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frecklystars · 2 years

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do you mind if i ask how you go about asking for cameos? im trying to go about asking for one for one of my f/os but ive never done it, what should i prepare, if anything? (if u dont wanna answer this/dont have the time thats cool, have a good day!!)

Ohghgh it's been a hot minute... god I miss cameo... their layout may have changed since I've been gone but I can absolutely give you tips 💖

Check the publicly posted cameos. See how long or short they are and determine if it'd be worth your money. I always think it's good when someone gives me over 40 seconds of dialogue, but most of the time it can range from 30 seconds to 1 minute or more, depending on who you purchase. My longest F/O cameo was 10 minutes and my shortest was about 20 seconds. And even the 20 second cameo is special to me! But not everyone feels like it's worth it when a cameo is super super short. For me it depends on the F/O and the voice actor, like if Steve ever gave me a short cameo, however rare that was, I didn't mind because I love anything Starscream could possibly say to me. But if I were to request something from any VA other than Steve for a less major F/O and they gave me only 20 seconds... it wouldn't feel worth it to me. But everyone is different!

Ok for the cameo request itself. What do you want to feel when you open it? Do you want to be comforted? Do you want to feel loved? Do you want to feel encouraged?

Normally, I request encouragement, even if I'm not really needing a specific feeling. Sometimes I think "damn I want a F/O to talk to me" and I will request a pep talk like "you've got this!" or something soft like "remember you're loved and you matter!"

I cannot stress enough tho, you have to tell the VA that you want it in the character voice. Sometimes you can tell a VA "hey I love this character. anyway can I have a pep talk" and they'll spend the cameo time talking about the character, instead of having the actual character do the encouraging. Which is still nice, but when your hopes are up for your F/O to talk to you and you don't get that, then it's a little disappointing. I normally write mine as "May I please request [character] saying [insert phrase I want here]?"

The character/word limit absolutely kills me. I wish I knew how to navigate around that. I just shorten "you" to "u" and "and" to "&", stuff like that... the way they split it into sections doesn't help much either :')

If you want your F/O to be romantic but you're too shy to request a straight up "I love you" you can always say "I have a crush on this character" and the VA will completely understand and probably slip in a little flirty line for you. Voice actors are most likely used to ppl getting crushes on their characters, esp if their character is WELL loved in their respective fandom (i.e. Silco from Arcane). Once I requested a cameo from Princess Bubblegum's voice actor from Adventure Time, and I was a little too shy to just up and write "can you say something romantic to me" so I just said "I have a little crush on PB" or something, and she responded with a lot of flirting sdfkljsdf

Also bonus points if you want them to call you a nickname, I normally write it in the "what should [voice actor] know about you?" and I write "can you have [character] call me [nickname] too?" like for silco's VA I asked him to call me his "fallen star" and he was rly soft w/ it...

I hope any of these could be of help 💕

#anonymous #asks #kericakes cameos

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richietozierluv · 6 years

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it was final - (richie tozier) part 5 of 5

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Summary: Back to where it all began, the heart of the town, the infamous house.

Author’s Note: this took me forever to write and feel free to leave any angry complaints about any damage I've caused

Word Count: 2,455

Warnings: Swearing, ?Angst?

In some ideal world, where clowns didn’t exist to torture children, and boys didn’t pull knives on their own fathers, perhaps there’d be an ending in which everybody could be happy. But, it is inevitable for things to go terribly wrong.

For the longest time, your only fear had been the shapes of the shadows in your bedroom late at night. You would lay awake hoping that the pile of clothes on your floor wouldn’t start moving, or that at least the monster underneath would be polite enough to introduce itself before devouring you whole. Not before long, you had gotten over this fear, and had planted a new one, in the boy that made your heart and your eyes flutter. From that, grew not the fear of him, but the fear of a life without.

So, when the words left your mouth, “Go fuck yourself Richie,” you felt as if you had taken another leap off of the Quarry, but this time, without his hand in yours; and you thought to yourself whether or not that was how he felt when he had said, “you’re a real bitch you know that?”

“What’s the plan?” Beverly stood up next to Bill, sparing Richie a pitiful glance, remembering all the times she had caught him with you in this exact place.

“We should find Y/n, right? She’s the reason we’re here in the first place,” Eddie said. They all looked at Richie, who was staring at the ground, with his hands pulling slightly at his hair. “Rich, do you know where she could’ve gone?”

“M-m-maybe she wuh-went t-to the barrens?” added Bill, now wringing his hands and staring left and right down the street, looking for something.

“No. I don’t think she- she wouldn’t go to the Barrens,” Richie stood up, “and I don’t think we should find her, yet.”

“W-w-what?”

“Just think about it,” he started to pace, while Eddie shared a worried look with Beverly, “this summer, the times we saw IT individually weren’t that bad, yeah?”

“Sp-sp-speak for y-yourself,”

“I just mean, that the real shit, the shit that almost killed us, only started happening when Mike finally joined. When it became the 8 of us,”

“Richie, that- that was just a coincidence,” Beverly shook her head.

“No! No it wasn’t! Bill- you know what I’m talking about,” Richie turned to him, and it was as if he were looking through Bill.

“B-but it’s j-j-just the fuh-five of us this t-time,”

“I don’t think that matters. Honestly, Derry probably couldn’t be happier,”

“So what are you saying?” Eddie finally stood up, now there was a sharp pain in his arm that he chose to ignore, “just let Y/n deal with this by herself? Are you kidding-“

“When we left Derry, something broke, didn’t it?” Beverly turned to Bill.

“Y/n’s s-still a p-part of D-Derry. Sh-she never left,” he held onto her hand, “I think- w-we’re okay, o-or at least a-alive for now, wuh-while we’re sp-split up,”

Richie sighed, a mixture of relief and guilt for having let you walk away, “Okay, so what do we-“

“E-except y-you Richie,”

“Sorry, what-?”

You barely noticed where you were going, too distracted by the look Richie had given you before you turned to walk away, and how that could possibly be the last time you saw him. It probably wouldn’t have hurt so much if he didn’t smile, or if he begged you to stay. And if you had known that he had broken down the moment you turned the street corner, maybe you would have run back, and maybe you wouldn’t be standing in front of the infamous house on Neibolt Street. But you didn’t know, and your feet had crossed the threshold as soon as you realised that this was your worst idea yet.

“I know you’re not dead,” you whispered, walking past the lower floors, and straight up the stairs. If you had taken the time to look around, you would have noticed that behind the decaying wallpaper, ‘missing person’ posters plastered the drywall, displaying the faces of everybody who now lived in Derry, and the faces of those who had come back to save you. “I’ve had enough of your shit okay?” you didn’t bother to speak above a whisper, “but please,” you started to sob despite not being able to cry, “don’t hurt them- d-don’t hurt them, p-p-please.” The door shut behind you as you stumbled over the uneven floor and into the bathroom, where six months ago, you came face to face with IT for the first time.

“Y-you’ve a-already gone and s-seen her. And if y-your theory is t-true, I d-don’t think-“

“No, no that’s not what I meant!” Richie looked around at the others, who were staring at the ground awkwardly, not meeting his eyes.

“Richie, s-stop, I mean, y-you can actually go help Y/n in-instead,”

“She doesn’t want my help, she doesn’t even wanna fucking see me,” he sat back down on the curb, his face in his heads, barely audible, “she’s better off without me,”

They stood there in silence, unsure of what to say, until Eddie sat down, putting an arm around Richie’s shoulders. “I hate to agree with him Rich, but- I think she’d take any help at this point. And look,” he chewed his lip nervously, “we know that blood on you isn’t just hers.”

Richie looked up at Eddie, lost for words, shaking under his friend’s arm, when Beverly had just noticed the familiar dark red stain on his shirt from what must’ve been months ago.

“How- Richie isn’t that from-?” she took a step closer, and gasped when she realised that the blood was fresh, and much worse than she could remember.

“It happened ages ago, when Henry had his knife to my stomach,” his breathing hitched as he laughed, “You remember that right? When I punched him?”

“So, why is it- what happened to you?” Beverly couldn’t bring herself to laugh along with the others.

“B-by seeing Y/n, I- I think he’s kind of, I dunno, a part- part of Derry again,” Bill felt Beverly tense up beside him. “And, the same- the same thing tha-that’s happening to her, i-is happening to R-Richie.”

“And the blood on my hands, I think- the scars from when Stan cut us, they’re opening up?”

Bill nodded, noticing the look on Eddie’s face, and how he clutched his arm.

“E-Eddie-“

“I know where she is,” Richie had interrupted Bill, and stood up, “I’ll catch up with you later, and if Y/n’s not dead yet, I might bring her too,”

Eddie glared at him, “Beep beep, Richie.”

You stared at the drain in the middle of the tiled room, then at the broken toilet in the corner, remembering Richie’s joke from six months ago, and smiling, despite being too terrified to move. Your friends’ voices could be heard as if they were standing right next to you, yelling at Beverly to just fucking shoot it, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Ben cowering in the bathtub, clutching at his bleeding stomach.

As you turned to help him and yell at the others, wondering why they weren’t doing anything, your feet slipped in the blood that had been dry not even two seconds ago. Your nose caught most of the impact from the edge of the tub, bringing back the throbbing pain, and at the same time, Richie had tripped over the house’s front steps; you both swore in unison, “fucking hell-”

The cut in his stomach had only gotten deeper as he made his way from Bill to you, and now, along with the renewed bleeding in his hands, he could taste blood in his mouth. Before standing up, he had taken his shirt off and wrapped it around his waist in an attempt to stem the flow, and carefully made his way back up the stairs. He reluctantly walked into the house and through to the living room, where his throat had become devoid of any saliva, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, accompanied by goose bumps.

There, sitting on the couch and gathered around the coffee table, were a dozen or so mannequins, with red balloons for heads. The most he could get out was a sob, before the balloon closest to him had popped, splattering blood onto the furniture, the floor, and himself. If it weren’t for Richie noticing that his face stared back at him on the wall, remembering how he had seen that exact poster during the summer, he would still be standing with his feet glued to the floorboards, and in the presence of Pennywise the clown.

Beverly, Bill, and Eddie found themselves in a moral predicament. On one hand, they knew that Richie wouldn’t be coming back, but whether or not that meant he’d be alive was a question they couldn’t answer. And if he were in trouble, who’s to say that by risking their own lives, that they wouldn’t be putting him in even more danger.

“I d-don’t think Richie will m-muh-make it with that c-c-cut, Eddie’s a-arm’s getting b-bad again and he ha-hasn’t sp-spoken to Y/n since he- he’s been in Derry,”

“And we don’t know what’s happened to her either,” Eddie breathed in sharply, “for all we know- shit, I don’t even wanna think about what she’s gone through,”

“But what do we do Bill? If we all get together, won’t it just- what if Richie’s theory is true?” Beverly looked up from where she sat, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her hair.

“We- we’ve survived b-before, right? And this t-t-time should be eh-easier; when we left IT six muh-months ago, we hurt IT p-p-pretty badly,”

He ran up the stairs, tripping over every other step and looking over his shoulder, making sure that nothing had followed him. But it wouldn’t have mattered if something was, as in all the commotion, Richie’s contacts had fallen out; he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a rotting house plant and a murderous clown. When he reached the second floor landing he had quickly got to his feet, narrowly sidestepping a dead rat, and held his hands out for the closest thing to hold on to. This had been an array of stacked wine bottles, and much to his luck, they toppled to the ground, glass cutting his shins, but disrupting the conversation in the bathroom.

You sat slumped against the bathtub, one hand on the edge trying to pull yourself up, and one hand pinching the top of your nose, trying to stop the bleeding. If you hadn’t felt so weak, you might have jumped when you noticed that your reflection in the mirror stood where you sat, staring at you with a blank expression.

“You alright Y/n? What happened? Are you hurt?” the ‘you’ in the mirror repeated the words your dad had said when he found you in the kitchen, a dead cat two feet from where you cried.

“What are you?-“

“Did you do this? Did you do this? Did you dothis? Did youdothis? Didyoudothis?” your reflection’s head spun around, repeating the question over and over again, now in your dad’s voice. You found yourself unable to tell what was real and what wasn’t; hitting your head had rendered your mind foggy, and no matter how hard you tried to scream “I didn’t!” all that came from your lips were a sob. All that lay between you and the other ‘you’ had been a screen of glass, and even in your state of mind you realised that there was nothing you could do. But as you sat there, your body hurting from all that had happened in the past three days, almost hopeful that this would be the end of it, the shatter of glass hadn’t come from the mirror, but from the hall outside the bathroom door.

There had been no time to think that the sound had come from anything but Richie, if the situation were different you’d laugh at his clumsiness. Your reflection had stopped spinning, its head turned to the door, then back to you, and as you both made eye contact you yelled, “Richie?!”, finally able to stand up. Hearing your voice, he waded through the dark, calling your name, following the sound as you called back; a twisted game of Marco Polo. The door wouldn’t budge, you tried to turn the handle as Richie kicked and elbowed the door from the other side, and with every sob, you could hear glass slowly cracking, and small pieces falling into the sink below.

“Richie! I’m so sorry,” you fell back from the door, nails digging into the palm of your hands, “it’s useless!” Trapped in this room, with the continued rhythm of Richie kicking the door, it would drive anyone insane. You watched, tears streaming down your face, as the mirror gradually became nothing but a hole in the wall; a window to a room just like this one.

All at once the kicking had stopped, and the door stood perfectly still, the only sound being the drip, drip, dripping of glass against porcelain. You backed away into the corner of the room, at a loss for what to do, but you didn’t dare call for Richie, more scared of the lack of answer than any at all.

“Stand back!”

“Beverly?!” the shock of hearing her voice had left you unprepared for what happened next, and as the wall came forward, so did the bathtub and the tiles around you. Bits and pieces cut into your already bruised arms and legs, but the pain meant nothing as you lowered your arms to see Richie running toward you through the smoke and dust of the explosion. He smelled of blood as he wrapped himself around you, and you couldn’t help but cry as you thought, why is he so damn cold?

Whether he even had the strength to let go, he didn’t, he held on to you as your entire body shook; your eyes burned as they strained to look through the smoke, for something that wasn’t entirely human like. Everything was quiet for a moment as you felt Richie shiver against you, ash falling onto his skin, but the only thing that emerged from the dust had been Bill, coughing and spluttering, unable to stop the tears falling down his face.

“B-Bill is everything okay?” the moment you had opened your mouth, you began to cough too.

“We f-f-f-fucking did it,” you’d forgotten what Bill looked like when he smiled.

But Richie had lost too much blood.

AN: im aware of the irony of leaving a piece of writing titled ‘it was final’ with an open ending, but for the most part it WAS final, and i suppose it’s pretty self explanatory to what happens to him ):

hopefully you enjoyed!!! again sorry it took me so long, between being in a depressive slump and writer’s block, i tried my best to write whenever i could, which mainly meant me staring at the laptop screen for a few hours

i could always write an epilogue??? but honestly its time for more things but of course if anyone would want that, id be happy to, and it’d probably be pretty short

tagged: @riverdalerebel @johnsonxstilinski @littlepaperaeroplanes @tn22220-blog @goshdarnitthatsalongname @griff1ndor @emmaamalie @longlivethetampon

#richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #it cast #it cast imagine #it movie #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things cast imagine #mike wheeler #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler x reader #richietozierluv #it was final

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