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#Boombox Scene
k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 10 months
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Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger) on the set of A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
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wylanbsoundcloud · 11 months
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little ... goober ...
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codyvondell · 6 months
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remaking some of my 2000s cover art into stickers / tshirt designs for the discord community thats digging up all the old myspace era electro/ emo bands haha. we've officially entered throwback era 🙃
all the old 2000s music is also available at codyvondell.bandcamp.com
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sadsoftserve · 3 months
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These gays are making me brainrot.
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i uhh. saw a screenshot from 'say anything' (1989) and then. made it fengqing 😳😳 (also those are the lyrics from '武家坡/wu jia po' bc i have had it stuck in mY HEAD FOR A MONTH NOW IT WILL NOT GO AWAY HAAAAALP ;A; but actually don't, the song fucking SLAPS, if anything had to be stuck in my head i'm glad it's this one 🥺)
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highlifeboat · 1 month
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No thoughts, only Sarah Sanderson grabbing their chest in surprise/fear
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impandgnomes · 11 months
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I will admit that to some these days 7x14 (Raisins) might be a weird choice for an ep I'd rank amongst the ones I really like, but it has the goth kids and it has the theme of how you can be sad about shit and that's important but you've gotta move on and embrace the happiness that's out there and it's such a core value of an episode to me because of all of the above
like fwiw that ep was so real for that
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halforcdad · 2 years
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twitter 🤝 tumblr
curling the monkey's paw when we said we were excited about the grand gesture
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sansbanshees · 2 years
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say anything hellcheer au when
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birdstooth · 1 year
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Ok wow y’all were really feeling that poto/say anything spoof huh
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The actual apologetic scene in Zootopia was perfect the way it was, but imagine how it'd go with Judy pulling a Say Anything by lifting a radio or at least an iPod over her head playing a soothing song in hope to win Nick's forgiveness.
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bangaveragewhitewine · 2 months
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the boy is mine (amy's edition)
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Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!
wc: 1,800
contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt
notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷
the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer. 
the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here 
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April 1985
You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.
It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.
Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes. 
Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.
If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too. 
“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus. 
“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.
The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body. 
That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded. 
“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver. 
A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard. 
The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy. 
Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks. 
The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa. 
You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.” 
Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.
When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.
He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time. 
He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.
Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.
“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla. 
“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if  there’s a Mr Crocker…”
You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years. 
“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face. 
“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”
He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon. 
“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.” 
“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you. 
“And you like that?” you ask.
“I do.”
Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.
Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…” 
He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.
“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.” 
Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”
“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.” 
“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense). 
“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.
As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge. 
You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting. 
“Hm?”
“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.” 
You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.
“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop. 
“Okay, I’m cutting you off.” 
The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.
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thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!
Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!
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yournowheregirl · 7 months
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@eddiemonth day 4: rejection
rating: T | wc: 913 | cw: hurt/comfort, general & UD related anxiety, hoh!Steve, pre-Steddie
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Eddie flops down on his bed with a load groan.
He blindly reaches for a pillow and once he’s found one, he uses it to muffle his screams. It barely dampens the sound, but he's home alone anyway. He screams and screams until his throat starts to hurt and the tears he tried so hard to ignore, finally well up in his eyes.
Another rejection.
Another place that didn't want to hire him.
Even with all the strings Hopper and those government guys had pulled to clear his name, Eddie can't escape his brand-new reputation of local satanist and serial killer. There was a press conference and everything, and a personal apology from the police department, but it still wasn't enough to sway the public's opinion of him.
But he has to get a job, like yesterday. They'll run out of that government money sooner or later and he can't expect Wayne to continue cleaning up his mess. Wayne's done enough of that already.
Eddie's tried almost every place in town. His first instinct was the record store and the garage, because that's what where his interests and experience lie. They turned him away as soon as he came in to drop off his resume.
When he told his friends about his job search, Steve immediately offered to put a good word in for him at Family Video. Robin would ask their parents if they knew about any job openings and Nancy would do the same, though she'd avoid Eddie's name while talking to her father. Gareth, Jeff and Frank suggested he'd ask for a job at The Hideout, while Jonathan and Argyle suggested the local pizza place, because of course they would.
None of those jobs ever got back to him.
Today was one of his last resorts. The diner on the other side of town had an opening for a dishwasher. Not exactly the kind of job Eddie wanted, but it meant keeping a low profile and it would pay the bills. He'd take the job in a heartbeat, but the restaurant manager took one good look at him and sent him away before she even took one good look at his resume.
"We don't hire murderers." She'd sneered.
Any other day, Eddie would've maybe stand up for himself, made a whole scene, maybe even called the cops to prove his innocence yet again. But he was so burnt out from rejection after rejection, that he just shrugged, got into his van and drove all the way back home.
Even though the screaming helped a little, Eddie can still feel his mind buzzing, thoughts of anxiety swirling around and threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something quick. He rolls off the bed, put whatever tape he can get his hands on into his boombox and turns up the volume to the loudest setting.
Other people might listen to soothing music to calm down, but Eddie needs the loudest, most aggressive music to drown out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of never getting a job and leaving it up to Wayne to pick up the pieces, driving him to work harder and longer, until his brittle body can't take it anymore. Thoughts of losing their home again, being forced to call Rick again
It's all his fault. Everything is his fault.
Tears slowly roll down his cheeks as the music continues playing, so loud that he doesn't hear Wayne coming home. So loud that he doesn't hear Wayne picking up the phone to call someone. So loud that he doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door twenty minutes later.
It's not until his bedroom goes completely quiet that Eddie finally notices he's not alone. For a second he thinks it's Wayne, but when he hears a muffled "oh thank God" from the other side of the trailer, he realizes that it must be someone else.
"Y'know, if you were so jealous of my new accessories, you could've just said so. No reason to shatter your eardrums like this." Steve says with a teasing grin. The sunlight reflects on the hearing aids he'd gotten a few months ago and of course, he pulls it off like he's a goddamn Calvin Klein model.
"Sorry."
Eddie's voice is small, barely recognizable to his own ears and Steve immediately picks up on it. His teasing smile fades away as he walks over to the bed and sit down next to Eddie. He shuffles around a bit to find a comfortable seat against the headboard and pats his lap.
Completely drained from his terrible day, Eddie doesn't even try to fight it and cuddles up next to Steve. He rests his head in Steve's lap and lets out a sigh of relief when Steve's hands find their way to his scalp.
"What's going on?" Steve asks softly.
"Another fucking job didn't want me." Eddie mutters against the fabric of his polo.
Steve hums in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. You wanna talk about it or do you want some quiet time?"
"Quiet, please."
"Alright."
See, with Steve around, Eddie doesn't need the music to drown out his bad thoughts. They float away on their own as soon as Steve cuddles with him and starts massaging his scalp. Or, on other occasions, they float away when Steve distracts him by talking about Robin's hopeless love life.
Steve being there for him just helps, in general.
Eddie doesn't wanna look into that realization too much.
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spectral-honey · 2 years
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Damian getting one of those scenes where fun/upbeat music plays while he kills/beats up a bunch of people
At the end Damian turns and yells "Todd turn off that infernal music! Do you know the meaning of subtlety" & the music cuts off as Jason walks out with a boombox on his shoulder
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missd1vine · 2 years
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DATING TEEN!MICHAEL AFTON HEADCANONS!
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˖ ݁ ˓ — g. teen romance ♡
the eighteen year old boy with a fox fursona? boy he is a handful.
but so romantic
every friday night michael will take you to the late-night drive-in movies. if there’s a kissing scene don’t be surprised when he clangs onto you and starts kissing all over your face <3
take my breath away by berlin is your guys’ love song because I said so
your first date is at a skating rink, you were both clumsy at first but got the hang of it the more you two practiced together
play fighting is a childish teen thing that just happens, play fights are his thing so just play along with it. Although, if he does hurt you on accident he’ll apologize over and over until your reassurance finally sits right with him
He may be a bully but he's not a monster
he loves showing you off, his hand always intertwining with yours, or arm wrapped around your waist
you do something awesome in public he’ll be like “Hell Yeah! That's my boy/my girl/my love of my life!”
if you tried once to scare him out of nowhere with his foxy mask, he'd laugh at you thinking it's more adorable than ‘scary’
payback. you walked around the woods of the neighborhood and surprise surprise, the afton’s were your neighbors. your peace had to be ruined when your boyfriend thought it’d be funny to scare you unexpectedly with that hideous foxy mask just to see that reaction of yours. he finds your reaction hilarious- also your fear is adorable- so just to make it up to he’ll hold you and kiss your faces with whispering ‘apologies’ while snorting out laughs- your reaction always getting him
corny 80s teen love coming- he would visit you at night knocking on your window and immediately pull you into a passionate kiss
You both had a fight? He would play your guys’ love song on a boombox outside your house as an apology- with a loving pleading face saying “I hate arguing, I love you so much. You mean the world to me.”
He gets jealous— very easily. Like this boy loves you so much it’s insane- not the yandere type but the type where he loves you and can’t think of a world where you guys aren’t together. His father abuses and him and you are the light of his life. You are his moon more than his sun because the moon brights up the darkness
michael is crazy for you- his friends would tease him a lot but his reply will be “Shut up you doormats!” typical 80s bully boy insults.
will leave little gifts in your locker— packs of gum of your fav flavor, love notes, and just doodles he did for you :)
speaking of lockers, expect, like almost everyday, the pinning against you onto your locker and a pair of lips that are slightly chapped but with pleasant flavor of bubblegum. Michael would always smirk at your flushed state then nuzzle his forehead against yours mumbling soft ‘I love yous’
He would win you any prizes you wanted in Fredbear’s family diner or Freddy Fazbear’s pizza with his great gaming arcade skills
For christmas he gave you an album of your fav artist with a sticky note saying, “I love you. I love you so fucking much. One day we will run away, get married, dance to songs in our big ass living room, and grow old together.”
He would steal things or snacks just for you.
Most of the time you guys argue for the dumbest stuff but seconds later a heated make-out happens.
he likes it when you wear his leather bracelets or shirts because it just gives him the euphoria to know your his.
before going on dates, he would style his mullet and practice his introduction when he sees you and Liz will walk in making fun of his love struck love for you which will result Michael saying, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”
poor boy was humiliated when his sister told you what Michael does before your dates
©MISSD1VINE 2022 — do not copy, steal & re-write my work. if you want to write something inspired off my works plz ask permission. 🛼
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snenbubs · 4 months
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I've been reading your work for a while now and the way you write for Mammon is amazing, you're definitely my favourite writer for him. So I was wondering if you aren't too busy if could you please write breakup headcanons for mammon
HELLO! Thank you so, so much!!! It means so much to me that you enjoy what I write! Most of it is my delerious train of thought at like 1am so im honestly shocked at the amount of support ive been getting!
ANYWAYS, ONTO THE HCS!
HB MAMMON X GN!READER, BREAKUP HCS
I'm assuming you meant like, if you broke up with Mammon? If thats not what u meant just send in another anon! I wont mind :3
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- Okay, first of all, how dare you?
- He is, the Mammon. You don't just decide when things are over!
- You were smart enough to break it off with him over text, rather than in person, because he absolutely would throw a scene. No matter where you are, public or private. Think Sarah Lynn level shit.... like, literally stabbing himself, in public, to prove a point.
- What is the point? That he loves you!
- He's especially pissed off about the fact that you broke it off with him though. It bruised his ego, he would much, much prefer it if he had been the one to have broken up with you. He would have never done that though.
- He would go through the five stages of grief 100%
- For the first few days he's in DEEP denial about it. He'd go about life as though the two of you were still together, even though you weren't there.
- Pretending that you were on a work trip or something really helped. It gave him a sense of hope that one day you'd return to him, and he'd feel your warm body embraced against his once again.
- But you and Mammon were a big public thing, like, everyone knew about you. So, people started to notice your absence. Where you would always be by his side now bore an empty pocket of air. People started questioning it;
- From simple posts online to 666News interviews asking him invasive questions regarding your lack of publicity. It pissed him right off, because he couldn't pretend you were still with him whilst constantly being reminded that you weren't.
- And then you spoke up about the breakup.
- You made a Tweet regarding the status of your relationship. Que the next stage...
- With the world now aware of your distanced status Mammon was bombarded with crude comments and remarks, from your fans and haters, to his fans and haters. It'd range from "Wow Mammon fumbled the bag hard." to "Now that Mammon is single do you think he'll start letting groupies backstage ?"
- He actually refused to show up to a lot of interviews and talk-shows because every single time theu brought up the headline, he would get so, so angry. He's almost torn through an interviewer once or twice.
- His bargaining phase was the absolute worst phase though.
- Thousands of calls a day, and an equal level of voice messages followed by hundreds of texts. You'd block his number and then BAM, another number calls you. He manipulates the phone manufacturer of Hell to give him an unlimited free supply of phones so expect him to not let up in that department.
- You know that meme where the person is stood outside the door, crying, with an umbrella over their head and fake rain over them. That's him.
- He gets Beelzebub to provide the fake rain and probably prepared a whole speech to recite to you... its not that good though, most of it is deflective bullshit. He wont take his own problems into account at all.
- If you don't take him back after that then he may even resort to the old boombox by the window trick.
- I don't think he'd hit the depression or acceptance stages of grief, though. He's a tempermental character and he resorts to anger if something doesn't go his way. So the traits he shows through this whole ordeal is frustration and desperation.
- He has a strict victim complex too. So he's most likely never going to understand what he did wrong in the relationship.
- Even if he did realise what he did however, he isn't apologising. He expects you to understand and forgive him despite this.
-It would take him a long while to get over you.
-You were one of the only people who would put up with his shitty personality, who could make him feel so loved and adored. It had been a long, long time since someone had made him feel such a way. It was such a fleeting experience, and he will not be recovering from the loss of your love any time soon.
This is a little short, so I do apologise! I hope you enjoy it anon :)
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