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#the fest
autumnrevisited · 6 months
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Thursday performing at The Fest in Gainesville, Florida. 10.29.23
Photos by Hannah Howells
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hi-eichlers · 1 year
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how we feeling about TMZ 🗣 & HELL 🔥❓❓❓
📸 by Rae Mystic
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keymintt · 8 months
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a comic/zine about coyotes
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woosh-floosh-art · 13 days
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What post Side Order does to you
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jorenilee · 4 months
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frye fans do not hang your head..... for we are frye FAMILY
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pcktknife · 5 months
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freezy fest
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hjartasalt · 7 months
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"he's so zesty" girl just say faggot if you're gonna be homophobic I wanna hear you say it with your chest
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justleaveacommentfest · 11 months
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WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYY
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zoe-oneesama · 6 months
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If you haven't been keeping up with the Dad Villain/Viceroy AU by @bigfatbreak then you are asleep at the wheel because it is everything U_U. Someday I'll draw Tom/Viceroy, he's just so haaaaard! (Chloe over here trying to just get on with her dead mom jokes but Kim just won't let That Day go and she's about to have to make it a double body count just so he SHUTS UP-!)
Ko-fi | Patreon
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stachitze · 5 months
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frosty fest!!
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robthegoodfellow · 4 months
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Comment Bingo Trial Run
Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by completing the task in each square
Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING
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STEPS:
Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)
Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; NO double-dipping; kudos ♥️ is a free space)
REBLOG/POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.
PROPOSED REWARD:
Bingo Badge!
@ihni and I thought it'd be fun to receive something commemorating a win (who gets bingo first isn't the point—ALL BINGOS are wins), in which case, there could be different tiers of achievement:
Bingo Badge (one line filled)
Double Bingo Badge (two lines filled)
ELITE Bingo Badge?? (ALL squares filled—for the ambitious, or at least for @ihni who will prob eat this card for breakfast)
I can make a badge with my limited Canva skills, but we thought it'd be cool if fandom artists came up with different designs? So if any artists wanna contribute, let me know.
If enough people are into this, I'm open to planning a more organized event, but figured this would be fun to try out for now.
no pressure, just tagging anyone who seemed interested: @sanguine-tenshi, @adelacreations, @redfeathered, @heartbreak-sandwich, @magniloquent-raven, @sepulchralsmile, @inquisitiveadventuress, @mrprettywhenhecries, @1jet2unknown, @iravenish, @six-demon-bag, @billyharringson, @suometar, @tciddaemina, @phoenix-burns-wildly, @lafey, @doctor-of-war-and-heartache, @supercomplicatedperson, @g-arya, @hesitantsorrows, @soap-lady, @fan-written, @we-want-mini-mini, @komatsuna-yuki, @calico-kiwi, @pinkittwice, @puppylove24680, @starcourtjesus
P.S. To facilitate unhinged liveblog comments, install the AO3 Floating Comment Box!
if you have any questions/concerns/suggestions, let me know! 💛
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bennysubreddy · 3 months
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I MADE A RLLY DUMB POST ON TIKTOK ABOUT FRANK IERO TWINK DEATH / DILF BIRTH AND RIOT FEST COMMENTED
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WHAT DO U MEAN UR SENDING THIS TO HIM ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️
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anarchywoofwoof · 7 months
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Godspeed You! Black Emperor Riot Fest Chicago 2023 9/16/2023
"Transphobes eat shit and die alone"
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tartppola · 9 days
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the cutest family!!!!!!!
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tidiestpegasus · 5 months
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saw the new frosty fest outfits and my brain at some point went "something something tuxedo manta" and i just had to do this
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lovebugism · 9 months
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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her
thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.
She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.
So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.
Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 
Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 
J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.
It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.
“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.
He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 
His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 
“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.
Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”
“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.
“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”
Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.
A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.
His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”
Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.
This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 
You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.
“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.
Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”
“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”
“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”
Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”
“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”
You swallow thickly, then nod.
Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.
“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”
“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.
You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.
“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.
He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 
The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.
And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.
Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.
“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”
Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 
He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.
“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”
Eddie glares at the boy.
He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”
—————
He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 
He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 
Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 
He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.
He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.
Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.
And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.
“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 
“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”
He grimaces. “Sorry…”
“’S okay,” you repeat.
“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”
Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”
“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”
“Okay…?” 
“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”
“Using me?” you echo.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”
Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.
“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.
“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”
“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 
“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”
He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 
You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 
“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”
“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.
“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”
“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.
You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”
Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.
“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”
“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.
You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”
Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 
And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?
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