good musicians who wanted the same. It was quite difficult, because you were expected to have a full-time job and could only do something with music outside working hours. Or you had to study it, but that was of course not the kind of music I wanted to make. Slowly but surely I started to get some blemish on my political background and I decided that I no longer fit into society in Schwerin. Living with music, it had to be in Berlin. Better than at home, but it was not easy at all."

Why did you decide to escape the Eastern Bloc?

"Nothing musical, I accidentally got into a disturbance, a matter of wrong place, wrong time. I ended up in prison, where I was interrogated and investigated. After three days I was released again, completely beaten up. From that point, you will never be out of the picture of the authorities again. I had the feeling that I could no longer even breathe freely, that I was being watched everywhere. I had to leave, so I fled to the west. That was impossible in Berlin, The chances were better in the Czech Republic 1). The border was not so much open, but more flexible. Via some detours I ended up in West Berlin, where it was easier to start a band. After the fall of the wall, Rammstein was also founded there."

And when Berlin and the band were on the rise, you fled to New York?

"You can look at it that way. I have escaped twice in my life, once from east to west and once from Berlin to New York. The latter was quite spontaneous and non-musical, it was about my private life. That has since blossomed into full bloom, which I would never have achieved on that scale in Berlin. From Rammstein I have always been the one who takes the most risks. In 2000 I wanted my life - now I achieved everything i fought for previously - to give a new impuls. There had to be more than just making music and I am still discovering that in New York."

Moving to New York is an adventure even for someone from Boston or Philadelphia.

"Right! I learned a lot from it, of course not after making every rookie mistake. It is indeed a big challenge, but I am a survivor. I come from the Eastern Bloc, I know that life is hard and a lot of you can take. Moreover, I come from the north of the country, where people are on their feet. A rough man in a rough city, that fits. It's a kind of overarching life lesson. I understand New York now, I can use the city to my advantage. Thanks to Rammstein I have the financial security to do this, I am a privileged person. I have a studio at home, I can make music whenever I want. I can go back to Berlin if I need to, and even more important: leave Berlin again if necessary. It is important for me to be able to distance myself from Rammstein. It is such intense work, sometimes you have to be able to forget it. When I moved, I was so caught up in the band that I no longer dared to hand anything over, I could hardly handle it anymore. A world without Rammstein seemed unthinkable, but now I have a universe all my own. A godsend! That distance has been essential, especially for this record."

Was it a difficult recording process?

"That's the understatement of the century, haha! It took two years and if I didn't have New York, I would have gone completely crazy. The level of bullshit often reached such great heights... It was ridiculous. We already had huge arguments about the smallest things and non issues, let alone about the really important matters. Everything had to be decided per meeting, per conference. Sometimes I was completely overwhelmed. Thanks to New York, I gained some perspective on the whole thing. Once back In Berlin I had some positive energy again. If someone was really insisting on a certain point of view, I would say: do it, at least you'll stop talking about it. In this way, many compromises were made just to end the whining."

Let's start at the beginning: you released Rosenrot in 2005, which was not followed by a major tour.

"That record wasn't really planned. We had six completed songs left after Reise Reise, plus a handful of advanced ideas. Throwing it away would be a shame, so after careful consideration it was decided to sculpt a whole album out of it. And that was it. I was eager to start my own project, Emigrate, and the others needed a holiday. That's why we left the Rosenrot story at that and consciously opted for a time-out instead of a tour."

Rumors were buzzing then; if Rammstein didn't even tour anymore after an album, something had to be wrong.

"The thing was, we had never not toured before. In this case it was more important to save the band through that break. After fifteen years I have learned that it takes more effort to maintain the group than to to create a new piece of music. If you work too much, it will cost you at some point. In that respect, I don't envy those American bands that have to do three hundred shows a year. You just can't keep that up for years. They blow themselves up. We got the first warning during the Mutter tour; our keyboard player couldn't handle it anymore and left for a while. He was done with it. At first we didn't understand it, we just wanted to keep going and going. Until we took a closer look at what we were doing. There had to be a construction that would allow us to spare ourselves. If someone can't handle it anymore, you have to stop for a while. Otherwise, at some point you would have a three-man Rammstein. And that is no longer a band. "

After that break, one day you ended up in the same room again. What happened?

"That was after about two years. On the surface everything seemed pleasant, but everyone had other plans. I didn't want to go straight into the studio, but first go on tour to get the band on the same page as quickly as possible. Moreover, with Rosenrot and Emigrate [Emigrate's 2007 debut] I only saw studios and no audience. However, it was decided to make a record first. I still think that was a big mistake, but hey, it was an honest choice."

How did you get started musically?

"That was quite cool, the first two months. We rented a house in the north and rehearsed in a small room, the size of a broom cupboard. Schneider had a small electronic drum kit and we did not play with our large cabinets but on very small speakers. That is a completely different physical aspect of playing, it was much harder, faster and heavier than we were used to. A lot of ideas came out, which we all recorded and at that moment I still liked it. However, things went wrong when we were transferring those ideas, riffs, melodies and rhythms to the computer to go through it. I thought: keep playing guys, it's going well! But no, the democratic group process was started. And that's when the trouble really started. "

Can you give a concrete example of that misery?

"Some members behaved as if nothing was wrong. Problems were simply ignored, like we were in Pink Floyd. You know, making music in Rammstein has never been easy. As a band we have always been more concerned with discussing than making music In the past there was sometimes a fight, to the death - almost literally. Unpleasant, but the problem was solved. Now we are all a bit older and less aggressive. The devil now lies in the attitude and the words. Rammstein is a convergence of egos that can make things very painful and difficult for each other. We have become a bunch of old whiners, haha!"

Were there things you did agree on?

"That this was a nightmare! For me personally, I think for everyone."

It's a miracle there's a record at all?

"As far as I'm concerned, yes. At many times I thought we wouldn't make it. We were all on the verge of quitting at some point. Not everyone recognized it, but you could see it in the look in our eyes: this it was, done, over. Everything has an end, maybe this is our time. Only no one wanted to be the first. No one wanted to take the responsibility for disbanding Rammstein. Or worse: I was afraid that the band would continue if I quit. This record was made on that energy, call it stubborn, or fearful, or pigheaded."

How did that work practically?

"When the six of us could no longer be in one room, we split the group up to continue working in small groups. In shifts, so to speak. Just to find solutions to finish the record. A regular album is made constructively, grows from ideas and creativity. This was the other way around; everything that was on tape was a problem. And everything that was missing was also a problem. Normally you tick off a track and say: great, another song added. Now it was It was a burden lifted off you every time, and on to the next bottleneck. Man, we were often stuck! Completely. At the end of the ride I didn't care about the music anymore, I was purely determined to get that thing done and get rid of it.”

Um, you know you're here to promote the record?

"Certainly, haha! I'm currently letting a lot of people tell me how good it is. I don't really care for it at all at the moment. Per song, per break or sound, I only hear the endless discussions that were attached to it. I can't look at the songs objectively, but that can still change. If you like the record, I'm happy for you. But myself? I don't know."

In this light: is the title Liebe Ist Für Alle Da another wry example of Rammstein humor?

"Not necessarily. We look for the most extreme forms of love in the lyrics. There is a song called Frühling in Paris, and on the other hand you have the single Pussy. One is romantic, the other explicit, but it amounts to the same thing."

Are there any tour plans this time?

"We've made it a point for ourselves that everything we do has to be bigger, better and more extreme than what we've done. Rammstein is a huge machine and even we can't stop it. Sometimes you wish you were in a band like Pearl Jam , where everything revolves around the music and the feeling and the spontaneity. However: I play in Rammstein. The only way to keep going is to make everything grow bigger. Bigger, better, more extreme. Buckle up, everyone."

Is the atmosphere on tour better than in the studio?

"Yes, certainly. That's a good thing. In fact, now that this delivery is over, the mood in the group is fine, at times even great. We are rehearsing, things are going well, there are still a lot of discussion points, but we are a step further, there is progress. That feeling is good for every musician. Look, we don't hate each other, it's just almost impossible to work with each other. Every decision is a battle. And perhaps that is precisely what after all those years still makes us so strong. Apparently we float on pain and drama and frustration and unrest. If you look back at the past you see that many important musical achievements were built on those things, so maybe it just has to be that way."

Do you secretly still love each other?

"Very much even. And above all, very secretly..."

Rammstein live: December 6 Gelredome Arnhem, December 10 Sportpaleis Merksem Antwerp

1) In other interviews Richard mentions having fled via Hungary, this one he mentions Czechoslovakia

List of other Rammstein OOR interviews

#rammstein #rammstein OOR interviews #richard kruspe

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