#ALSO also sorry that this is the same snippet i posted a while ago i just think this scene means a lot to the both of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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#ALSO also sorry that this is the same snippet i posted a while ago i just think this scene means a lot to the both of them

bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck. “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life. “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate.

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked. “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at��whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face. “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said. “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one. “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.

“Hey, there the fuck you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself. His name was Eddie.

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour. There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face.

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. “I gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along.

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face.

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink. “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table.

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours. “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it.

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare.

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence.

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped. But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

------

taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

#Dirty Metal Summer #dirty dancing au #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things fic #Steve Harrington #robin buckley

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darqx · 5 months

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Some BP/HH/General asks

That mood when you want to share all the things but also want to keep it under wraps for the actual thing haha! Thanks very much anon!

As for your questions, I can't actually be specific cos there's no definitive number I have in mind for either. Basically there are a number of sectors (you can consider them their equivalent of countries - they have less than what we do though), and a number of species of demon of which I've designed about seven of. The ones I've shown before are these guys (and do you think I could find this pic again? No, I had to recreate it cos for the life of me I couldn't remember what ask I'd previously stuck it in lol):

One day when i have enough species and stuff out there I want to make a proper field guide \o/

Thank you very much for the interest! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ I would actually love to for BP, but before I jump the gun there I have to get the comic out first lol. That being said I have made mini-games before featuring the HH versions and some other characs alas they are all lost at the moment to the sands of Flash becoming obsolete 😩

Me and Gato do still collab sometimes (and send each other Xmas presents)! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

I have been working on one off and on for a while actually! Hopefully I'll have some pages to post next year or so*, I've been doing a bit of thumbnailing recently :D

*that is the plan but i also don't know where people find the time to do anything with a full time job lol.

Hullo! Glad you are enjoying the snippets of BP I've got here and there :D Here is an older ref on Izm back when i first got the idea (at that time i didn't really plan to do anything with it, it was just an AU. Now it's my main project haha. Anyway the ref is a little bit out of date in that regard.)

I used to have a "field guide" which was also made quite a while ago, unfortunately the death of Flash kinda killed it. Here's a screenshot of some relevant info from it though.

That's an interesting one as it's questionable how sentient souls are after removal 🤔 In my mind its only form is the smoke light, it can "see" to some degree and MIGHT be able to talk (but in a very no one can hear them sort of way, a la i have no mouth and i must scream. So i guess it can think "aloud"). The more time passes the less sentience it has.

It could try, though it wouldn't really get anywhere if it's in Rire's collection. He might just eat it lol.

.D: Good with kids, will be fine in all aspects.

Izm: The fun dad however needs a partner that knows what they're doing to ensure the child safety during shenanigans.

Marcus and Zeke: Also would be good parents though might be more helicopter out of protectiveness/worry when first starting out.

Ren: Geek parent very good for homework help. Some Asian parent tendencies eg "ah see, i told you not to do that right? Now you see what happened."

They are similar to our known society for this! So basically, there are some good families out there (eg Zeke - who is a demon - is from a pretty average loving family), and there are some bad families out there who only care about power or having an heir or whatever.

HH Rire is a human. I differentiate between him and Demon Rire because they are two different characters...even though they are also technically the same character lol. You can consider them as alternate universe iterations of a base "Rire" concept.

I actually half jested this in an old comic lol

I am sorry to inform you that a HH webcomic doesn't actually exist 😅 I did a lot of art, animations and one shots (such as the HHJ comics) with them, but nothing actually planned or serialised or anything. Whatever's currently on my DA or here is basically what exists.

Bringing this image back cos it's relevant lol.

You spelled it correct there though! XD

#answer dump #battle priest #hh au #sz #hedonehigh #long post

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wikiangela · 3 months

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tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns 💖

a bit of the natalia fic again bc it's almost done and should be posted sometime this weekend or next week - this one is gonna be just short and sweet, rn it's at 3.5k and not gonna get much longer haha

prev snippet

___

“I thought you had plans with Natalia tonight.” Eddie adds, closing the door behind them.

“Uh, yeah, plans changed.” Buck shrugs, then faces Eddie. “I need to talk to you.”

“So you said.” Eddie raises an eyebrow, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “What’s up?”

“This is-” Buck chuckles, then takes a deep breath. “This is gonna be so out of the blue, and I’m sorry, but I just realized this like not even half an hour ago- or, actually, Natalia, of all people, helped me realize this- we broke up, by the way, me and Natalia.” he adds, words just spilling out of him chaotically, while Eddie’s face is a mix of amusement and confusion, and then also concern.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Eddie starts, frown deepening.

“No, don’t be.” Buck waves him off with another chuckle. “She helped me see something I can’t believe I missed this whole time.”

“What’s that?” he asks, trying and failing to hide a fond smile, probably not wanting to appear too happy and insensitive to Buck’s breakup – he seems like does feel bad for Buck, but at the same time, that soft and loving look that’s there any time Buck just rambles on and on forces itself onto his face. Fuck, Eddie really does love him back, doesn’t he? How could Buck have been so blind?

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @honestlydarkprincess @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck

#wikiangela writes #tease tidbit tuesday #my wips #buddie wip #buddie fic #my writing #fic snippet #untitled natalia fic #fic: you can see it with the lights out (you are in love)#love when buck just rambles and eddie's like 😍😍😍#this fic is basically done tbh just needs a couple sentences to wrap it up and some editing #if i didn't work nights this week and wasn't so exhausted it would've been done already lol

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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WIBTA for telling a guilt-tripper to knock it off?

I'm part of a Discord server for authors, both aspiring and published. We chat about life, discuss story ideas, share snippets, look for beta readers, give each other feedback on our query packages—the usual. We're from all over the world, so sometimes time zones don't match up, and inevitably there are members who are more active and, thus, get a bit more attention

There's this one user—let's call them Kat—who used to be fairly active and had decent interaction from other users. Around December, Kat shared a bit of their writing to a critique swap—basically a Google Drive where we could look over each other's stuff and provide feedback. They uploaded a bit late due to their schedule (GMT) and didn't get as much critique as they'd hoped, which made them a bit disheartened and they commented as much in the server. I can't blame them, since feeling ignored sucks, but I feel like complaining about it in the general channel (we have a dedicated vent channel) was a bit gauche.

Regardless, Kat continued to be active, albeit posting less frequently. Notably, most of their posting seems to be either responding to group prompts or talking about their own writing. Rarely do they respond to someone else's comments—or, hell, even replies to their own! I've seen people inquire more about stuff they've brought up, and then they just never respond. People do interact with them; they just don't interact back.

About a month ago, they messaged the server talking about recovering from illness and coming up with a story idea, asking for people to look over their first few pages. Two people responded with sympathy and interest; as far as I'm aware, Kat never got back to those people. Usually in interactions like this, someone asks for feedback, another person replies to tell them they're interested, the OP asks to DM, and the conversation goes there; Kat straight up left them hanging. After that, they only sent a few messages—a couple of replies to group prompts (those rarely have interaction from other users, though I've made an effort to react or reply to interesting responses, and I've seen a few others do the same), and another passive-aggressive comment about being ignored.

Tonight, Kat sent a message to the chat in the general channel (again, not #vent) that started with, "Whatever I've done or not done that's made me a social pariah in this group to people I thought were friends who now ignore my questions or posts, at least have a modicum of compassion and heart this message..." They then continued, talking about losing someone close to them. I do sincerely feel for them, but I can't bring myself to interact with that message in any way. Not even the heart they want. Worse, I'm entertaining the notion of telling them that while I am genuinely sorry for their loss, guilt-tripping people isn't an effective way to garner compression.

Why I WBTA: Literally they're grieving, that's such a shitty thing to do right now. Besides, they are right in that people haven't interacted with them as much ever since they asked for feedback on their work that one time. I doubt this will help anyone, let alone them.

Why I might be a JAH (I know for a fact there's no world where I'm NTA): Responses have dipped because they aren't posting as much, and moreover, since they rarely respond to people at all, it's likely that we've all learned that it's not worth it interacting with them. Besides, if I ignore them, they'll just keep guilt-tripping even more, which also isn't helpful to anyone. And again—we have a vent channel. Why they came into the place where we chitchat about our weekend plans vexes me somewhat.

I dunno. It's a very damned if I do, damned if I don't situation. WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lossie92 · 16 days

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A snippet from the beginning of chapter 6 of Cynosure. Please let me know what you think of it - I'm really curious!

Also sorry that it took a bit longer to post, but my brain is fried with a fever and I forgot I asked if ppl wanted to read this 😶

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a/b/o au, mentions of past abuse

Madara groaned, his eyes closed, before banging the back of his head against the wall behind him.

The meeting with the elders had ended a while ago and, considering the outcome, he knew he should be celebrating. However, he was too out of sorts to feel happy about this sound, if unexpected, victory.

Despite trying to push it away, the heartbreaking image Tobirama had made as he curled into himself amongst the blankets and pillows in blinding fear of being struck wouldn’t leave him alone.

There had been many moments in Madara's life when he had felt helpless and at a loss for what to do, and this was definitely one of them. Even though it very likely wouldn't have gone over well, at the time all he had wanted to do was to pull Tobirama close and promise him that whoever had hurt him in the past would never be able to do so again. Not if Madara had any say in that whatsoever.

An empty promise.

A stupid one too, since they barely knew each other and Madara really had no claim to make promises of this nature.

But he didn't fucking care.

Tobirama was… he was…

He sighed.

Tobirama was smart. He could be surprisingly witty. He was endearingly sweet, but he argued with the same precision he wielded a sword when he was passionate about something, and this in no way diminished his charm. He was a mystery too, one Madara was curious about and wanted to unravel.

And he was beautiful.

Undeniably, achingly beautiful.

Of course beauty was a shallow thing to focus on and it didn’t matter all that much too in the grand scheme of things. Sure, being with someone beautiful was nice and it would be a lie if Madara said looks never played any part in his attraction to another person – they did – but they were hardly the be all, end all. Still, despite all that, Madara couldn't deny that for the last few days he had looked forward to waking up and that he had been spending entirely too much time each morning just looking at Tobirama as he slept.

Every day he was greeted by the same sight: the omega's adorably disgruntled face, his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched up as he slept and dreamt of who knew what. With all that lovely white hair framing his face, curls sticking out at odd angles no matter how much effort Madara had put into taming them the night before, he seemed to belong nowhere else but in Madara's den. With him, always.

Madara couldn't help but be embarrassed about all of it. His thoughts, his feelings, and especially his actions. By now he had spent what felt like hours far running his fingers through Tobirama’s hair and tracing the lines of his face, marvelling at how a man with such lovely, soft features could strike fear and resentment in the hearts of so many people.

He knew that he felt wasn't love yet. And it wouldn't be love for a while. Yet there was no denying it either that falling in love with Tobirama would probably be as easy as breathing.

#mdtb #madatobi #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #madara #tobirama #cynosure verse #a/b/o au #lossie writes #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto founders

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groenendaelfic · 5 months

Note

Hi, I just wanted to make sure if you're okay? You used to post fics so regularly and now you're so quiet. I hope you're doing fine and are just busy with real life stuff?!

Hi, and thank you for checking in as well as your kind words. Same to the two lovely anons who sent me love. Thank you.

A very Happy Lucia to you and everyone who celebrates, or who could do with a bit more light in their life. (physical or metaphorical)

I'm sorry for being so quiet recently. I assure you I'll be back and that all my wips and outlines will be finished. (yes even Ghost!Erik, although I'm not making any promises as to when)

I'm as enthusiastic about YR and Wilmon as I was a year ago and I doubt that's going to change anytime soon. It's just that the holiday season has hit me harder than I hoped it would, and so my writing time has been mostly taken up by blankly staring at the screen and then being surprised when the alarm goes off an hour or two later.

It's the first time in eight years that I'm celebrating without my soulmate, and missing them and our two angels is especially hard right now.

I have a very active support network though and I know things will get better. Right now I'm just ... super lonely while at the same time being surrounded by too many people who mean a bit too well.

On a happier note I'm over 15k into the final chapter of Faroe Gone and still in Tórshavn, with only about 1k being stuff from the outline, so it's going to be a very, very long final chapter.

Also the next chapter of ALaWHEO has theoretically reached posting length about a month ago, but I really want them to actually get inside the palace and not just have a 4k car ride where nothing happens. So uh ... yeah.

Also, also I've been valiantly resisting the urge to write Kings Wilmon's first state visit to movie-rwrb's London snippets. It would be a good distraction, but also I'm not sure it would be any other levels of good. I haven't even finished reading the book.

Also, also, also my muse insists it'd have to be Phillip and James III's pov, and I suspect that'd top even The Getaway's level of self-indulgence, if that's even possible.

Anyway. Happy Lucia. I promise I'll be back, although no promise as to when. All the best! 💜🧡

#my mom thinks it's time I sign up to a dating app #my nonagenarian grandma keeps asking why I'm not wearing black for a year #the casseroles have started up again #meanwhile all I want is to up and leave and start anew elsewhere once I have the funds and am mentally ready #life update #progress update #random ramblings #ask me anything #not young royals

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lvndrlondonfog · 2 months

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ok so basically I saw your post asking for prompts and I have been thinking for days about cat good omens . again. let me explain

so a while back I wrote a super fucking long cat omens fic (long for me at least) where they’re stray cats, it’s called strays on the street, almost 60k words. BUT in my head is ANOTHER CAT AU where they are warrior cats ok idk if you’ve ever read those books but there’s hundreds of them and they’re about clans of cats who fight and hunt and fuck and it’s crazy and not child appropriate. I was reading cats get mauled and give birth graphically in 2nd grade but anyway I WANNA READ THEM AS WARIROR CATS OR WRITE IT MAYBE?? Cuz all I’ve written is this snippet from my notes app from weeks ago

/ “I’m sorry,” Serpentfang gurgled, his eyes rolling back in his head, his paws convulsing as he tried to reach for Angelwing. But the white tom stepped back. /

NO CONTETX NOTHING IDK WHAT

but anyway i also need more fanart and fic of crowley with greying hair. same with azi tbh but especially Crowley i want them growing old together in the sense that they don’t have to grow old but they choose to :) ))) also i want an au where crowley becomes Duke of hell post s2 just to send petty notes through heavens administration

SORRY MY ADHD DOES NOT LET ME HAVE A STRAIFHT LINE OF THOUGHT AJSSJDK anyway i am all for new tumblerers and if you have an ao3 or something id love to follow it incase you do write or post anything! <3 random ideas to shoot at ya: sailor aziraphale x siren Crowley, crowley pretending to date furfur post s2 to get supreme archangel aziraphale’s attention, muriel trying to get Crowley and aziraphale back together PARENT TRAP STYLE, orrrr yknow what sweet and fluffy aziraphale reading and drinking tea in south downs cottage while snake Crowley listens to him read aloud and sips from his cup with his silly forked tongue

GO CRAZY (and also be my mutual? 💍)

OH ABSOLUTELY. Warriors cats was my SHIT growing up, and sosososos many ideas I cannot thank you enough: I’ll link one of my fics below and I just started writing so they aren’t AMAZING but decent I think still!!! Ones about Angel Crowley finding inspiration for the entire universe after one (1) passing glance at a specific Angel and the other about Crowley struggling a bit after the fall, past angst but wings and fluff!!!

THOUGH I ABSOLUTELY GET ZERO STRAIGHT LINES OF THOUGH FELLOW ADHDER SO LEMME SEE IF I CAN RESPOND TO ALL OF THESE AKFKRLS

So basically I have also thought about warrior cats au before and BASICALLY

Crowley is a dark forest cat (kicked out like Ashfur) and Aziraphale is a Starclan cat!!!! Remember in the first books when they have to move from the original forest bc it was getting chopped down? Instead of moving, Starclan saw no way out of that and was like “what if they all just die instead than problem solved and we never have to worry about issues ever again?”

Crowley and Aziraphale are obviously like NO THATS A BAD IDEA and after an accidental meeting at the foggy border between Starclan and the dark forest, they are both elected by their respective forces to take over two clan’s medicine cat’s bodies and make sure that the 9 layers of Armageddon that Starclan is sending to wipe out the clans will go through. Instead, they try to thwart things while each dealing with clan life once again, and of course, shenanigans ensue!

Okay growing older I literally love the idea of as they drift further from their respective sides, they lose more and more of their ethereal powers, but it means they can be together and be left alone. While it’s a sacrifice that they’re both willing to make, it does come with some unintended side effects (mostly for Crowley; human bodies don’t tend to handle a million year free-style dives into pits of boiling sulphur too well) but they again find ways. Essentially a lot of fluff post-Armageddon’t and s2 in the South Downs Cottage????

And thirdly what if post S2, Crowley doesn’t really know what to do with himself but he’s PISSED. And there is no more “their” side, only Crowley’s side and he’s not exactly thrilled to be back alone. He has nothing else to do and he wants petty revenge, so he matched Aziraphale’s position as Supreme Archangel as a Duke Of Hell, mainly as an excuse to fuck with Aziraphale and make sure that Aziraphale won’t be able to forget about him any time soon, because Crowley certainly hasn’t thought about him.

AND TWO SPLIT ROUTES ONE ANGST ONE CRACK

1) With nobody left on Earth, Crowley and Aziraphale are out of the loop and before they realize it, the second coming had happened. Earth is dead, and Heaven and Hell are preparing for war once again. Meeting on the battlefields, each full of anger and with nothing left to go back to, what will happen? Either they fight and one accidentally wounds the other before they’re both like OH SHIT WAIT WAIT WAIT THIS IS STUPID MISTAKES HAVE BEEN MADE or one is hurt by the enemy side and found by the other; how do they stick together when no place is safe anymore?

OR NOT HORREDNOUS ANGST

2) Crowley finds out about the second coming, which he doesn’t think Aziraphale knows about, and vice Versa. Cue notes with ridiculous clues and stupid Spelling Things Out with random capitals to send a message, and completely obliviousness on both sides because they’re too desperate to get their own sides across that they don’t even stop to consider that the other may Also be trying to send a message. Cue increasingly grand gestures from both sides before Aziraphale shows up at Crowley’s office holding the Son of God, and they have to figure out how to stop the second coming while finding out ways to acknowledge the emotional damage they both still carry from their last meeting in the bookshop

Sailor x Siren writes itself: maybe shipwrecked Aziraphale finds Very Almost Miraculously Convenient things on this abandonded island that he’s trying to survive on, before one night he finds a certain someone repairing the broken boat little by little. They get scared off before they can talk but Azi leaves an offering back, and cue not-meeting-but-absolutely-communicating until actual meeting than bam! Eventually they both realize that there’s nobody getting him off this island and the ultimate choice for Aziraphale to drown and become a siren too, he takes the offer and is literally just held by siren!Crowley as he takes his last breath and a bit of suspense before BOOM REBORN HAPPY ENDING YIPEE!!

Than dating Furfur to cause jealousy, specifically knowing how similar the two can look, Crowley makes it VERY obvious that he’s complimenting and highlighting all the similar traits of Aziraphale but TO SOMEONE ELSE. Aziraphale refuses to directly confront but cue more and more aggressive signs from the heavens that try to break them apart that Crowley keeps spinning into good things. Aziraphale convinces Muriel child-of-divorce style to miraculously decorate the bookshop that Crowley had been living in to an EXTREME for Valentine’s Day, and Crowley spins it into ‘I did this myself’ for FurFur. Eventually, Aziraphale gets so spun up that he can no longer focus on the planning (or thwarting) of the second coming and gets so pissed with Crowley little shithead antics that he leaves the rambunctious 10 yo son of Christ at the door, with a small note reading something along the lines of ‘Fine, deal with this yourself than; PS this is Jesus!’ And the exact opposite silence, Crowley flailing to win Aziraphale’s good graces and communicate with him, handling Jesus, and dealing with some growing guilt after Furfur genuinely seemed to become attached. Not sure how this would end, but probably Crowley working through everything on his own, separate sides angst, alternating POV chapters, and they ultimately team up again to solve all the issues

Also for Parent trap Au: Muriel and the Bentley power-duo: Crowley’s depressed so Muriel can use the Bentley, and it drives Muriel places and hints at what to do next ect ect while Muriel figures out human stuff, romance, heaven, and after numerous failed attempts- a happy ending for the wonderous Mr.Fell and Mr.Crowley who had taken her in before!

Also Absolutely Dyslexic Crowley having pretended to just really hate books for the longest time, but Aziraphale eventually noticed that Crowley struggles to read menus and other stuff too- just poor eyesight and with knowledge being the root of the original sin, heaven found it quite ironic to block that in more than a few ways for the very demons who perpetuate sin! Confrontation, and eventually Crowley gives in and cue absolute fluff; Aziraphale reads and finds a new side of Crowley, who despite what he had spent many years convincing himself, actually ends up enjoying various things and even asking further questions and speculating and thinking about things (which Aziraphale is more than thrilled about to finally have someone to discuss with!)

Also I am currently on SOS Internet on the drive home, so I can’t risk opening a new webpage lest everything is risked but my Ao3 is LvndrLemonade! Top two fics are what I was talking about earlier and I will absolutely keep you updated on these ideas!!!!!!!!! Thank you for allowing me to yell I love all of tjeese sosososso much oh my god

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable #ineffable idiots #au #good omens au #fanfic #good omens fanfic #ideas #prompts #oh my god I’m so sorry this is so long #though not really sorry #GIVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK ARE THESE DECENT IDEAS PLEASE

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hdtv34 · 19 days

Text

So, a while ago in the middle of the night, I wrote the beginning of a shitty Hannibal fic. I decided to post the parts I have rn on here to see if it’s good enough to continue!

Carnival of Venice AU inspired by the Cask of Amontillado

- Blood, hannigram, main character death, m/m, murder, stabbing, drinking, masks, etc. I don't know how to do this. Alt universe, Will Graham POV, 1st Person POV, grammar mistakes, unfinished, the beginning of the story and then a small snippet of the end at the bottom of the post, and probably some mistakes in characterization. I mean I was half asleep when I wrote this. I would love ideas for costume ideas for characters if anyone has any!

Quick summary of the basic idea if you don't want to read it all:

Will goes to the festival with his friends for the first time, borrowing one of their old masks. There he met this man with a gorgeous mask; one as extravagant as an elk. He wouldn't normally be able to go up to the man with the intentions that he has due to society’s expectations to love a woman, but there he has freedom. They talk for a while and eventually, the man invites him to dinner. He told him to wear a mask with no bottom half but still hide your identity so that he’d be able to eat without taking it off. They meet again the next night and they have dinner. It all seemed pleasant and peaceful at first with the meal being like that of which Will had never seen much less tasted. It was all wonderful. Eventually, he realizes that the man nor the meat was as they seemed. The man was a serial killer and a cannibal. He had done the same thing with Will with that of many others. Yet in the end ‘I truly am sorry, William. You’ve been like no other…. For you, I think that I'll eat your heart first.’

Actual fic:

I was invited to a carnival in Venice by a friend of mine, Dr. Alana Bloom. Alana typically moves between Venice and Florence, so I wasn’t initially startled by her offer. However, I was very tentative. But, in the end, guilt weighed me towards the idea. I must admit, I’m not used to events such as this. The activity was… suffocating. She gave me a spare mask, a simple one that hides the entirety of my face. It was a golden knight.

As I found myself surrounded by a crowd of sharks, I heard the laughter of her voice grow further and further. At least she finds happiness. Eventually, I find refuge from the inane and mad near a few barrels of rum, wine, beer, juice, etc. Their unmarked property assures that it is not of a soul’s awareness, which barrel contains what. It was a gamble, but wasn’t also being at this carnival? A place to be whomever and act however without discomfort or fear.

I pour myself a handle of the second barrel’s contents. With a sip, I’m pleased to find myself consuming wine. As I stand near the stand, a stag walks over to me. His mask was black with golden accents and showed the lower half of his face. The beauty and detail left me in awe. I’ve never seen someone with such a mask. I nodded softly, readjusting my hood and mask as I stopped drinking.

“Tell me, what are you drinking,” the stag asked with an accent that left me feeling confused as I attempted to pinpoint its origin.

“Red wine.”

“I see. Which barrel? They never mark these barrels for some idiotic reason.” A scowl formed on the man’s face as he looked at the barrels with distaste.

I smiled under my mask, appreciating the stag’s scowl. “The second.”

“Ah, thank you. I appreciate your help.” He pours himself a wine glass of the drink before moving to stand next to me. “Have you come to the festival before? You seem… out of place.”

“No. This is my first time. I was invited by Dr. Bl—… the um… the woman in the bluejay mask.” I shifted uncomfortably, tilting my head towards her direction.

“Dr. Alana Bloom?”

My head perks up at the mention of her name, tilting lightly.

“She’s a friend of mine,” he explains instantly, “I would rather not provide any other details as they would hint at my identity, but please be reassured that I do know Dr. Bloom quite well. Do not hesitate to converse about her with me.”

I nod, although the fact doesn’t console me fully. I continued, “She asked me to come here. Provided my mask and everything.”

“Do you enjoy it here?”

“As you mentioned, this is not my scene.”

“Then pray tell, what is your scene, my dear?”

I hesitate for a moment looking in the stag’s mask. It was as black and dark as a nightmare’s soul or as a raven’s death. “What’s yours?”

He stays quiet, turning back to the crowd in front of them.

It stays like that for a while. The two of them together watching the others dance and drink. For a moment I see a moth attempt to court a red dragon before the dragon declines and turns away.

“Ballrooms.”I snap my head back to the stag upon hearing his newly sincere voice harboring a new emotion or maybe lack of one. “Or my kitchen,” he continues.

“Your kitchen? Do you cook? A stag like you, I would’ve assumed you to afford many maids and cooks,” I say, looking into the mask. I’m sure that the fortune it must’ve cost to make would’ve sent me to the slums.

“I can, but I prefer to make my own food. No one else would make it the way I prefer.”

I hum in understanding. “I see. I’m sure you are a wonderful cook.” He hums and nods his head.

“Would you like to find out, my knight?” My head whips around towards him, his words taking me by surprise.

“That’s impossible, stag. The masks.”

“We can eat with masks. Ask Alana for one which leaves the bottom half of your face open. We can meet again here, at the same time, tomorrow night. I will be wearing the same mask. If you do not wish to, then do not show up.” The stag looks within the crowd spotting a jester walking further into it, pushing a woman butterfly along as he laughs at her. “I’m afraid I must part. My hunger is only growing, and I must prepare dinner. I yearn to meet again, my knight.” The stag bows before making his exit, walking towards where the jester was previously, going after him. They must know each other, I conclude, watching as he leaves.

The festival was nearly closed, and the crowds had almost completely dissipated. Nearby, a bluejay waves goodbye to a woman in a pig mask. She began to trot over upon realizing my location. “Will, I’ve been looking for you. Where did you go?”

“Alana, I just went to get a drink. Who was that?” I walked over to meet her halfway.

“I don’t know, but she was nice. I wish I managed to get her name. Shall we be off?”

I nodded as she led me back to her abode. The building was in one of the many lantern-lit alleys. The walls only further reminded me of my home in Florence, causing an itch to form where the heart beats and the bones grow.

As we arrived inside, we stripped off our concealing attire. I laid my mask on the table and hung my coat on the coat rack. I studied her as she took off her costume. “Alana,” I hesitantly began, “could I attend alongside you again tomorrow night? Maybe in a mask that allows me better access to my mouth?”

Alana gave me a suspicious glance. “Oh? And what would you need it for? Don’t tell me you plan a night of pleasure for yourself tomorrow with some handsome lady?”

I felt my face tense as I turned towards the fireplace. I managed a quick shake of my head as I spoke, “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I just got hungry. It was difficult to get nourishment and quench my thirst with this mask; although, I do marvel at its beauty. It was just a little-“ I paused, trying to find the word, “suffocating.” would greatly appreciate a more appropriate mask.”

Alana nodded and went to her bedroom before coming out with a gorgeous mask in hand. It was detailed with a bone-white coloring and two things that looked like ears on the side of it. She handed it to me carefully. “I went to it as a lamb a few years back. It was…enjoyable. I hope you find the same outcome.”

I attempt to hand it back to her after feeling the hills of the lines and the cannons. “Surely you can hold onto it for me until morning.”Yet, she hands it right back.

“Keep it. You never know when you might need it.” She smirks and takes her stuff as she heads back into her bedroom. “You best be leaving for your inn. I hear that it will rain before morning.”

As I lay in my bed for the night, my mind kept trembling with restless moths of thoughts, crowding the lightbulb of my sanity. In the pitch of my room, my eyes kept trying to identify the white lamb mask on my dresser, but they were left to only imagine its curves and indents.

Eventually, I shut my eyes. My mind drifts off to the darker place it usually finds residence. The woods crackle and live soundly around me as I look past black, stretching trees. In it, I see a familiar suited man with a familiar black mask. He huffs as red coats his figure. A sickening cut is heard causing me to stumble on a branch, breaking it. He spins around to face me. The mask…isn’t a mask at all. It connects to its person, merging into an overwhelming beast. A black, tall, lanky stag-man stands before me covered in blood. He was something out of children’s horrific nightmares and warnings. It creeps towards me before offering a long, lanky hand. Its fingers were twisted like tree branches and as sickening as bloody organs.

“Would you care for a dance, my lamb in knight’s clothing?”

The next night I hesitated at the entrance. The sounds of laughter and enthusiasm were overwhelming to hear as he studied the grounds.

“Will? What’s wrong? You look nervous. You weren’t nervous last night.” Alana looks at me with a furrowed brow, rubbing her soft palms over my coat. I remember a time when I used to fawn over her touch, and frequently find my gaze drifting back to her, now I just enjoy the company.

“I didn’t- I didn’t have plans tonight. I may leave tonight without you.”

“You will?”

“I might,” I correct immediately. She raises a brow. “I’m ok.”

“You were just hyperventilating.”

“I’m- I will be ok.”

“Will, tell me what’s going on.”

I hesitate, glancing into the crowd, and catching sight of the barrels. They appear alone. A frown crosses my face without apparent reason.

“Will? Are you ok?” She takes ahold of my shoulder, trying to ground me.

“Yeah, yeah. I just-…I’ll be ok. I’ve got this. I’ll be seeing you.” I leave her standing aimless and confused as I make my way through the crowd towards the barrels.

Once I arrive, the place is lonely. Not a mask in sight, much to my dismay. I pour myself a glass of the liquid in the second barrel. My face scrunches in disgust at the taste of beer after assuming wine.

A hollow laugh erupts beside me, making me whip my head towards them. “I suppose the second barrel isn’t red wine tonight, is it?”

It was the stag. His appearance brings a smile to my face. “Stag.”

“My knight, I love tonight’s mask. A lamb, yes?” I nod. “It looks beautiful on you.”

I turn back to my drink, wishing the mask covered more of my lower face. “I believe you promised me dinner, Stag.”

“I did. How could I forget?” He offers me his arm. “Shall we be off? My home isn’t far from here.”

Hesitantly I link my arm around his, letting him lead me to his abode.

—

Test for ending:

Pain seared and burned like molten lava as the blade began to carve a slit into the folds of my skin, tainting them scarlet. The blade lifted for a moment before moving to the next area for an incision. My hands wrapped the wrist, stilling the knife as it pressed softly against my skin, eliciting a small bead of blood.

My eyes blur as I look past him… at him… the pitch, lanky figure carving me like dinner. “I see you,” I rasp, softly. My voice barely evolved to a whisper. The wind brushing branches against the panels of glass windows almost hid my speech.

My hand fell slowly as I watched the eyes above me. Crimson eyes studied mine as we held each other’s gaze. “I let you see me,” he corrected quietly. His voice hid an emotion buried deep like a skeleton in a ditch. If I believed that he cared about me any more than a random stranger picked as a victim, then I would've mistaken it for remorse or regret.

I felt as he fixed his grip on the blade, pressing it in again slightly. I didn't realize that it had faltered, previously. “I truly am sorry, William. You’ve been like no other…” He pauses for a moment, studying my eyes again, a new hunger filling them. “For you, I think that I'll eat your heart first.”

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thekidsare-not-alright · 10 months

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Sorry to bother you with this question but I don't really know anyone in FOB fandom. I'm not new here, but I do work an extremely busy job (I'm an ER nurse) so I am admittedly a bit lost on some things about this current tour. Like what is the 8 ball stuff, and do you happen to know any general set list for the shows? If you don't feel like answering, that's totally cool too. I see a lot of your posts in the FOB tag so I thought I'd ask. :) Thank you in advance! xx

First, thank you for your all that you do in healthcare! Absolutely no apologies, I'm happy to help :)

Major tourdust spoilers ahead! (of course)

I'm going to take this ask as a chance to explain all the setlist fun stuff in one spot, so here we go! The setlist has been consistent except for four main points, which I'll explain below. For ease, I'm going to be referring to Bonner Springs' setlist (6/24/23), so when I use numbers to refer to song placement, those are the ones I mean.

If you wanna skip ahead anon, magic 8 ball is explained in letter D :]

A. The first change in the setlist has only happened once and takes place 6th in the setlist, following 16 candles and preceding Grand Theft Autumn. It's usually Chicago Is So Two Years Ago, but has also been Homesick at Space Camp and Dead On Arrival (after their respective tour debuts as magic 8 ball songs). Songs 6-8 are played in a TTTYG themed section of the set every night.

B. The second change is slightly more regular and takes place 12th in the setlist. This song is often "The Take Over, The Breaks Over," but every now and then it gets swapped out for Hum Hallelujah, as well as Bang the Doldrums (after its live debut as a magic 8 ball song in LA). It was once swapped out with 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen).

C. The third change is different almost every night, with only a couple repeats here and there. This is Patrick's section of the setlist, at track 15 after Fake Out, where he just plays one or two snippets of songs on piano (or sometimes acoustic guitar) before a shortened cover of Journey's Don't Stop Believin'. Oftentimes, if he plays two songs, one of them is from Fall Out Boy and the other is a cover of whatever he feels like. Often referred to as "piano medley" or just "medley." (Golden, What A Catch, Donnie, and What a Time to be Alive have been very popular relatively for this part of the setlist, sksk patrick)

D. The fourth and final change on the setlist is known as the "Magic 8 Ball" song and takes place after Hold Me Like a Grudge at track 23. This song is where Pete asks a "giant magic 8 ball" (a screen above the stage) what song they should play anywhere from their entire discography. Here's a video of him asking (the spiel is about the same every night). Each magic 8 ball song has been different for each show, with exceptions described in letter H. Some of these songs have never been played live before, some haven't been played in over a decade, some just haven't been played in a while or as often but they are a complete secret/surprise every night! Additionally, Pete has said that once a song has been played for the magic 8 ball section, it can appear elsewhere in the setlist at future shows. So, really, anything can happen.

Fall Out Boy has gotten even more unhinged lately, so here are a few more setlist changes.

E. As mentioned above, the piano medley usually ends with a cover of Journey's Don't Stop Believin'. Twice now, however, this song has been sacrificed for other songs: August 1st for Gym Class Heroes' Travie Mccoy being brought on stage (Patrick played part of Stereo Hearts on piano, then they all played Cupid's Chokehold) and again on August 2nd for Sweet Caroline (a Boston Red Sox/Fenway Park tradition). The Journey cover has been played every show since.

F. Up until recently, a cover of Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train has been played after Baby Annihilation and before Dance, Dance. Enter Sandman by Metallica seems to have replaced Crazy Train in the setlist as of August 5th. Sometimes referred to (by me) as the "metal cover."

G. The only song from MANIA to make it on the tour's setlist, The Last of the Real Ones, has been cut from the setlist for a second Magic 8 Ball song (occurring right after the first Magic 8 Ball song). At first, it seemed like it was cut only for the duration of Patrick's sickness or for noise curfew, but it has not yet returned as of August 5th. It was a part of the "permanent" setlist up until July 29th, when it was last played.

H. As mentioned in letter G, a second Magic 8 Ball song has been added to the setlist every night since July 30th (Toronto, ON). The following cities have gotten two Magic 8 Ball songs:

LA, CA (July 2nd and 3rd) - first sold out show of the tour, Pete's home

Toronto, ON (July 30th) - only date in Canada

Forest Hills, NY (Aug 1st) - possible nod to the Hella Mega Tour dates that the band were unable to play due to a COVID-19 exposure

Boston, MA (Aug 2nd) - possible nod to the Hella Mega Tour dates that the band were unable to play due to a COVID-19 exposure

Darien Center, NY (Aug 4th) - possible nod to the Hella Mega Tour dates that the band were unable to play due to a COVID-19 exposure

Camden, NJ (Aug 5th) - they're probably just having a lot of fun doing spontaneous songs at the end of this leg! <3

For each double magic 8 ball night, the first one is a new song (one not yet played on Tourdust before, regular magic 8 ball rules apply) and the second is a repeat magic 8 ball song (any of the previous ones).

I. Spontaneous covers such as Shipping up to Boston and Coffee Mug have also appeared once each without cutting other songs in their place. The former was a nod to Boston and the latter a tribute. Really, just be prepared for anything at all times.

Extra fun note: The official setlists have the mystery song written in code, mostly using the NATO phonetic alphabet by abbreviating either the song's title or a key set of lyrics (GINASFS was written as "Golf" on the first setlist, Of All The Gin Joints in All The World, commonly referred to as Gin Joints, had the code name "Gamma Juliet," while Fame < Infamy's code name was "Bravo Whiskey Papa," referring to the lyrics "better with (a) pen" in the song)

Basically, they've been talking about having some of that old pre-fame ~scene rock show~ vibe where everything was spontaneous and they played til the cops showed up. It's a taste of going back to their roots and giving the fans what they want (and having a ton of fun while doing it!)

[I used this spreadsheet as a reference, made by this person on twitter]

So sorry anon for the novella here, I'm sure you wanted something quick but I couldn't help myself oops heh

#fall out boy #fob #pete wentz #patrick stump #joe trohman #andy hurley #tourdust spoilers #smfs #magic 8 ball

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f0xgl0v3 · 3 months

Text

The Octavian and Michael Quest; Story Snippet

Hahaha I’ve done it. I’m finally going mad, anyways after staring longingly at the Converse wedge high tops vowing to one day add them to my collection (and for some reason way more publicity on the post) I’ve decided that I’m making a like teaser for the Octavian-Michael fanfic I talked about all those weeks ago. Also I’m really bored this mid-winter break and I’m a mediocre narrative writer soo uh

Also if my google docs yell at me one more time because apparently the way I spell something is the British English way I’m going to scream. I’m sorry but it’s travelled. Anyways, I’d like to say again in no way am I an author nor do I think I write stories particularly well. There’s probably a reason why most of my big posts are formatted the way they are,

Also sorry no Michael in the sneak peak/ first bit I wrote, this is just the like. Set up? It’s mean to be short and sweet, enjoy! (also this isn’t proofread I’m so sorry),

I should’ve just chosen to use dice or birds primarily, Octavian thought as he pulled his dagger through another stuffed animal. It stung a bit, partially from the repeated weight of taking the golden blade through fabrics and partially because he had to. The dove between his hands looked pleading with its plastic eyes, the same sound of threads ripping apart while stuffing piled out. It caught in his ears again, the ringing that came before the voices. The same feeling of hair standing on end that Jason described when lightning was about to strike, and that’s when it began,

“Great strife shall befall the legion,” He had heard this voice before, the mixed harmony of several Gods murmuring before one truly broke through. It took awhile to get used to, his ears still rang after most of the Auguries, and Octavian could barely hear his own voice murmur in reply,

“What’s going on?” it felt odd to ask, Octavian’s own voice sounding desperate and panicked, though usually his tone reflected those of the Gods. The world around grew blurry while the harmony thinned out to one single melodious voice, humming in his ears, Venus, something in his mind decided,

“[the super duper cool prophecy that will be there at some point I pinky Promise]”

The world spun some more, and once Octavian’s vision settled the stuffed dove and his dagger had been dropped to the altar, his brows furrowed and breath a bit frantic while he tried to make some sense of what was just delivered to him. A prophecy. An actual prophecy. Octavian tenderly picked up the stuffed dove and dagger again, first giving the poor thing an apology and sewing it back up, gently holding it while he exited the Augurculanum. The blinding rays of the sun beat down on his eyes while Octavian made the run to the Principa from ground zero. His hand tightened around the dove, which was decidedly now named Beatrice. His boots crunched against the gravel roads that wound between most of the buildings. He opted not to walk on the main Via Principa; there would;ve been too many legionnaires walking back from the fields of Mars anyway.

Finally reaching the Principa was always a relief. It was great having most of the buildings Octavian had to go to in the Porta Praetoria; It meant everything was in arms reach. But also subsequently meant that heading to the Principa took longer and always felt more daunting (not to mention the Principa itself always felt impossibly big). Octavian rushed up the few steps and into the door, walking through the big halls and passing several doors and legionnaires before finally slipping into the main office. His eyes travelled to the Praetors; who snapped up once they realized he was there. Marcus spoke up first, already concerned,

“What happend?”

——————————————————————————

That’s it! Uh, I didn’t want to type up a giant thing so there’s the short and sweet version. It’s also a draft partially? It’s my first time writing this little section. I also tried to keep it from being like.. super ahdiajfbsj like how I usually write things. Also the actual one will probably be first person because that means I can do my super fun parenthesis bits in character and that makes me happy.

Anyway goodnight internet.

#hehe :3 #idk how to tag this #pjo hoo toa #camp jupiter #hoo #hoo octavian #pjo octavian #octavian hoo #octavian pjo #hoo fanfic #a short story snippet!#a teaser if you will #honestly I didn’t proofread either so uhh #okay bye

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mintiicinnamonii · 3 months

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ALRIGHT LMK BITCHES THIS IS WHO YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR

(FYI: as of posting this, I’ve only finished season 1 and 2. Might be edited as I get more and more dragged into it lol)

Name: Wanyi (Wahn-yi)

Age: 20

Pronouns: it/its

Basics

Macaque’s apprentice

Not actually a ‘angel’ (bc of the whole chinese myth thing)

cursed as an infant to not be able to touch anyone or they kill that person (rapunzel basically)

serves as MK’s ‘foil’ throught the story

didn’t like using a staff, so it decided to use a sword (shadows can be changed into different things, so when they learned their magic, they changed it to a sword instead of a staff)

has eyes all over their body, glowing purple with no sclera (thanks shadow magic)

Personality

(description comes from @namusthetic)

cold stares and blank faces

looking cold but have strong morals

observing before making any assumptions

extremely rational

always pessimistic about humanity

believing that no one is completely innocent, so they never judge

nothing can really surprise them anymore

repeating to themselves that they don’t care but they end up caring too much in the end

gut instincts

living on coffee, fast food and bad habits

the rational ones out of the group

could actually pass off as the main character of a hard-boiled detective novel if they wanted to

determined to never give up until the case is solved

Role as MK’s Foil

what is a foil?

In any narrative, a foil is a character who contrasts with another character, typically, a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist. A foil to the protagonist may also be the antagonist of the plot. (according to wikipedia)

While MK thinks hes the warrior when he’s actually the hero, Wan ‘thinks’ they’re the hero when theyre the warrior

they believe that they’ve gotten stronger and don’t care about him

who is ‘he?’ I’ll let you speculate

pushes people away to protect them from itself, while MK lets people in to hide his insecurities/prove his worth; ones mean for selfless reasons, another is kind for ‘selfish’ reasons (Mk isnt selfish, the reason is self centered)

Both didn’t choose these paths; MK joined out of ignorance, Wan joined out of awareness

both believe that no matter what they do, it leads to pain. But while MK decides to try anyway, Wan accepts it and becomes a villain/numb to pain (others and their own)

unlike the other character’s Wan’s eyes don’t have the shine. They’re blank. has a meltdown scene

Playlist

Queen of Mean from Descendants

Revived by Deriviakat

Mr. Bones by kroh

Drift Away from Steven Universe

Other Friends from Steven Universe

Hurt Incantation from Tangled; the Series

Alastor’s Part of the Finale Song from Hazbin Hotel

Open Up Your Eyes from MLP: The Movie

ADDICT by SilvaHound

everybody likes you by lemon demon

World Burn from Mean Girls

Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

Snippets

“Wanyi, Macaque’s student, has, DIED FOR THEIR FRIENDS! Sorry to disappoint, but that’s NOT how this ends.. I’m hungry for feeling like never before. The constraints of my curse surely have a back door.. Once I figure out how to unclip my wings, GUESS WHO WILL BE PULLING ALL THE STRINGS?!”

”Feel? I stopped feeling a long time ago.”

“Sensei was right. You are Monkey King’s successor. Dumb and emotional like him too.”

“It’s me again~!”

What MK would look like if he had the same eyes as Wanyin

(Wan has glowy purple eyes with white pupils all over their body for compensation but still)

#six eyed angel #lmk #lego monkie kid #oc #lmk macaque #lmk mk

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tohisprettyc00l · 1 year

Note

to elaborate on the actor au- sorry-

like small snippet of the owl house characters + y/n behind the scenes? as if they were shooting the entire show, and doing interviews and such about the owl house??

Requested on Tumblr

A/n: Eugh I'm not that happy with this but this is the best it's going to be. Also, I didn't change the character's names. Everyone is human but it would be odd to have them refer to themselves in the 3rd person

Recently you and your friend, Luz had been selected to play in a new show "The Owl House." Which was pretty exciting for both of you. You meant while working on a project around a year ago. But neither of you have been in any of the same projects since.

The first day of filming was surely an experience. It was the first highly fantasy-themed show you were on. But it was honestly a lot of fun! Amity was A LOT nicer off set. Honestly you tell this was going to be one of the best shows to act in.

------------------------------------Time skip to after (filming) the final---------------------------------------------

Listen, you've heard of actors getting attached to their characters. Hell, You've become attached to a few of yours! But never to this degree. You just got done filming the final. You knew a lot of what was going to happen. You were a secondary main character! But god did it hit so much harder to have it acted out! Kinda...

It hit so much harder post editing. You, Luz, Eda, and The Collector, couldn't help during Luz's death. It's kinda hard to be taken seriously when you're in the air wearing a green full bodysuit. Luz didn't really seem to be in the know for much of the final. She seemed really shocked when she learned of her death. Once the hilarity of the situation wore off Luz's performance was tear jerking.

Also the rest of the hex squad had very different opinions being somewhat whatcast to the side for the episode. Amity was upset despite being the main character's girlfriend having a minor role. Hunter on the other hand seemed relieved to just have a break. After around a week you and your fellow actors got an interview. But we'll be focusing on your friends here.

What were the hardest scenes to act in? Luz: Scenes with Hooty aren't hard in the traditional sense. But have you ever had to talk to people holding up a giant paper mache bird and keep a straight face?

Eda: Having to do magic in earlier seasons wasn't fun. You think it's going to be easy to just move your hands in a big circle! But no, the circle was too big! Listen as sad as it was, I'm happy I lost my magic.

Collector: That stupid star. Flying on what I think was weirdly strong cardboard was not comforting. Also any scenes that I had to "Fly" in were weird.

Amity: The puppet scene Staying completely still sounds easy. But you move a lot more than you realize.

Hunter: The possessed scene, do I need to say more?

For Eda, Collector and Hunter, how long does getting ready to look like the character take?

Eda: Wasn't that hard early on just throw on some white body paint and contacts. By the end it wasn't much different, just one different contact and special effects on my arm.

Collector: Face paint doesn't take that long. Though making the freckles can be a bit of a chore.

Hunter: The one scar was already annoying having to make sure it was in the same spot and all. But having six more? Eugh.

And lastly how do you feel about how the fandom feels about your character?

Luz: It's nice she's so well liked. But I wish people would stop making her oblivious and stupid! She's honestly really smart! But once you don't realize your past rival has a crush on you, you're suddenly the dumbest person alive.

Eda: You are all weird but not wrong and that's all I'm saying.

Collector: It was cool to become a fan favorite even when I was only speaking and not on screen. It is kinda funny seeing how many people thought I was actually evil-evil though.

Amity: Not much to say, the fans are cool, and the people who aren't seem to be pretty civil.

Hunter: A lot of you are cool! You also seem to reduce me to my trauma, but still cool.

A/n: I made this at 2am. I hope this was okay at least.

#toh x reader #the owl house x reader #actor au

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space-writes · 7 months

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find the word tag

tagged by @ahordeofwasps, thank you! my words are care, call, center, and corrupt

i'm going to break tradition and search in my recently finished fic book, The Perils of Wanting because it's with my beta right now so i'm not allowed to edit it but it's rotating in my brain constantly

tagging @serenanymph @foxboyclit and @vollzz with the words pining, soft, awake, and open (fox i just want to see you post more writing ngl. am i fishing for blorbo snippets? maybe.)

care

Besides, he’d long ago proven to himself that care like that was beyond his capabilities.

call

“You’re not supposed to come in on red.” River ignored him and slipped into the playroom, nudging the door further open as he did. “My Master’s only gone with Ms Thorne for a minute, he’ll be back soon.” It still thrilled him to be able to call Rizeth that, and he tried not to smile like an idiot at the possessive delight that shot through him at saying it.

center (or centre, because i write in british english :p)

He followed her to the back room, whose walls were hung not with belts, bracers, and armour, but manacles, harnesses, and hoods. The same solid oak workbench still dominated the centre of the room, stained and scratched with age. Alys laid out the pieces she’d made for him and stood aside. One hand sat confidently on her hip while she chewed at the thumbnail of the other.

corrupt

nothing for this one

(also i know obedience doesn't have a taglist and sorry for unprompted tagging, but i also know not everyone from obedience-land follows this sideblog, so: @britta-ashcroft @exe-cutivebird @lawful-evil-novelist @everybodyloveshippos i figure you will enjoy these snippets)

#writeblr #obedience fic blogging #i have given up keeping fic off this blog #i write so much i might as well #find the word tag #the word pining is in there because that's the thesis word for this series

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mistressheroine · 4 months

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author interview

Thank you for the tags @gneebee & @im-immortal

Happy New Year everyone!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

43,408

3. what fandoms do you write for?

The Walking Dead - Beth Greene/Daryl Dixon

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Keep Me

A Stolen Moment

La Dame Blanche

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Something

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes, and I try my best to respond to every comment I get. I massively appreciate all the support and feedback I get so I try my best to acknowledge that.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Something was definitely the angstiest thing I've written so far, although I do have a second part for La Dame Blanche in my notes that would probably beat it...

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I Want Your Midnights probably 😉

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully I haven't had any hate directed my way since I started posting earlier this year but I know it happens.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I want Your Midnights was my first attempt at writing smut and I gotta say I'm so proud of how it turned out. Writing smut always made me really nervous but once I got started it was actually so much fun and it's defintely something I plan to do again.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

No, and I don't have any plans to.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, although it sounds like it coulld be fun!

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

Beth & Daryl - I am literally never getting over them.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a lot of ideas jotted down, snippets of fic ideas or scenes rather than stuff in my WIPs. I do intend to get around to them all eventually. I did have a whole Beth Lives idea that I came up with a while ago about her going back to the farm but I think it's more likely that the idea is going to get incorporated into Keep Me at some point rather than it growing into it's own story.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Oh wow, I don't know. I'm not very good at critquing myself. Hopefully keeping them as much in character as I can?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Right now I feel like action sequences (I'm trying to write some action sequences for the latest chapter of Keep Me) - creating the right vibe for them and building the suspense. I also think sometimes I'm in danger of repeating the same words a lot when describing something. Having the confidence to trust myself once I've written something out as well, I do look to @im-immortal for a lot of reassurance and I massive appreciate her taking the time to read the stuff I send to her 😊

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I did a bit of this in La Dame Blanche but I don't think I'd ever be confident enough to use more than a few words at a time. Google translate is notroious for messing stuff up and I wouldn't want to do it if I wasn't confident that I was getting it right.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Alias on FF.net - I post one very short fic there once and then Something was originally posted over there back in 2014 but I didn't write anything from then until earlier on this year.

20. favourite fic you've written?

Keep Me has my heart right now because it's the biggest thing I've ever attempted, but writing I Want Your Midnights was so much fun and really made me feel more confident as a writer.

A lot of you have been tagged already so sorry if I'm tagging you again but anyone who wants to join in please do! @burningupasun @boltthrutheheart @sasusc @fairybellworld

#author interview #tag game #bethyl fanfiction #fic writers

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