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cooliestghouliest · 4 months

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LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. one

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: absent dads and mean moms. brief mention of self-destructive tendencies (way more about that later). your brother's a total cockblock. long-winded parental background information. this is really just some stage setting before we get into the nitty gritty.

A/N: this is my favorite fic i've ever written, and now it's coming at you re-edited. it's my verbose word child, sprinkled with a few What The Fuck and Holy Shit moments, dolled up with some silly humor and a dose of hot (and often borderline depraved) smut. a lot's already planned for this, so i hope you enjoy. :-)

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chapter title: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

You weren’t expecting the high pitch of the doorbell that sounded throughout your colonial-style home, and proof of that was now spilled all over the kitchen floor.

Tiny green buds were sprinkled across the white-and-black linoleum tile, some scattered in the blonde mess of curls that belonged to the boy kneeling before you, his mouth busy between your legs.

You’d been attempting to multitask, rolling a joint while twisted awkwardly at the dining table, the quarterback’s head shrouded by your bare thighs, lapping noisily at your wet center.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh at the spillage, but it quickly turned into a moan when goldilocks gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit.

“You needa get that?” he mumbled against your folds, tongue halting its assault only to speak before diving back in, showing no intention of stopping.

You shook your head, one hand moving to tangle in the his hair, the other crumbling up the now empty and useless rolling paper. “Uh-uh… prob’ly just some Mormons,” you answer, beginning to rock your hips up into the warm mouth covering your cunt. “I don’t wanna be saved.”

Chris… or Carl… or Craig… whatever his name was, laughed, the sound vibrating nicely against your heat. Your toes curled at the sensation, thighs wrapping tight around his ears.

He moaned appreciatively at your movement, running his tongue flat against the length of your opening. Maybe you could keep this one around. He liked New Kids on the Block unironically, but holy shit, he knew what to do with his mouth.

The bell rang again.

And then again, and again, and again.

“Oh, little seeeee-eeee-ster!” came a familiar male voice from the other side of the front door. “I know you’re in there, Bean. I can see your shadow in the kitchen!”

You shot up straight, aligning your posture and pulling Chris Carl Craig from between your legs by the grip you had in his hair. He gave an unappealing whine, his fingers moving up to console his scalp.

Standing quickly, you adjusted your pleated skirt so it fell normal again, just above your knees. “Up, up, up,” you impatiently urged the jock still kneeling on the ground, smoothing your clothing and hair to make sure nothing looked too out of place.

“Who is that?” the blonde asked, finally following you into a standing position, large hand still cradling his head. “Still the Mormons?”

“It was never Mormons, Chet,” you said, hoping your shot-in-the-dark guess at his name was right.

It wasn’t.

“It’s Chad,” he said, eyes beginning to narrow. Whether it was in suspicion, confusion, annoyance, or a combination of all three, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. You needed to get him out of here without your new visitor catching sight of him, or else you knew you’d never hear the end of it. Chad was still intent on conversing, though. “We’ve literally been in the same school district since, like, kindergarten.”

You bit your lower lip, offering a sheepish smile. “Right,” you said. “I know that.” You didn’t. “Sorry. Head’s a little loopy right now. Your tongue could win awards.”

With Chad’s newfound cocky grin, you knew the flattery angle had worked out. It usually did. Boys were such suckers for some ego stroking.

“Oh, fuckin’ right!” you heard from the front door, the visitor’s voice now cheerful. The door handle began to jangle, and you heard the sound of a key in the lock.

He must have found the spare. Of course he had. He’d only lived here his entire childhood, just like you.

The key had been in the same place it always had been since moving to Fresno -- under the coir doormat that read Definitely Not a Trap Door, courtesy of your father. He’d made it for the family after moving from Chicago to California for his new teaching position at CSU in ‘70. Your mom still hadn't gotten around to throwing it out, even though she’d managed to get rid of almost everything else inside the home that reminded her of her ex-husband.

The door swung open and there stood your older brother in all his punk rock, Fuck-the-Bourgeoisie glory. Short bleached blonde hair, numerous facial piercings, ripped Dead Kennedys t-shirt, tight red tartan pants, muddy black Doc Martens. He was smiling wide, dopey.

Fuckin' Rick.

You started to match his expression, unable to resist your brother’s effortless and childlike charm, but your smile fell flat when Rick’s now disapproving gaze landed on the blonde still standing at your side.

“A Letterman, Bean? Really?” Rick asked you incredulously, having spotted Chad’s football jacket as the jock in question slid it from its place on the kitchen chair to rest over his broad shoulder.

“What?” you asked Rick coyly, quickly eyeing Chad. “You know I don’t discriminate. I’m a true equal opportunist.”

Chad seemed oblivious to the underlying context of the conversation between the pair of siblings. He was watching the two of you interact with seemingly nothing behind his eyes.

God, so cute but so totally stupid.

You closed the distance between the two of you, Chad looking hopeful he was going to be kissed or something, but you instead reached your hand out to pluck a few pieces of weed from his hair. “You can go now,” you told him, finger tapping his nose lightly.

Chad’s face scrunched at your touch but he then shrugged it off, picking his backpack up off the kitchen floor before making his way to the front door. “See ya at school,” he said to you over his shoulder. Stopping briefly next to your brother, Chad assessed him before saying, “Um, bye, whoever you are.”

Rick pulled his lips into a tight line, raising his brows in amusement. He clapped his hand hard on Chad’s back a few times before pushing the footballer out the door. “Later, loverboy.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour and a half later, you and Rick were seated on opposite ends of the tufted tuxedo sofa in the living room. A box of half-eaten extra cheese pizza laid open in between the two of you.

Some low budget horror VHS was playing on the TV across from the couch, the volume low. You thought it was called Ghoulies. You kept catching glances of tiny, ugly wet looking monsters scurrying on the screen out of your peripheral.

You’d been talking to Rick about senior year at Fresno Central High (you said you were doing great, straight A’s across the board, but in reality, you were failing everything but English and Music).

You'd been talking about work at Spins and Needles, the record store you’d been employed at for a little over two years now (you told him you’d gotten promoted to Assistant Manager, which was true, but you left out the fact that you were on Strike Two of Three for blowing off shifts to get high with some goth kids that routinely came in a few hours before closing).

And you'd been talking about your mom (this you were honest about – “She’s still a huge bitch, Rick, that hasn’t changed”).

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

That’s where you stopped him.

You were not going to talk about your dad.

Flipping the pizza box lid shut harshly, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Why are you really here?” you demanded.

Rick sighed, defeated.

He knew you’d catch on soon enough that this supposed innocent visit was actually a planned mission. He’d just been hoping maybe you’d be the one to breach the topic of going back to Indiana with him. Maybe you wanted out of this Californian hellhole. A chance at a fresh start, hundreds of miles away.

But he knew you recently had developed a penchant for self-destruction and self-catastrophizing, which meant getting you to see the bright side and the positives of his request was going to be near impossible.

Still, he had to try.

“Mom called me,” he admitted, which earned him a dramatic eye roll from you. “I know you’re failing your classes. I know your boss has been blowing up the landline wondering why you keep closing up shop so early. And I know mom’s a bitch. I’m trying to save you from her. She said she’s thinking of enrolling you into St. Mary’s.” Rick wasn’t surprised at the bewildered scoff you gave to that, St. Mary’s being Indiana’s notorious Catholic boarding school for wayward girls. He’d finally gotten to the point, the real reason he was there: “Come stay with me in Hawkins, Bean.”

“Wow, Rick, so noble. It only took you, what, ten years to come back for me?”

Rick couldn’t help but flinch, your wounding words accusing. And accurate.

It was true.

Rick, at twenty, had left Fresno in an old RV he’d bought for dirt cheap, with plans to travel the country and get the fuck away from his parents, Ronald and Maureen Lipton.

Or, away from his mother, really.

Ron Lipton was generally fine -- until a certain point in his life. To outsiders, the man seemed to be very happy and very put-together, successfully established in both his home life and his career.

Ron and Maureen had gotten married just a few short months following their high school graduation, after finding out Maureen was pregnant with Rick.

With the draft ever present, Ron enlisted in the army, while Maureen enlisted the help of her mother-in-law to take care of Rick (and eventually you, once you were born, conceived on one of Ron’s short stints back home), so she could work on her doctorate in psychiatry.

After being honorably discharged a handful of years later, Ron had gotten his Master’s degree in education and creative writing.

To the public, Ronald and Maureen Lipton were fantastic at keeping up the facade of Perfect Suburban Family.

In private, however, the Lipton household was like living in a layer of Hell.

Where Ron was imaginative and endlessly inquisitive, instilling a love of storytelling and curiosity in his children, Maureen was passive aggressive and judgemental, harboring jealousy for the relationship her children had with her husband. This eventually festered a spiteful dynamic between her and Ron, and between her and her offspring as well.

When the two of you were younger, Rick in his late teens and you in your last years of elementary school, one of your favorite backyard games was to wonder aloud to each other how and why your parents had ever even gotten together in the first place.

You were both sure that it must have been an arranged marriage of some sorts.

Rick thought maybe your grandparents had made a deal with the devil, and to ensure the safety of the family, Ronald and Maureen were forced to be betrothed for life.

You thought maybe Maureen was an evil sorceress who had cast a spell on your father, trapping him in a loveless marriage that he was an unsuspecting victim in.

The truth was not stranger than fiction.

The reason behind their nuptials was simple, really: Ronald was raised to believe he needed to provide for his family, and after having knocked Maureen up not only once but twice, he was resigned to the fact that this was his path in life.

Devoted father, loving husband.

While he couldn’t stand his wife, her harshness and indignation usurping any positive characteristics she may have once had, Ron did love his children. Dearly.

Rick was his wild child; his rebellious, rambunctious trouble maker.

Ron would sit on the front porch late at night, waiting for Rick to get home and tell him all about his latest escapades. What parties he’d gone to, what girls he’d kissed, whether he preferred the high from acid or mushrooms more. Ron lived vicariously through his son, encouraging the boy to play hard, but to play hard responsibly.

You were Ron’s Little Leia of Alderaan; his opinionated, open-minded warrior, brave enough to stand up to any bully who’d dare to make fun of you or your friends. You were Ron’s daydreamer, his whimsical muse, his daily reminder that there was still innocent softness in this cruel world.

You would have Daddy Daughter Dates twice a week, where you’d do things like go to the roller rink or have picnics in the park, and they always ended with a two scoop mint chocolate chip ice cream cone shared between the both of you.

But Ron’s love for his life dwindled the second he stepped foot inside his house -- where he was forced to occupy space with his resentful excuse of a wife, a woman who would never miss a beat to berate him for every choice he’d ever made in his life.

With your older brother gone, the squabbles between Ron and Maureen got worse.

Rick had been able to placate his father and put himself in the line of Maureen’s fire, taking her verbal hits so his father didn’t have to. You, being only ten when Rick had left, didn’t have much ground to stand on with your parents arguing, and trying to step in as Rick had would usually only make things escalate.

Ron fantasized about leaving, starting over anew. The immediate and resounding “no” that his subconscious always answered himself with, thinking of the kids, dwindled down over time, until all of his fantasizing led him to making actual plans of departure.

Last year, right before summer break was set to start, Ron finally left.

Having taken PTO from the campus, he’d waited that morning for Maureen to leave for work and for you to be on the bus to school. Alone, he took the time to pack all of his belongings, leaving only a few things behind, all with you in mind -- things to remind you of him in his absence. He’d intended on coming back for you as soon as possible, wanting to settle in somewhere before dragging his daughter into his uprooted life.

But it was over a year now that Ron had been gone, and you could count on one hand the amount of times he’d reached out to you.

You could count them on two fingers, actually.

The first time was the night after he’d left, when he’d tried explaining to you his reasoning, which you weren’t at all interested in hearing. You were beside yourself that he’d left you, just like Rick had, except Rick was your brother and that was normal, but Ron was your daddy and he was supposed to always be there.

Your mother, in anger that Ron would attempt to talk to you and not her, had disconnected the call, and while you waited by the phone all night for him to call back, he never did.

The second and last time he reached out was a few months ago, via letter for your 18th birthday. It was postmarked with an address in Fort Worth, Texas. When you’d tried writing back, you'd found the letter you'd sent in your mailbox a week later, marked Return to Sender.

It was mid-November now, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

At least Rick had kept in touch after he’d left.

He’d sent you care packages every month since arriving to Indiana in '81. They were full of sci-fi and horror books he’d found at the local Goodwill or Salvation Army, newspaper clippings for outlandish Classified segments, scribbled notes on stained notebook paper detailing concerts he’d gone to and new bands he thought you should check out.

Remembering this, you softened quickly after accusing Rick of abandoning, your biting comment causing guilt to swirl in your stomach.

Rick had his reasons to leave, you understood that. He was allowed to live his life. And even though he’d done just that, left and lived his life, he still always managed to keep tabs on you. The two of you hadn’t gone more than a few weeks without letters sent or parcels mailed back and forth since he’d first left home.

Never there, but never gone. Not really.

That was more than you could say for your father.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” you admitted, even though the hurt words you spoke did hold some kernel of truth. “It’s just… I don’t wanna have to start all over somewhere else.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Rick promised, choosing to let the accusation of his abandonment slide. He was sure you'd both get into it more later, considering it was a conversation that was long overdue. “The house is too big for just me anyway, and you know I’m fuckin’ shit at decorating. I’ve basically just been using beer cans for bookends and stuff like that – you could make it look way cozier.”

You laughed, sure your brother wasn’t exaggerating.

Rick was about as anti-capitalist as you could get, and that included being a minimalist when it came to possessions. Give the man a hand-me-down couch, a little TV, some weed, his cassettes, and a subscription to Playboy, and he’d be content for the rest of his life.

You were the opposite.

You loved things.

You had many different collections you’d amassed over the years -- your vast assortment of books had spilled from the two bookshelves in your room to several stacks littered throughout the house, much to your mother's annoyance; your vinyls were shoved into four big storage bins stacked under your octagonal bedroom window, which you draped a blanket over and used as a makeshift window seat nook; your cliques of creepy looking dolls you’d collected from estate sales and antique shops crowded your bed, your vanity, the storage shelf in your closet; the bug assemblages you’d been adding to since your childhood had their own corner of your room, little homes full of ladybugs, ants, and deathwatch beetles.

The idea that you could expand your knack for interior embellishing (hoarding, really) further than the confines of one room was one thing that made you start to consider taking Rick’s offer seriously.

That, and the realization that finally getting the fuck out of Fresno might not be such a bad idea.

Because what did you have there anymore, anyway? Shit grades? A handful of mean exes? A dead-end job?

Was any of that worth staying for?

You thought of your dad trying to reach out to you via telephone, imagined your mother answering and telling him you’d moved away and no longer lived there.

If it were only a few months since Ron had left, you didn’t think you would have gone with Rick back to Hawkins. You would have stayed just for the mere possibility that your dad would show up on the doorstep one day, begging for your forgiveness for leaving you alone with your coldhearted mother.

However, it was over a year now that he’d been gone. One year, four months, and fifteen days... if anyone was counting.

You’d never verbally admit it, but you still were.

There was a page hidden in the back of your diary where you kept track.

Your hopefulness was starting to make you sick.

Maybe a change wouldn’t be so bad.

Going back to Hawkins with Rick sure beat being forced to attend an all girls’ reformatory school, one with a reputation that claimed the headmaster performed shock therapy on students in lieu of giving them detentions.

You were sure that was just a rumor, but still. You didn’t want to take any chances.

“Bean, let me be there for you,” Rick said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his fingers. You noted his nails were painted a lime green. “It’ll be just like when we were kids, except now you’re older and actually cool so I won’t be embarrassed to introduce you to all my friends.” Dipping his head to the side, he wiggled his pierced brows, a grin toying on his lips as he added, “And we can smoke weed in the house.”

Pretending as if that alone was what sealed the deal, you stood swiftly. “Say less. You really should’ve started with that, Richard.” You headed off in the direction of the stairs that led up to your room, glancing over your shoulder at your brother who was staring off after you with a relieved countenance on his face. “Gimme an hour and then we can go?”

Rick answered with two thumbs up before grabbing a slice of pizza, shoving as much as he could of it into his mouth as you disappeared up the spiral staircase.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy x reader #billy x you #mungrove x reader #mungrove #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 months

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WIP tag game

Thank you to my darling @oyprongs for the tag!

1. List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

2. An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

3. Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

4. Then tag 10 writer friends!

Titles

1. Choose Your Own (sexy) Adventure

2. Wherefore Art Thou, James Potter?

3. The Viscount's Daughter

4. Everything but the Kitchen Sink

5. Oh god, maybe the wrestling fic idea I had, I can't get it out of my head and my brother's been excitedly trying to give me ideas for it

Upcoming Writing

1. Honestly, I'm just excited to get them talking again. I have one chapter left before they're back in touch and I can already feel the story starting to drag because they're not speaking, much as I loved writing their argument. Also the chaos chapter, which is where I throw caution to the wind in the most extreme way I can think of.

2. Supermarket. Bed-sharing. Christmas present.

3. I'm very excited to finish writing the twist ending to chapter four and the twist opening of chapter five. Two twists!

4. Following a period of antagonism there is an antagonism-shattering heart-to-heart on the chilly starlight beach that I've been going over in my head for a very long time.

5. If, if, IF I were to write this fic, and it's a HUGE if because I have too many WIPs, I think I'd be most excited about combining two of my huge passions in general and perhaps making wrestling more palatable for people who know nothing about it.

I'm pretty sure that most of the writers I know have already completed this so if there are any CT girlies who haven't yet been tagged and want to do this, PLEASE consider this your tag!

#tag game #writing #sarah's choose your own adventure fanfic #WATJP #The Viscount's Daughter #EBTKS

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onebedtorulethemall · 27 days

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Okay, as you know I just finished Bad Omens, and it was probably the funniest fic I've ever read. THANK YOU for writing this masterpiece.

I adore your sense of humour. Can I ask what inspires, feeds, or fuels it? Because if there is a movie, book, or show you can recommend with more of these vibes, I'm RUNNING to it. I need more of this humour in my life. pronto.

Wishing you well <3

Oh no. You've asked about my favorite topic, I fear. (For anyone else who wants a rambling response from me, feel free to drop the words "Bad Omens" in my ask box.)

Unfunnily, I came by my sense of humor the old-fashioned way—by being fairly ignored as a child. I had a whole comedic routine I'd launch into any time I thought an adult might be about to pay attention. This behavior generally results in either wildly famous adults or extremely annoying ones. I am lucky I have writing to channel it into because I lack basically all the skills to become any sort of performer.

Ok. Obviously, the humor in this fic was mainly inspired by Good Omens. I dissected the book before and during writing to try to get as close as possible to the feel of the original (limited, of course, by the fact that I'm not Neil or Terry). I looked at sentence structure, joke setup and payoff, how and when those narrative asides were used... I remember being amazed by how much of the humor relied on clever adverb usage. Mainly, though, it's the dramatic irony doing the heavy lifting. You swap a muggle for a witch (or the Antichrist for Baby B) and tell the reader you did it, and they're already doing half the work for you. They're ready to laugh. They're bought in. They're spinning up hilarious scenarios in their mind before I've even told the joke (I know this because my comments are full of them).

That's a very long way of saying: I love anything that says "we've set up this absurd scenario, now let's watch it unfold." (Although I don't like when it gets too stressful. That's why the Bad Omens narrator was there to hold your hand through it.)

What We Do in the Shadows is the absolute best for this. Plus classics like In Bruges and Hot Fuzz, both of which I've been casually trying to find a way to adapt into a Dramione for a year now. It's not really the same humor, but I have cried laughing at Veep.

Darker comedies: Fargo and my favorite, Barry. There's an episode in season 2 (ronny/lily) that veers straight off the cliff into surrealism. It's FANTASTIC, and I was absolutely thinking about it when writing the Bad Omens war date. I looooove that feeling of "what the actual fuck am I reading/watching right now?"

And on that note: The Locked Tomb series. Just, please go read it. Join the cult. It's kept me in a book hangover for about two years and I think the only way out is to pass it on to someone else, The Ring-style.

I'll cut myself off here. Thank you for the ask, and for reading and loving my silly little fic. I am first and foremost its #1 fan, and it's just fun to get to talk about it.

(stealth edit because omgggg I can't believe I forgot O Brother, Where Art Thou? Comedic PERFECTION. Couldn't be a Dramione. Snakes buddy comedy, maybe?)

#you asked #i rambled #someone go read gideon the ninth so i can have my brain back #and I forgot to add Discworld #can't get closer to Pratchetty humor than from the man himself

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monstroso · 3 months

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got pinged by @siderods for an ask game, thanks for the tag!

gonna keep it short for yall tonight

nine things / nine people (nine doors?)

Last Song: I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow. DJ and I were going to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou? but she keeps blowing me off so i have to listen to the soundtrack at work by myself. sad!

Favorite Color: to wear? black. in general? green.

Last Movie/TV Show: last thing I watched was VH1's 2008 documentary series on the sexual revolution. It was pretty interesting as a cultural artifact, a great snapshot in time and pretty informative too! it's called Sex: The Revolution, check it out if you can find it!

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Savory most of the time, but I am a slut for all three.

Last Thing I Googled: "changes on tumblr" needed to see if the activity feed eating reblog notifs was on their to-fix list. it was not!

Current Obsession: ugh. The USS Guadalcanal CVE-60. don't look at me, i like boats now.

Last Book: Illinois Railway Museum In Color by Aaron Isaacs, a photohistory of my local railway museum.

Last Fic: A Patient's Guide To Living With ICS (House MD fic). I'm gonna be honest I only clicked on this one because it's set in Chicago. The dialogue was really good though, and the smut wasn't bad either!

Looking Forward To: getting my fuuuuucking car fixed tomorrow. oh and my friend @calliclassic is working on a commission for me that's almost done!

i tag: @the-commonplace-book @galushanationalrailways @stukagoggles @theskoomacat aaaand anyone else who wants to do this i feel shy about tagging anyone else lol

#tag game

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moorishflower · 1 year

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Was tagged by @landwriter <3 (It is starting to get WARM and DAMP where I am which means I am being besieged by giant snails once more, the curse of the WC)

Rules: Tag 10 (or less) people you want to get to know better

relationship status: Single and just trying to make it through the day tbh

favourite colour: Lime green! Hot pink! Sun yellow! I used to only wear black and grey and now I love neons and pastels. Making up for lost time.

song stuck in my head: Man of Constant Sorrow from O Brother, Where Art Thou? Single greatest version of The Odyssey ever created.

three favourite foods: Grilling cheese like halloumi! Scalloped potatoes and cheese! Dried dates!

last song I listened to: Also Hozier's "Through Me (The Flood). There's gonna be a lot of us who've most recently listened to either Hozier or FOB this week l o l

dream trip: Oh gosh oh man. There's...a lot of places I'd go? If I could? Berlin, for the nightclubs. Vietnam for the food markets. Finland for the heavy metal! I don't know if I could choose just one? Though I think the one I'd start with would probably be Scotland, to see the heather on the moors.

last thing(s) i googled: "Killala of the Glow" which tells you that I was writing my fic but the most recent unrelated thing that I googled was the Twelve Wired Bird of Paradise, because...because look at it

this isn't a real bird, this is a puppet with all its strings cut asdgs

as for tagging ahhhh @avelera @fishfingersandscarves @xx-vergil-xx @cuubism @beatnikfreakiswriting @tobrokenstone and anyone else that is interested I wanna know EVERYONE <3<3<3

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cowboydisaster · 8 months

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Hi sorry if you’re not Arthur Morgan focused rn but I thought it’d be a really cute idea if Star was singing “go to sleep you little baby” (you shoulf listen to the O’ brother Where art thou version) while bathing herself in the lake and Arthur walked in on her doing this after being lulled in by Stars singing and he gets so flustered and excited by it

Sorry to bother you I love your fics ♥️

UMMM NONNY!!! THIS IS THE CUTEST IDEA EVER. OH MY GOD.

oh, imagine him getting back from a job, and Star isn't in his tent or hers, so with his brows furrowed, he goes looking for her. Everyone's mostly asleep, and he's growing worried until he hears a soft humming coming from the lake. He walks quietly towards her, watching as she scrubs her hair in the moonlit lake, singing peacefully to herself. God-- how his heart would swell. He'd be filled with so much love, maybe she'd even remind him of his mother. Someone good. Someone worth fighting for.

I love the idea of her singing "Go to sleep, you little baby." I've just had a listen to the version you suggested. maybe it's a song from her childhood, and Arthur recognizes it, kind of like Star singing "all the pretty horses" in chapter.. (2, or 3, I think?)

Arthur might join her in the lake, or he might go back to his tent and wait for her, but I think either way, Arthur would ask for her to sing to him again. It might become a comfort, hearing her voice as he falls asleep.

I think where we're at in the series, he's just beginning to think about getting her out of the gang. He's tiptoeing around and toying with the thought of leaving with her. for her.

A moment like this, Star singing in the lake, would really start to solidify that decision. He knows she's good. too good. she deserves better than the gang, and he wants to spend the rest of his life trying to give her what she deserves.

ahhhhhhhhb! sorry. anyway, I love you nonny. this is brilliant. I'm definitely adding something like this into the next chapter.

#tfiye #arthur morgan #anon asks #bea answers #please send as many tfiye asks as you want #i love them #or any asks #i like when yall talk to me and share your ideas #youre all brilliant

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jamiesfootball · 8 months

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List seven comfort films and tag seven people

tagged by @beckstraordinary

Pacific Rim

Oh Brother Where Art Thou

Nope

Hot Fuzz

What We Do In the Shadows

Inception

The Hobbit trilogy

@izzyspussy @jamietarttdodododododo @asteria-argo @fallenangelontheceiling @angels-fics @sighonaraa @abubblingcandle

#tag game #feel free to skip if you're not feeling it

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mlobsters · 11 months

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supernatural s5e21 two minutes to midnight (w. sera gamble)

what is this, nickelodeon? neon green slime, come on.

DEAN You can't do this.

SAM That's the consensus.

DEAN All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion.

what a way to deflect. "that's the consensus"

CASTIEL You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.

good talk, bro

DR. GREEN You mean my brothers. What they did to my brothers. No. The only reasonable thing to do here is to...take it out of their healthy young asses.

i... what lol

both sam and dean's hair looks weird. dean's too dark, sam's is... sitting funny and looking different. maybe just funky lighting

PESTILENCE So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy... and weak. It's ridiculous.

i mean, i don't think god is pouring anything at the moment

SAM Did you kiss him?

DEAN Sam!

SAM Just wondering.

cute. totally could have dropped it there. but i guess they hadn't made something awkward and embarrassing in a while, quota to fill

CROWLEY You kill demons. Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it.

things you thought were just fanon. crowley's got a bit of a complex

SAM You, Bobby, Cas ... I'm the least of any of you.

DEAN Oh, Sam.

SAM No, it's true. It is. But ... I'm also all we got.

just the frank and earnest belief that he's not good. oof.

CROWLEY You two are lucky you have your looks. Your demon lover, Brady?

just read a fic like that lol

this interlude introducing big d death, really featuring the song. they haven't used much of the classic rock persuasion this season. some interesting tidbits about the o, death song

(wiki)

CW senior VP and creative executive Chris Donovan, decided that using the old spiritual "O Death" (heard in "Brother Where Art Thou") fit well with the themes of Season 5. He contacted Jennifer Titus, a well-known name around the CW, about singing the song. She recorded a preview of the song on her iPhone and sent it to him.

Donovan was extremely impressed, and upon a slight re-write of the lyrics to fit the show better, Titus came into the studio and recorded the official version. CW Staff members recorded the humming heard in the song, and Leonard Richardson, the executive in charge of music on the CW, mixed the track. Source.

i'm not surprised but also side eye at crowley "fixing" bobby

DEAN God? You'll reap God?

DEATH Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean.

DEAN Well, this is way above my pay grade.

DEATH Just a bit.

liked this conversation and turn of events

the umbrella academy s3 julian richings as chet rodo

DEAN What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?

BOBBY Nothing good.

DEAN Yeah.

BOBBY What'd you say?

DEAN That I was cool with Sam driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan.

so i hate to say it, but man sometimes i think they're asking jim beaver more than he can deliver with bobby. like he was so clearly trying to have some sort of revelation in the warehouse when sam was evacuating the humans, but it was so. over the top. and still not really clear was his deal was. it was strange. but things often feel sort of forced with him and this character, to me.

BOBBY So I got to ask, Dean. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?

he only went to hell already to save sam, what kind of question is that bobby :p i know this was just for the show's sake and i hate to bring reality into it but anyone is gonna be freaked out about their sibling killing themselves even if it's for the greater good.

sidenote i also appreciate that the captions on netflix use Cass for cas, because that is totally how they pronounce it and along with my pronunciation surprises over castiel and alastair i also was not expecting cas to be said like that. cas would with regular english rules be ending in a more z sound! don't be afraid of the more feminine spelling lol

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 5x21 #hiky #spnhiky #julian richings #the umbrella academy #sera gamble

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practically-an-x-man · 1 year

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Prometheus x Corinthian Playlist Analysis (Part Three)

This might end up getting long (or longer), but I'm going to try and get this analysis wrapped up in this part, so we'll see how it turns out. Here we go!

Heart's on Fire - Passenger

Notable lyrics:

Well, I don't have many and I don't have much/ In fact, I don't have any but I got enough/ 'Cause I know those eyes and I know that touch - That last line... let's just say we're starting off strong here.

And then there's the repeated refrain of "oh darlin', my heart's on fire" which to me makes this song feel a bit like a call-and-response. It seems to me like the verses are from Prometheus' perspective, and the chorus is the Corinthian.

(also, this is completely random but the chorus of this song always makes me think of the river-baptism scene in Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?. It's in the same key and and everything)

The Light Behind Your Eyes - My Chemical Romance

More angst for you >:)

Notable lyrics:

Never let them take the light behind your eyes/ One day, I'll lose this fight/ As we fade in the dark/ Just remember you will always burn as bright - Corruption ending my beloved...

We'll say goodbye today/ And I'm sorry how it ends this way - More of the Corruption ending here...

Sometimes, we must grow stronger/ And you can't be stronger when I'm gone/ When I'm here, no longer/ You must be stronger - I read this line as Prometheus's perspective in reference to the Corinthian, and the way Prometheus' return to the darkness leads to his own slip back into it (and eventually would segue into the canon Sandman timeline)

Cradles - Sub Urban

Notable lyrics:

I live inside my own world of make-believe/ Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities - This would reference their status as dreams, particularly as nightmares, living in the "world of make-believe" that is the Dreaming

I love everything/ Fire's spreading all around my room/ My world's so bright - More fire symbolism to represent Prometheus, of course

Hear the children sing aloud/ It's music 'til the wick burns out/ Hush - Prometheus comforts the children from their nightmares, but there's no comfort once they lose their spark - once the "wick burns out"

Falling Away With You - Muse

This could be a bit more angst from the Corruption ending, I think. Let's check it out.

Notable lyrics:

Staying awake to chase a dream/ Tasting the air you're breathing in/ I hope I won't forgot a thing - The Corinthian's quite literally "chasing a dream" - Prometheus - but in the case of the Corruption ending, eventually all he'll have of them is memories

And I'll feel my world crumbling down/ Feel my life crumbling now/ Feel my soul crumbling away/ And falling away/ Falling away with you - Back to the Corruption ending, particularly the Corinthian's reaction when he realizes Prometheus has been sent back into the dark - that he's lost them

Stay - As Everything Unfolds - This is another one where there's not as much overt symbolism in the lyrics (which probably means I should've put it in the first part but eh, I'm lazy. I just really like this song, and there's a lot of intense emotion in it that I feel is reflected in the fic.

Every Night - Paul McCartney - again, less directly relating to the lyrics, just the idea that they meet up every night and develop a connection

Calypso - Suzanne Vega - the lyrics are a little tough to analyze for this one, given it's in first-person perspective AND deals with an entirely different Greek myth than the one I based my character on. However, the idea of Calypso (representing Prometheus) reaching out for a struggling traveler and helping him up to his feet was enough of a connection in my eyes, and onto the playlist it goes.

All Eyes - Imagine Dragons

First of all: eyes. Enough said. But aside from that,

Notable lyrics:

Where the people are awake, to chase a dream that isn't real/ And we pose to be something that we're not - Oh boy, so much here. The reference to dreams, and then the "posing to be something we're not", the in-between stage between full-dream and full-nightmare, the initial gathering of that spark...

Now, will the sun come up tonight?/ Because your eyes, they burn so bright/ I'm all you've got when you say that you want it all - Now the "sun" obviously would reference Prometheus, but as far as the "burning eyes"... I'll leave that up to you to decide. It is the Corinthian speaking to Prometheus? Is it the reverse, particularly in the Redemption ending? Who knows?

Burn Out - Imagine Dragons

Notable lyrics:

It's just another downpour, don't let it get the best of you/ It's only up from the floor, light everything inside of you/ Don't burn out, don't burn out on me - To me, this is the Corruption ending - "Find the light."

(and no, I did not think about how similar that is to "Beware the light" from Logan when I wrote it... whoops. My favorite fandom snuck up on me, actor and all...)

Icarus - Bastille

Notable lyrics:

Your hands protect the flames/ From the wild winds around you - This is Prometheus, of course, protecting the light and the dreamers from the "wild winds" of the surrounding nightmares

You put up your defenses when you leave/ You leave because you're certain/ Of who you want to be - I love this line in particular because it really could be both the Corruption ending or the Redemption ending - either leaving the Dreaming itself and choosing "who you want to be" in that darker sense, or leaving the act of being a nightmare and choosing to be a dream instead.

Two more songs! Almost done!

My Selene - Sonata Arctica

This is another song where it feels like just about every single lyric could link back to this story, and I'd absolutely recommend it! This almost reads as a personification of the story itself, but here's the thing - I'd never heard of this song when I wrote it, I only listened to it for the first time today!

Notable lyrics:

But until we unite/ I live for that night/ Wait for time/ Two souls entwine/ In the break of new dawn - Much like Every Night and a few of the other songs, this line mainly relates to the development of their relationship as they meet every night

Shadows they will fade/ But I'm always in the shade/ Without you... - And we're back to the Corruption ending, I suppose. There's also a line later on that reads "I'm still alone in the dead of night" that calls back to this one.

Hidden from daylight I'm sealed in my cave/ Trapped in a dream that is slowly turning to nightmare/ Where I'm all alone - LOOK AT THIS! Just look at it! I don't think there's a single more fitting line in this entire analysis, because this is just the entire fic right here! Or at least the Corruption ending of it!

Venial is life when you're but a dream/ The book is still open the pages as empty as me - This line is a little less about the fic itself, but the books In Lucienne's library do go blank when Morpheus is captured, so it still links to Sandman. And of course, the personification of a dream, which is the chief note of the story

This is my final call/ My evenfall/ Drowning into time/ I become the night/ By the light of new day/ I'll fade away - This would be Prometheus' descent back into the darkness, right at the start of the Corruption ending

Leave the City - Twenty One Pilots

I could put just about every lyric of this song into this analysis, which means it's really a perfect one to end on. And so rather than typing out all of the lyrics for you, I'd recommend that you listen to the song, look up the lyrics yourself, soak up the harmonies, and think about the themes of the story as you listen. Perhaps think of the Corruption ending as you listen, or perhaps think of the Redemption ending. It's a bittersweet and uncertain song, perfect for a story with two endings. And this is where I'll leave you.

And that concludes this playlist and its analysis! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you'll consider either taking a listen or reading the fic itself (or, if you're feeling generous, maybe both?). Have a wonderful day, friends!

(Part One) (Part Two)

#prometheus playlist analysis #character playlist #prometheus part three #Spotify #fandom #fanfic #fanfic author #the sandman netflix

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marsconer · 2 months

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the very long draft of the atla prequel fic i’ll never write

- title idea: oh, brother were art thou ?

- focuses on : iroh and ozai’s dynamic from childhood to the day he marries ursa. includes extras and dives into the fire nation royal family dynamic but it’s mostly about those two.

- inspirations: cain and abel’s story, the ballad of songbirds and snakes.

- characters included: iroh, ozai, azulon, the firelady ilah, ursa, iroh’s wife, ozai’s mistress. ( they will be named )

- characterizations :

iroh — sometimes we forget that iroh was the general. the warrior. the brother most familiar with blood and violent. iroh’s characterization should not shy away from that but also keep a core of goodness and questioning. he’s the one who should have a more reflexive internal monologue. it should be a growing difference between what he believes is right and what he actually does to the point where it breaks. the breaking point will not be part of the fic but it should be seeds planted yk? inspirations : regulus black, jaime lannister / faceclaim ideas : remy hii

ozai — the make or break character and the easiest to screw up ( i think ), too evil and the heart of the story is gone and iroh just looks stupid for loving his evil brother, not evil enough and it’s not ozai. his arc is not a corruption arc but the story of a man realizing he can get away with any atrocious act he decides to commit, his internal monologue lacks the reflexive nature of iroh’s, ozai never pounders on the right and wrong of an act only on how that could benefit him. as the brother who stayed home, ozai’s battle is mostly weeding out plots and schemes, of court drama and seizing power. inspirations: coriolanus snow, tom riddle, fc ideas: sebastian amoruso ( i know he played jet stfu ), dylan wang

firelord azulon — an absent father, i don’t care how his reign was, he is the definition of trying to rule with only force and falling ( being disliked by both high rankings and the people ), hard power ! he’s more of representation of a fire nation that looks down on weakness ( non-benders, women, children ) inspiration: tywin lannister

firelady ilah — a cruel mother who loves power but can possess none because she’s a woman so she tries to teach her sons her form of strength, manipulations, secrets, blackmail, iroh had more aptitude but he was azulon’s general so she had to make do with ozai ( who refuses to learn but will eventually ), she’s the bitterness of a fascist woman in a fascist man’s world. she’s frustrated in all ways possible and that bitterness turns to wickedness. inspirations: alicent hightower if she was like her haters think she is, morgana, walburga black. fc ideas: michelle yeoh

lady ursa — poor lady ursa, i haven’t read to comics and i don’t buy they are cannon so here’s my characterization of the pookiest of pookies. lady ursa was the daughter of important people, think courtiers, who never really wanted a child, ursa was also raised in palace along with many other high borns. she was also younger than ozai and a talented herbalist. she wanted to marry him and do her duty, he was good looking and a prince and she was barely sixteen. and she wanted out of her parent’s grasp. probably one of the most unlucky people in the story. at first ignored and humiliated before their marriage and after abused and controlled. inspirations: katherine howard / fc claim ideas : ashley liao, lola tung

aliya ( ozai’s mistress ) — this is a very self indulgent character bc i like parallels and the hope that some air nomads survived in secret and had children. aliya is this concept with the addition that she’s a performer on ember island who would really like a bridge to her ancestor’s culture and past but also probably is acutely aware of how she’s not the airbender she should be. she’s a dancer, she’s an acrobat, she’s artist, she’s vain and attached to material desires and smarter than she looks but also still just a girl trying to keep herself alive and her secrets secret. ( yes, ozai lowkey kinda kills her or at least thinks he and erased her and her family from history. snowbaird coded but also worse ) inspirations: lucy gray baird, satine / fc claim ideas : simone ashley

saori ( iroh’s wife ) — very minor character but all that can be said is that she’s no easy woman. she’s demanding of him after they are arranged together because she believes and sees that he can be better. she also grew up in the palace as a courtier and is known for being incredibly opinionated and sharp on her wit. inspirations: beatrice ( much ado about nothing ) / fc claim : jamie chung

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impmakesart · 4 years

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I am a man of constant sorrow, I've seen trouble all my day.

Art for @darcydelaney‘s fic TROUBLE ALL MY DAYS, for this year’s DeanCas Big Bang! (@deancasbigbang)

Link to Fic: [x]

Loosely based on “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?”, this fic is simply great! I loved reading it, loved making art for it, and I am sure you will love it too.

#deancas big bang 2020 #destiel #deancas #oh brother where art thou #supernatural #spn #destiel art #destiel fic

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takkotuuesdays · 2 years

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That introvert/autistic/adhd/terminally-online/whatever-tf-diagnosis feeling of imagining something really funny but not being able to tell anyone about it because it's built on such a fragile Jenga tower of hyperfixations and daydreams that you would sound like an absolute lunatic even attempting to explain it to someone else so you have to just sit there stewing in your own glee like

#specifically i am talking about a pitch perfect/oh brother where art thou crossover fic #that i am never going to write and no one would want to read

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teddy06writes · 2 years

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Friday Night Fun, Monday Meetings

requested by this anon: "Dps fic idea: Chris drags her best friend to a party, Knox drags Todd to the same party. MC and Todd both get drunk and make out. Then they recognize each other on the Monday after.- <3"

Todd Anderson x reader

Trigger warnings: Some swearing, drinking/drunkenness,

premise: It took a lot of work for Knox to convince Todd to go with him to Chet Danbury's party, and even more work for Chris to convince you to come; all down the drain as soon as you were both ditched, but hey, maybe something could still turn out.

{It's like, implied that your at the same school as the poets/like an au where everyone goes to Welton}

It was loud, and people crowded around in the Danbury's house, talking and drinking. Chris had spent all week begging you to go with her to this party, but now almost as soon as you had stepped in the door, she disappeared, calling out to someone in the crowd you didn't recognize.

Still, a drink found its way into your hand, and you set yourself to making the most of it.

Todd had never particularly enjoyed parties, but when Knox had insisted on taking him with as a thank you for proof reading his poem to chris, he couldn't find a way, or an excuse to say no.

So, he found himself standing around awkwardly, several drinks in, and bored out of his mind.

You coming up to him had been just about a miracle, and words were coming out of his mouth before he even realized, "I'm Todd An-"

"Can you-"

You both stopped, laughing, until he managed to nod, "Uh, you first."

"oh- uh, can you move out of the way- your standing in front of the drinks."

"Oh-" He quickly shuffled to the side, blushing heavily, "Sorry..."

You smiled, moving past him, "It's alright."

He stared down at his cup, trying to think of anything to say, but you beat him to it as you refilled your cup, "So, you drinking alone?"

"Kinda..." He chuckled, "My friend uh, ditch me."

You nodded, "Yeah me too. Drink alone together?"

He grinned, tapping his cup against where you had lifted yours, "Sure."

Somehow, you found yourself sitting with the boy you had found on the stairs, talking and joking, both of you drinking yourself a little deeper as the night went on.

"So then I had to look him in the eye and tell him that his poem was good!" He laughed.

"And he believed you?" You asked incredulous.

He nodded hurriedly, "And he read it to her in one of her classes! Just walked straight in, and up to her desk and started reading it!"

You laughed, hand coming up to cover your mouth, "no way! You know my friend Chris had something like that happen to her once!"

"Really? That's wild!"

"She thought it was romantic- I guess she's lucky she got a good poem read to her."

"Well, Knox doesn't right bad poems- their just..." He trailed off, thinking for a moment, "Well they certainly aren't Shelly- or Byron- or even Whitman!"

"You into poetry?"

Todd nodded, and then doing his best to exude Charlie's confidence, leaned in toward you a little closer, "Shall I compare thee to summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

You giggled, quickly racking your brain, "That was pretty smooth, maybe you should teach your friend to level up his game."

"Oh no- I could've never done that sober." He chuckled.

You hummed, taking a sip of your drink, "Fair enough."

He sighed, taking a deep breath, "See the mountains kiss high heaven and the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven if it disdained its brother; and sunlight clasps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the see; what is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?"

Your eyes darted down to his lips, and then quickly back up to meet his, before you were bridging the gap between you, pressing yours to his.

It took hardly a moment for him to kiss you back, one of his hands finding its way to your waist, as you cupped his cheek with your own. Almost unconsciously, he pulled you closer as one of your hands drifted into his hair.

By the time that Chris found you sometime later, you were practically in his lap, almost as rowdy as the couples you had earlier been making fun of.

"We have to go! (y/n)!" Chris yelled, grabbing your shoulder.

You pulled away from Todd, taking a moment to breath before saying, "I'm in the middle of something."

"(y/n) we have to go, my mom's gonna kill me if we get back after midnight!"

Half an hour later, Knox had found Todd sitting alone on the stairs, staring at the partial phone number you scrawled across his hand before Chris had dragged you away.

After a weekend spent at Chris's, nursing a hangover, you had managed to drag yourself back to school. By now, your whole friend group had heard about the party, and everyone was speculating about who the mystery boy you had made out with was.

The Poets, were chattering with the same speculations, all though in the opposite direction. Meeks and Neil had even spent a solid two hours of their weekend into trying to figure out every possible combination that your phone number could've ended in.

Todd had been halfway through walking across the courtyard to the lunch room with the poets, when someone caught his eye. He turned, locking eyes with you from where you sat with your friends.

Knox frowned, noticing how his face turned bright red, "Wait! Is that them?"

"Yeah." He whispered, quickly turning away from you.

Charlie laughed loudly, "Well go talk to them you dolt!" And sent him off in your direction with a light shove.

You got up, meeting him halfway, "Hi..."

"Hey..." He took a deep breath, "Do you maybe wanna go get lunch with me?"

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #todd anderson #todd anderson x reader #todd x reader #teddy06 #teddy06 writes #teddy 06 #teddy06writes

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