#high school theatre problems

[moonthemagical]

An actor wanted to change a character's pronouns? (ah, high school theatre)

After about a month of starting this play, one of the actors decided they wanted to change their character from non binary (they/them pronouns) to a cis boy (he/him pronouns) for some reason.

The actor's reasoning was because "I just think it would work better." and "well the character talks about going to the bathroom so..." (as if that changes anything?)

In the original play, that character did in fact have he/him pronouns but the Assistant Director decided they wanted to change a few of the characters' pronouns to be more diverse. So now all the other actors will need to practice new lines...

I mean I guess it makes sense as the actor's gender expression is more masculine but you're an ACTOR. Aren't you supposed to pretend to be a different person?

Well, this doesn't really effect me with sound or anything but I just wanted to share with you guys.

[somelazyassartist]

Sometimes I wish I didn't live in the middle of nowhere so I could work at like a big science museum and tell kids about space and dinosaurs and bugs and physics all day. But unfortunately that would require moving to a city which has not ever ever ever been pleasant for me

[mushroom-ooooooooooooooo]

Todays episode of what the hell is even competition season for Theatre we have: Izzy borderline yelled at people to shut the fuck up during rehearsals. They didn't actually yell, but they sure as hell wanted to.

[themoonking]

if carrie, one of the most well-known flops in broadway history, is able to get a well-received (off-broadway) revival after over two decades, then i believe there is still hope for rebecca, one of the most successful german musicals of all time, to get an english language production despite the scandal

[measuresderepo]

Will I watch the high school musical series or will I watch theatre camp for the sixth time? Decisions decisions.

[navysealt4t]

:( i miss my musical

[abnerkrill]

fantastic rebuttal to "writers don't deserve better pay because the stuff they write is terrible/unoriginal", full thread here

(to explain, the "Unknown" under his name is from a add-on bot detector; it usually can assign a percentage likelihood that a user is a human being and not a bot, but I think the blue check system disrupted the add-on so it says "Unknown" underneath his name now.)

[image id under the read more:

May 7, 2023 tweet thread from Tom Vaughan @/storyandplot

With #WGAStrong rightfully in the spotlight this week, I've seen some less-than-sympathetic comments focusing on the lack of originality in our projects. This is a fair criticism of the system, but not the writers. A quick history of how we got here (thread emoji)

The first thing to understand is that Hollywood has NOT run out of new ideas. The studio’s preference for I.P. has nothing to do with regurgitating ideas and everything to do with MARKETING.

The late 60s-70s is generally considered the artistic high of the studio system. Ironically, many contribute this to corporations buying up the studios! The corporations knew they had no idea how to run a movie studio, so... they put creative people in charge.

This is how you got the run of so many great films the studios would never make today. They also took bigger chances on young, promising talent (the first "film school generation" of filmmakers.)

But with the success of JAWS and STAR WARS, the corporations demanded more of those kinds of hits. The creative folks insisted such things were unpredictable, and the business folks said let's make them less so.

(Sidenote: This was also the same time a completely different phenomenon was happening. A/C was becoming the norm for theatres, making summer movie-going much more attractive.)

Over the next decade, more and more MBAs and marketing people gained influence in the studio system. Being business folks, huge hits were not a creative problem as much as a product/marketing problem.

The 80s is when the “high concept” became pre-eminent because it narrowed a sales pitch to one sentence, a trailer, and a poster. This made everyone a marketing agent for a movie because everyone could explain what it was about!

In the 90s, marketing became just as important as the film itself (reflected in their respective budgets) when Hollywood discovered they could profit from fifty years of pre-existing awareness for old TV shows and movies.

This allowed the marketing department to move away from pitching a movie and convincing you to go see it (lower success rate), to simple “audience awareness” and building anticipation. (higher success rate.)

The audience knew what THE FLINSTONES the movie was. They just needed to know the casting and when it opened. No one needed to have the remake of GODZILLA explained to them. They just needed to know when it opened.

The marketing department prefers AWARNESS over SELLING because awareness is something you can throw money at. Selling is harder, and it’s less predictable. This is why franchises are so valuable.

Whenever someone says, “That’s something I can sell!” It’s usually something that can sell itself. What they mean is, "I just have to let people know about this!"

Hollywoods's reliance on property the audience is already familiar with is 100% because... the audience is already familiar with it. It is easier to market the product and this increases its chances of success.

This focus on I.P. has become so pervasive, many, including executives themselves, have forgotten WHY it's valuable. They'll option an unknown comic BECAUSE it's I.P., forgetting that it's unknown and lacks the main asset of I.P.

Writers do love writing on an I.P. that means something to them. Every Star Wars fan who became a filmmaker would love to work in that universe. But we do not love it more than our own original work. We would always rather work on that.

So when you see another remake, or reboot, or adaptation, and think, "Can't they come up with something new?"

Remember, the answer is yes. Yes, we can. And we want to. You can blame the market or the marketing, but either way, the widespread production of truly original content is just not the studio business model we're in right now. #WGAStrong

end ID.]

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part two

PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus

❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞

‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.

What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.

“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”

“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.

“Okay, good.”

She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.

“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.

“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”

The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.

“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.

“Not to you I don’t.”

Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.

Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”

His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.

Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.

You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—

“Owwww, damn baby!”

And you recognized the voice right away.

Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.

Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.

“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”

“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.

“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”

“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.

“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”

Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.

“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.

“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.

“Tommy, just leave–”

“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.

“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.

“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.

“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.

“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”

And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.

You were done with Steve Harrington.

Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.

Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.

It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.

“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.

“Don’t call me a liar!”

“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”

“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.

He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.

“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”

“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.

“I’m not like that anymore.”

“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.

“Like I said, Princess–”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”

“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”

“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.

“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.

“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”

You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.

“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”

���Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”

And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.

“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.

I see you.

The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.

Resisting will only make it worse.

❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞

Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.

“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.

Not again.

“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”

Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.

“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.

With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.

With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?

He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.

Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.

“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.

The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”

“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.

“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”

Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.

You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.

The Upside Down.

“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.

Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.

You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.

It was

Him.

“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”

“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.

Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.

I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.

And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.

“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.

Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.

Of decay.

Of death.

Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.

“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.

I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.

“No, please!”

Tell them!

“No, I can’t–”

Tell them everything!

And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...

Hawkins in ruin.

Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.

Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.

Tell them!

Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.

Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.

Tell them!

Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–

“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.

You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.

“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.

“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.

Everyone knew.

Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.

“Vecna.”

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

never been (stage) kissed

Summary: After years of being a struggling actress in Los Angeles, you finally land your big break! The only problem is, you’ve been cast opposite your longtime celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz. What will you do when the director demands a kiss between the two of you?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, small amount of adult humor, kissing, fluff, thigh touching, in depth details of Hollywood movie shooting, anxious!reader, publicity tweets and comments, ruby being the sweetest girl EVER

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction. I’ve included a mass disclaimer of RPF guidelines here. Make SURE to click the link before reading, it’s extremely important for the safety of all Real People involved in this fiction.

———

You stared at the movie script in your hand, biting your lip to stop from squealing. After being in Los Angeles for the past five years, you had finally landed your big break.

You had known that you wanted to act ever since your mother signed you up to be a munchkin in a community theatre production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Of course, being a stubborn elementary schooler, you fought her on it, saying the songs were “stupid” and the costumes were “itchy.” But as soon as opening night came, and the lights hit your face, you put on a smile and celebrated the death of the Wicked Witch like it was something you’d been waiting for your entire life.

After the song's last note, deafening applause echoed around the theater, causing adrenaline to course through your veins. In that moment, you decided to spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling.

When you reached middle school, you joined their drama department, taking theatre as an elective class while occasionally participating in the school plays. Once high school rolled around, you began to take some of the more advanced classes, and even competed in a couple One-Act Play competitions. A lot of the people you started taking classes with eventually got bored and left to pursue other hobbies, but over the years you just fell more and more in love with acting, and became completely dedicated to your craft.

Instead of attending college, after you graduated high school you packed up whatever you needed and moved across the country to a small town about half an hour away from Los Angeles. The area was slightly sketchy, your apartment was small, and you had to work two jobs while sharing with four other roommates just to make rent.

Los Angeles kinda… sucked. But you had stars in your eyes and couldn’t be happier.

Unfortunately, you were kind of in for a rude awakening once audition season rolled around. Back in high school, you would book leads left and right. Now, it seemed like the only gigs you could book were background work, maybe a role in a rinky-dink student film if you were lucky. You always took what you could get, but you longed for something that could get your foot in the door.

One day, one of the short films you starred in entitled “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” got entered into some film festival, and not only did it win an award you couldn’t remember the name of, it ended up going viral on YouTube, and not in a bad way either. Your performance in that film was astounding.

Plus, not that this was the sole reason the film blew up, but as an actress in your early 20’s who tended to take care of herself, you were kind of… well… hot.

Suddenly, you were getting recognized in public, signed with an agency, and landing more notable roles. You were featured in a music video for an up-and-coming country artist, booked a commercial for a costume makeup company (in which you brought back your look from “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens”), and even starred in three episodes of a new series on HBO Max.

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, one day you were coming back from what was either your third or fourth audition of the day, when you got a call from your agent on the drive home. You groaned, almost certain she was calling to schedule another “last-minute” audition. Sure you appreciated how hard she worked to get you booked, but you were also so tired after a long day.

To your surprise, when you picked up the phone, she ecstatically announced that you had booked a huge role.

In a feature film.

Starring alongside your celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz.

You had to pull over on the side of a highway to keep from swerving out of excitement.

Ruby had been your celebrity crush since you saw her in the Disney+ series “Willow.” Her masculine ambience, her devil-may-care attitude, and the way she swung her sword had you absolutely drooling. Somehow, you finished the entire series in two days, and immediately ran to IMDB to add Every Single Thing she’s been in to your watch list.

Now, you stood in front of the building where your first read-through was supposed to take place, the script for “Aliens of Atlantis” resting in your shaking hands. You gulped as you pushed open the door, wondering how you were going to keep your cool around Ruby when the very thought of her practically sent you into cardiac arrest.

Walking into the reading room, you were met with several chairs arranged into a circle and sounds of chatter from the other actors. You recognized a few of them from some smaller projects, even recognizing one from a movie that had come out the previous year. Your eyes scanned the room for Ruby, heart beating out of your chest when they landed on the back of a choppy brunette bob.

When Ruby turned around, you swore her blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She caught you staring at her from across the room, and shot you a wide toothy smile before walking over to you.

“Hey,” she started. “You must be Zephyra.”

You blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Zephyra.” She repeated. “You’re playing the alien queen of Atlantis, right?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly and tilted her head, worried she may have gotten you mixed up with someone else.

Her words clicked in your head, finally. “Oh! Yes! I’m playing the role of Zephyra.”

Ruby’s smile returned as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. You still had trouble wrapping your mind around the fact that you were standing in front of the Ruby Cruz, and having a semi-successful conversation.

She stuck out her hand, offering a handshake. “Hi, I’m Ruby. I’m playing Calantha.”

You took her hand, electric shocks vibrating through your body at her touch. “Nice to meet you.”

After removing her hand (much to your displeasure), she turned to walk back over to her seat, but not before flashing you a smile over her shoulder. “Can’t wait to work with you!”

God, why did she have to be so cool?

The table read went fairly well, in your opinion. The movie was about Calantha, an underwater adventurer, finding the lost city of Atlantis during an expedition. Once there, she finds the city being ruled by aliens who’s spaceship crashed near the area about 100 years ago. Calantha finds Zephyra, the alien queen, who makes her promise to keep their secret, and in return, Calantha will help her run the city.

You were playing Zephyra, of course, since being in “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” proved you looked hot even in otherworldly makeup. You kind of thought there might be some romantic or even sexual tension between Calantha and Zephyra, but you brushed it off as you thought that might not be the artistic intention.

Once filming started, your days were basically exclusively spent on set. Not that you were complaining, you loved every second. Even after coming home at 1am when you left for work at 6am, a blissful smile would be painted across your tired face.

The only thing that bothered you was that you barely ever got to talk to Ruby on set. It was more your fault than hers. Every time you two were working together, your brain short circuited and you couldn’t get out anything more than a few dim-witted babbles. Ruby was always so sweet about it though, always lightheartedly chuckling at your barely-comprehensible speech, sometimes even giving your upper arm a squeeze if you felt especially nervous.

You knew she meant well, but any touch from your celebrity crush was sure to do the opposite of calming you down.

One day, during a filming session, you and Ruby were meant to be sitting especially close to each other. You were sure you felt some romantic tension between the two characters, but you chalked it up to your crush on the actress and tried to downplay it. The director, however, seemed very frustrated today, this was the nineteenth take of this particular scene and he still wasn’t happy.

“Cut!” He yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as you and Ruby turned your attention towards him.

“Everything alright, sir?” Ruby asked, making you glad you weren’t the only one who noticed his irritation.

“This scene… it’s missing something.” He brought his hand to his chin and squinted at the both of you. “Do we think we could add a kiss? Right here?”

Your heart stopped, and all the moisture disappeared from your mouth.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed people before. You had your fair share of dates back in high school, that wasn’t the problem.

You’ve kissed, but you’ve never stage kissed.

Sure you had plenty of acting experiences, but the roles you played never required kissing. Instead of playing Aurora, you made a fabulous Maleficent. While Elle Woods locked lips with Emmett, you were busy portraying a hilarious Paulette. And of course, nobody wants to make out with a zombie prom queen.

You had no idea if there was any difference between actual kisses and stage-kisses. Obviously, sex scenes in movies weren’t real. But kisses? What if there is a difference and you go to kiss Ruby on camera and make her uncomfortable? What if she pushes you away? What if she gets mad? You don’t know how you’d recover from something like that, and your mind swarmed with plans to flee the country if that did happen.

Ruby opened her mouth to answer the director, before looking at you for confirmation and noticing your overly-panicked state. She sent you a reassuring smile, and placed a gentle hand on your back.

She turned to the director. “Could we pick this up after lunch? I think my scene partner and I have some things to discuss.”

The director agreed, and since it was still about thirty minutes to lunch, decided to use that time to record some “room noise.” You and Ruby were meant to sit still and quietly, the only thing you heard being the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.

Suddenly, you received a text notification, causing sound to go off and the director to groan and shoot you an annoyed look. You mumbled a quick “sorry” before switching your phone to vibrate and looking to see who texted you.

After wolfing down a sandwich from the craft services table, you stood in front of the trailer with Ruby’s name on the door, wringing your clammy hands while deciding whether or not to knock. You took a deep breath, raised your knuckles, and knocked three times, taking a step back after.

She answered almost immediately, staring down at you with a comforting grin. “Hey, come on in.”

Walking up the stairs and into Ruby’s trailer, you couldn’t help but notice how much cleaner it was than yours. You weren’t necessarily sloppy, but your vanity was covered in various bottles of blue face paint, while your floor held multiple alien-like prosthetics. Ruby’s was tidier, with a small couch pushed up against the wall, and her vanity holding nothing but some makeup basics and a half-full can of Dr. Pepper she had been drinking right before you walked in.

Ruby took a seat in her vanity chair and took a sip from her Dr. Pepper, motioning for you to sit on the small couch. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem too comfortable with the kissing scene.”

You gulped, staring down at your lap. “It’s not that…”

Ruby sat up, leaning forward to gawk at you. “Oh my god… have you never been kissed?”

“What? No! Of course I have…” you trailed off. “I just… I’ve never stage kissed before, and I know you have, so is it any different from regular kissing? I feel so stupid for asking and I’m so sorry but I didn’t wanna do it wrong while filming and I’m kinda embarrassed that I don’t know the answer so that’s why I wanted to ask you privately because I didn’t wanna fuck up…”

Ruby stared at you, silent and wide eyed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to decipher what she was thinking. Suddenly, she threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Your heart sank. Here you were being awkward and vulnerable in front of your crush, and she was laughing at you.

Just before you decided to get up and walk out, Ruby calmed down, wiping away a tear and smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not making fun of you. I didn’t mean to laugh, really. You’re just so cute.”

You felt your cheeks burn at her words. She thinks you’re cute?

Ruby threw her soda away in a nearby trash can and moved to sit next to you on the small couch. She criss-crossed her legs, turning to face you while pondering how to answer your question.

“So… stage kisses are different from regular kisses, but they’re also not, you know? Like, we’re kissing but we’re not like… kissing.”

She peered over at you, studying your facial expressions. You looked more confused than ever, so she continued her explanation.

“So, if you’re asking if my lips will physically be on your lips… then the answer is yes, they will. But they’re not exactly like the real thing, because it’s more of a demonstration to the audience rather than an act of passion between two people.”

“A demonstration?” You cocked your head. Ruby nodded.

“Yeah, so say the camera was over there…” she pointed out in front of you. “…then you might cup my jaw, or cradle the back of my head. But if you were to grab my face or something like that, it’d look pretty awkward in a fifty-fifty profile shot.”

You nodded in understanding. “Ok… I think I get what you’re saying.”

“There are also different types of kissing.” Ruby continued. “Like, it should portray how your character feels about the other character. When Zephyra has scenes with Calantha, how does she feel?”

You gulped, focusing on your lap again. “Well, to be honest, it kinda feels like there’s a lot of romantic or sexual tension between our characters, but I’ve sort of been suppressing it because I’m not sure that was the intention.”

“But you feel like Zephyra is attracted to Calantha sexually?” Ruby asked. You nodded. “Great! You don’t necessarily have to make it explicit, but something like that can help you dive deeper into your character.”

Ruby scooted closer to you, taking your hands in hers. She gazed at you with half lidded eyes, causing your breathing to accelerate.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Ruby’s words barely resonated in your head, there was no way you heard her correctly. “You… huh?”

“For practice.” Ruby clarified, letting go of your hands. “Like you would during filming. Is that ok?”

An involuntary swallow forced itself down your throat as you nodded. You couldn’t believe you were about to kiss your celebrity crush, even if it was only for practice.

You pressed your hand into her warm cheek, pulling her close and quickly pecking her lips before retreating away. Your face burned from embarrassment while Ruby cocked her head, clearly confused.

“That’s it?” She asked. “My bad, I didn’t realize Calantha was your grandmother.”

Ruby moved closer and cradled the back of your head, entangling her fingers into your soft locks. You felt your hands sweat as her big blue eyes gazed into yours. “I was thinking maybe something more like this…”

She crashed her lips into yours, causing warmth to explode in your chest. Her fingers played with your hair as you began to kiss back, and your arms wrapped around her waist. Holy shit could she kiss! You could barely fathom how soft her lips were, tasting faintly of Dr. Pepper and vanilla lip balm. As hard as you tried to act professional and pretend there was a camera in front of you, every inch of your body screamed at you to succumb to your most primal instincts.

You lifted one hand from her waist and moved to rest it on her mid-thigh, causing a gentle moan to escape from her lips and a shiver to run down her body. Startled, you moved back, throughly convinced that you majorly fucked up.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, pulling back your hand like it had touched fire. “I wasn’t thinking, fuck. I got too swept up in the moment. I shouldn’t have touched you, that was completely unprofessional.”

“Hm…?” Ruby blinked, still in a daze. “Oh. Oh! You’re good! Don’t be sorry. I liked it. Really.”

Ruby grinned at you shyly. You stared back at her, a question you weren’t quite sure how to ask lingering at the tip of your tongue. “Ruby, are we still… practicing?”

Her smile faded as her eyes went wide, her gaze dropping to her lap. It was her turn to be coy, a sight you’d never seen before.

She dropped her voice to a low whisper as she choked out her question. “Do you want to be?”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your phone alarm screeched from your jacket pocket. You took it out, groaning as you turned it off.

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What was that?”

“My alarm,” you answered. “I have to go.”

“But lunch isn’t over for another twenty minutes.” Ruby pointed out, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, but I have to head back early so they can touch up my makeup and fix my prosthetics.”

Ruby sighed in understanding. She supposed your costume might have a bit more upkeep than hers. Your prosthetics did look a little wonky after the lunch break, never mind your smudged blue lipstain that made her apprehensive to look in a mirror.

You collected yourself and turned to walk out, but looked over your shoulder before opening the door. “Uhm… Ruby?”

“Hm?” She answered.

You wrung your hands anxiously. “Do you think we could maybe… do this again? Sometime?”

Ruby’s head shot up to look at you, and a playful smile spread across her face. “Do what? More kissing lessons?”

You rolled your eyes as she chuckled, then gave you a lopsided grin. “I’d like that. Lunch again, tomorrow?”

A blush pink color sprinkled across the apples of your cheeks as you smiled back at her, trying your best to stay cool and suppress the giddy feeling that was bubbling inside of you.

“See you then.”

[moonthemagical]

So one of the bulbs in our spotlight burnt out or something...

We had to deal with a hole in the wash the entire rehearsal and on top of that I still had to teach the new light techs all the cues. With one very important light missing.

We're not going to get a specialist in until next Tuesday, and I'm not sure when we'll be able to get a new bulb...

(the lighting system we have is like at least 30 years old, every year one of them breaks. honestly it would cost less longterm to just get new ones...) (but NOOO that would be too expensive!)

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

[sl-vega]

✧Sticking to the Script✧

Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader

Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau

⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.

Status: ONGOING

playlist: just here for the vibes. also shoutout to the lovely @uuyuomi for giving me ideas for what songs should be on here

✧MEET THE CAST✧

y/n + company ✧ xingqiu's victims friends ✧ other friendly faces

PROLOGUE-a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now

01-no chance for a showmance

02-time to write the other 51

03-inspiration? more like desperation

04-the world's a stage and i'm the star

05-lara jean who?

06-not so soft launch

07-rebound already?

08-hollywood here i come

09-i swear i'm not a gold digger guys

10-action!

11-possessive much?

12-juliet's found a new romeo

13-boyfriend vs boy friend

14-no shit sherlock

15-boy you got me helpless

16-you've got it bad

17-denial ain't just a river in egypt

18-third wheeling x10

19-spotify doing me dirty

20-taking my breath away (literally)

21-practice makes you a little too perfect

22-finishing touches

23-cheating but not really

24-feelings are confusing

25-front row seats to my demise

26-confess before the credits roll

27-not the best with words but i'll try for you

28-setting the scene

29-opening night

30-confessions and curtain calls

31-fucking finally

EPILOGUE-that's a wrap!

(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @esmetrees, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot

additional notes:

-this is the reworked version of going of script

-time stamps don't matter

-feel free to comment if you want to be added to the taglist

-this is for all the xingqiu simps and theatre kids

-it's fully planned out so it will start soon :3

-names in bold means I can't tag you btw

[wedgiestoriescollective]

The Senior: A Night in a Hotel Room

(The last Re-Upload)

Chase and I continued our interesting relationship after the events that took place after the choir concert. But the holidays are always a busy time, even during school. I had projects to complete and so did Chase, our daily routine of me giving Chase’s underwear a pull died down for a bit. I did get him a couple times. One time during a break at our choir practice, I yanked his American Eagle trunks up his butt when we were alone in the church's library. Oh man, that was so hot. His jeans were so tight that day, and he was wearing a maroon sweater.

He looked like the preppy guys I'd always jack off to that I wish I could wedgie, and here I was. wedgieing him. What made it even better was that he liked it, and I knew it.

               Before the holiday break I got to wedgie him one more time. Chase had recently joined the speech team, and I was also on the team. I’d like to believe that he joined the team so that he would have more reasons to spend more time with me, but it probably was one of many reasons. He did a great job in the musical and participating in speech is like participating in judged theatre. So, the cast members and teammates encouraged him to join, so he did. As a member of the team, we were required to work the tournament that our school would host. But Chase was also very good at playing the trumpet so during the day of the tournament he wasn’t available because he earned a spot in the All-Region Band. So, he stopped by near the end of the day and his job for the day was to deliver flowers that we were going to put on the table with the trophies for the awards ceremony. He texted me to help him bring them in. I met him at the loading dock as he was pulling in. Now, the wedgie that I gave him as he was getting out of his front seat was a unique one. He got out and I somehow managed to just grab the waistband without digging for it. His Blue and Red stripped American Eagle boxer briefs went right up his ass. I tugged his leg holes past his dress pants waistband, and as the tug reached its height I said “sup”, and immediately snapped his white waistband to his back.

               “Come on” he said, surprisingly annoyed with his wedgie.

               “What did you expect? You asked me to help” I said.

               “With the flowers?” he asked as he was walking to the trunk of his car while simultaneously picking at his underwear. At this point I'd wedgied him so often that he no longer would go out of sight to adjust himself anymore. He would just pick outright in front of me. I found that hot. It was unexpecting how hot I found that to be.

“Well, sorry I'll hold off on the wedgies, I got those”. I lifted a box of flowers and walked with him into the auditorium. We were alone as we were arranging the flowers, but since the stage was so big and the curtains were down, we had no way of knowing if anyone else was there. So, it wasn't the best time to try to give Chase another wedgie. We continued working quietly getting everything all set up.

               I didn’t see Chase until after the holiday break. We texted each other though, he was very good at keeping the text conversation going. It wasn’t all about wedgies. We discussed books and movies that we were both currently reading or watching. Our families. He was very present to listen to my problems. At the time my high school theatre department were prepping auditions for that years play competition. This was the closet that theatre departments in high school got to competing with one another like sports teams do. The point of the competition was to take a play, any play and cut it down to no longer than 50 minutes. My theatre teacher took this play very seriously, taking a lot of time for us to read the play in class, analyze it and audition for roles. There were 16 people in the class and only 7 roles. There was a specific role in the play that I thought I'd be right for. The role required for the actor to be able to play a young prince who may or may not have had an affair with a prince from another country. The point of the role was that you never knew for sure if the characters were gay or not. I was obsessed with the idea of possibly getting the chance to play this role, I memorized scenes, I actively participated in discussions about the play in class. I made it obvious to my theater teacher that I really wanted the role. Being in the cast for this specific play in the theatre department basically marked you as someone who is a top actor in the school.  I knew I was good, but there were a lot of other guys in the department that were older and talented too. But the other kid that was my age in the theatre class Micah, was in the competition play last year and he had the experience and could very well be cast in this role. It shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but Micah was the top of our class, and he participated in theatre because it was something that he could put on his college apps. His family were very devoted Christians which isn’t a problem except for the fact that he would argue that the role I wanted wasn't a homosexual. He would argue this because he knew that if he was cast in the show that it would be in that role and he clearly felt that it was against his religion, so he was trying to find a reason to be able to play it.  I’d say I was straight, but I knew that I wasn’t. But this role spoke to me, especially at that time and if I got it, maybe it was the reason that I needed to give myself permission to accept myself. I really wanted that part.

               The weekend that the cast list was supposed to be posted, my speech team was away at a speech tournament six hours away from home. The prelim rounds went okay on that first day and Chase and I were placed in the same hotel room for the night with twin brothers that were specifically on the debate team. So, that night after the speech kids were done with their rounds, the debate kids were going to remain there till late. The hotel room had two beds and since the twin brother debaters would obviously sleep together in one of them, I was going to sleep with Chase in the other. And not only that, I was going to get to spend a lot of time alone with Chase in a room with a bed

               When Chase and I got back to the hotel room, I went ahead and took a shower. We had a long day of traveling and both Chase and I had been in suits all day. I brought my sweats and tank that I would sleep in the bathroom with me and showered. When I got out of the bathroom with my sleep clothes on there was Chase, standing at the closet in only his boxers. He was hanging up his suit, after taking everything off. Though I've wedgied Chase a lot, I had never seen him without his shirt, and staring at him from behind I immediately noticed the smoothness of his shoulders. Chase wasn't muscular in the sense that he looked like a Calvin Klein model, but he was close. His butt in those boxers were very nice as well. The boxers were navy blue, obviously American Eagle because there were multiple Eagle logos al over them. He turned around,

               “Hey, my turn’ he said.

               I must have not been hiding my looks of intense lustful admiration because his lips slowly curved to a smirk, and he flexed his chest and hell.  He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest was hot, nonetheless. He didn’t have a lot of hair, but there was some that formed a line from the bottom of his belly button to the top the waistband of his boxers. This was the first time that my thoughts went to the possible size of his dick under those boxers. I can't remember for sure, but I was probably hard. Chase started to walk across the room.

               “I know what you're thinking, don't do it” he said as he walked by me to go into the bathroom. I quickly turned around after he walked by me. He stopped walking and turned his head slightly.

               "You can’t help it can you?” he said.

               “I guess not” I replied as my hands slowly gripped his boxers.

               I tug slowly. This was my first time giving a wedgie with the other guy not wearing pants. The more I tug the more I see Chase's ass. It was firm and the more his boxers went up his butt, the harder my dick got. I drop his boxers and gently tap both of his checks with my hands.

               “Enjoy your shower" I said.

               “Thanks” he said walking into the bathroom.

               He stayed in there for about ten minutes. When he came out of the bathroom, he had pajama bottoms with multiple XBOX logos on it. He was still wearing the same boxers that I had just wedgied, but the only way I could tell was that he was sagging his pajama bottoms slightly. But I only had a moment to observe that because he ran at me and jumped on me on the bed.

               It happened very fast. I can’t remember the specifics. But we were basically wrestling, He was the senior and he was obviously a lot stronger than me, but I gave it my all wrestling wise. He pinned me in headlocks and to the ground. He was a lot stronger. But Chase and I had different end goals. His was to pin me to the ground, mine was to pull his boxers up his butt again. I got his boxers a couple of times in the struggle, but not enough to really count the wedgies I gave him legit. But there was one moment when I ended up on the top of his back. My ass was sitting on his head, and I had to have been tea-bagging Chase as I gripped his boxers in both of my hands. I was also fully hard by that point, and there was no way that Chase didn’t know because my bulge was bulging into his shoulders. But his boxers were in my hand, and I started pulling. Pulling with all the strength possible. Chase was moaning but from pleasure or pain I couldn't tell. I successfully pull one mare strong pull and I heard a slight ripping sound. I snap his boxer’s waistband onto Chase’s back, and I roll off him.

               “Fuck, man that was the best wedgie yet” Chase said standing up with his hands in his,

butt fixing his boxers. I stayed laying on the bed breathing heavily.

               “Damn man, you sound like we just fucked” he laughed.

               I laughed that off, at at that moment a feeling of intense shame came over me. I hadn’t cum but I was close. What did those feelings mean? Why do wedgies turn me on? How can I keep this up? It was clear after today that I had extreme lust towards Chase. After seeing his body, smacking his ass, and wedgieing him like I just had.

               “Everything alright man?” Chase asked as he sat down at the front of the bed. But before I could say anything there was a knock on the door.

               I went and answered the door, and it was Lexi. She was one of the strongest actresses in the theatre department. A shoo in for the lead role in the competition play. She was texted the cast list for the competition play and wanted me to see it. I didn’t get the part… or any part in the play. Micah got the part. Lexi said that she wanted me to know because she didn’t want me to have to wait until Monday to see the cast list myself, but I think she wanted to tell me because she was (and still is) a world class bitch. I walked back into the room and crushed, I just started crying, I had never been more disappointed. I didn’t get the role that spoke to me and my true sexuality, and here I was crying in front of the only guy that I had ever had strong feelings for. Chase was very nice. He asked me what was wrong, and when I told him he didn't try to console me. He was just quiet as I laid down on the bed,

               I must have cried myself to sleep because one moment the lights were on, and the next they were off and there was an arm around my shoulder. It was Chase's. I looked over at the other bed and saw that it was still empty. The twins weren’t back yet. I twisted my body around and there was Chase, with his eyes wide open staring at me. He said nothing and we continued just looking at one another. I wanted to kiss him, and I was positive that he wanted to kiss me. But we didn’t kiss. But what I did feel was a hand gently placing itself around my groin. Chase's hand was over my sweatpants, and he slowly put his hand into my sweats and then, into my boxer briefs. Upon impulse I reached in a removed his hand from my pants. But still staring at him. I let go of his hand. I then proceeded to stick my own, hand in my pants. I gently surrounded my dick with my fingers, and then slowly started lifting. and lowering my dick. I did this while continuing to stare at Chase. Chase decided after a couple moments that he would follow suit. He lifted the covers and stuck his hand in his boxers. We continued touching ourselves while still looking at one another. This was a new experience for me, jerking off with someone else in the room. I found it to be a very exhilarating experience. Someone else looking at me and jerking off too. I couldn't see his dick, and he couldn't see mine. That seemed to make it even hotter. We tried to keep rhythm with each other. I don’t know how long we did this, but I do remember that we didn’t climax at the same time. Chase came first, and I followed about ten seconds after. There were no words spoken during or after except for our moans. After we were done, we put the covers back on and just laid back down in bed together. I started crying again, but it was weird. There was so much sadness in my tears, but also a little comfort in the fact that in that singular moment that I was not alone. I cried gently but was surprised to feel Chase's arms wrap around my body, holding me tightly. We laid there spooned into each other. He was there holding me tightly not letting me go as slowly drifted off to sleep.

I think back to this night often. We were both in the closet at the time, and we were both not ready to admit to ourselves that we had these strong feelings. We just had this strong night together. if we were able to let ourselves be open to each other that night, maybe we would have gone farther in our sexual explorations. I did wish I kissed him that night. I wished that I let him touch me, blow me. I wish I could have seen his whole naked body, and that he could see mine. That night was more than just a wedgie fetish. But regardless, I am still grateful to what we did that night because it was a part of my story, and it was truly one of those moments when I realized that I could be attractive, that I could be desired, and that I won't always have to be alone.

[apomaro-mellow]

Family Planning 3

Part 2

Eddie was being led down the hallway by the scruff of his jacket like an unruly pup by Coach Williams while Steve was being led by the shoulder like he was somehow more delicate. They were sat down in a familiar scene in the principal’s office while their parents were being called and Woolsley cleaned up as best as he could.

Still, when he got to the office and took his seat, he had red staining his suit. Both boys gave valiant efforts, trying to hide their snickering behind wobbling smiles.

“Laugh all you want, boys. We’ll see how funny it is when your parents arrive.”

“What exactly are we being charged with?”, Eddie asked, crossing his legs.

“Let’s start with classroom disruptions. And let’s continue with disorderly conduct. And how about we include theft from the theatre department. Oh and let’s not forget inciting a riot.”

“We didn’t incite a riot!”, Steve argued. He was still wearing the fake stomach and thanks to Gareth’s prowess, only had a bit of sauce on his jeans.

“Watch your volume”, Woolsley pointed a warning finger at him. 

“Their families are here, sir”, the secretary announced.

They were waved in and now it was both Mr. and Mrs. Harrington and Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson. Steve’s parents gawked at the sight of him and Wayne only shook his head.

“What’ve you gotten up to this time?”

“Just a being a showman”, Eddie shrugged.

“Steven Arthur Harrington! What are you wearing?”, his mother gasped.

Steve was at a loss of words. It had all seemed like a good idea in the beginning. Actually, it still did. He didn’t know why they were acting like he and Eddie really pulled a baby from his womb. It was just a joke.

“It was just a joke.”

“This”, Richard pointed to Steve’s stomach. “Doesn’t look like a joke. It looks like some upstart alpha has forgotten himself and is making your forget yourself.” Then he pointed to Eddie. “You better stop sniffing around my son-”

“And you better stop pointin’ your finger at my boy”, Wayne said.

“He needs to quit while he’s ahead before this becomes a real problem.”

Two alphas filling the room with tension and not even bothering to hide their scent about it made Steve’s shoulders hunch up a bit. How did a stupid joke turn into all of this? Then his mother spoke up.

“Our son has never done anything like this, which leads me to believe that your nephew-”

“Why does everyone assume it was all Eddie? That I had nothing to do with it?”, Steve accused, standing up. “I’m the one that put this thing on and I’m the one that got up on the desk and shot the sauce.”

“And that’s because of his bad influence”, Richard nodded his head at Eddie.

Wayne put his hands on his hips. “That’s funny because I see two young men here in the hot seat, not just one.”

“Alright, gentlemen”, the principal finally spoke up before looking to Eddie and Steve. “Boys, go and wait outside. As a matter of fact, you can take that back to the prop storage”, he jabbed a finger at Steve’s belly.

Thoroughly dismissed, they did just that, walking out together. Feeling a little humiliated, Steve took the fake stomach off. He could only imagine what they were discussing behind the door. His dad would probably fight tooth and nail, if not for Steve’s sake for his reputation at least. Unfortunately, it had to be said that he didn’t have such high hopes for Eddie.

“Well, that reception could’ve gone better”, Eddie said.

“Understatement of the century”, Steve grumbled.

They got to the theatre department and Steve put the stomach into a box after checking that it was all good. Eddie could smell the bitter undertone in his scent, even in the musty storage room.

“You know, worst case scenario, we need to do a little summer school to make this up.”

“Some of us like having a free summer, Munson.”

“Oh, Munson now is it? What happened to my sweet little mama-to-be?”

Not in the mood for jokes now, Steve just rolled his eyes and turned to walk out. Eddie didn’t need to get a whiff to know that his joke had landed flat. He followed Steve out, tripping over something feathery in his haste to catch up to the omega. He didn’t know what Steve was more turned off by, having to continue the project together, or having to call it quits here and do some other make up assignment.

“Hey, hey, I know I’m not like your idea of a perfect alpha or anything.”

Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to lean back against a locker, crossing his arms. “Come on, man. Give yourself a break. You’re not that bad.”

Eddie put a hand to his chest. “My word! That almost sounded like a compliment!”

“Keep it up and I’ll take it back”, Steve said, grinning a little now.

Feeling welcomed, Eddie came to stand next to him, their shoulders almost touching. Steve smelled a little sweeter now and his body wasn’t as tense.

“You really are hot and cold. Can’t you be a little warmer to your baby daddy?”, Eddie batted his lashes.

Steve leaned over and into his space. “A good alpha would put in some real effort to warm me up.”

Eddie hesitated for only a moment before he leaned in a little as well. Steve smoothed his cheek over Eddie’s and breathed in deep. No one had scented Eddie besides his uncle and he stood stock still as Steve did it.

“You smell really good, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” To be honest, Steve had never taken a moment to savor in Eddie’s scent. But now that he was taking his time to do so…

“Steven Arthur Harrington!”

Eddie jumped back like it was his own name being shouted down the hallways. So hard that the sound of the locker slamming echoed in the mostly empty hallway. Steve’s parents collected him and carted him out so quickly that Eddie got whiplash. Wayne came up to him much more calmly and patted his shoulder. 

“Do I gotta to the full name treatment for you?”

“If you say my middle name out loud I’ll run away from home”, Eddie threatened.

“Son at your age, it’s just called ‘moving out’.”

Both walked out, shoulders shaking with chuckles and that was when Wayne told him what was what.

“We managed to get you both a deal. You can do the project as intended, new sack of flour and all. Just no more funny business.”

“That’s it?”, Eddie asked as he was walked to his van.

“No funny business at all. No causing trouble for yourself or that other boy. Think you can keep your hands clean for an entire year?”

The Harringtons had already left, probably sped out of the parking lot to keep from running into the Munsons again. But even so, it was easy to remember Steve’s fleeting smile and the scent that wafted off of him when he was feeling content or even happy. 

“I think I can do that”, Eddie said, resolute.

Part 4 coming soon

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@marklee-blackmore @aol19

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to break up with my boyfriend?

I, 18f, graduated high school this year and will be heading off to college in about a month. I've been with my boyfriend, 17m, nearly all of high school and he is one of the most wonderful, amazing, kindest people I know and I love him. We're not planning on going to the same college, even though we'll be doing virtually the same major (theatre performance vs theatre design and production, that's how we met).

However, much as I care for him, I just can't see myself spending the rest of my life with him. He's been my first and only serious romance, and while his parents were high school sweethearts, I know it rarely works out that way for most people. Recently he asked me where he saw us in five years (when I'd be out of college) and he still saw us together, wanted to be together, and he's made a few references to wanting to be together as adults after college. I honestly told him that I don't know, I have no clue where college would take each of us, and if we'd still be together even when we go separate ways. I don't have anywhere near his level of certainty in a future with us together.

In the same conversation he mentioned that when he graduates (he's a year under me, junior when I was a senior) he'll be leaving on his mission for two years and when he gets back he's not sure about college, he's always planned on going but he said that because it would mean he's doing a four year degree and in college for two extra years after I graduate (both of us in for 4 years). He said that if we were still together then, he might not even go to college for the sake of being with me and that just made me feel very guilty and uncomfortable because that's a massive life choice and he's never expressed interest in not going to college until then and I don't want to be the sole reason he changes his mind on something like that, I don't want him to give up on a degree and potentially the career he wants for my sake. We talked about it then, he didn't intend for it to come across the way it did for me, and he still has plenty of time to think about it with next school year then two years on his mission. We both apologized and there's no hard feelings, but it still leaves me feeling strange.

He's also very religious, not in a bad way, and I'm not at all. I find religion a fascinating topic academically but it's not for me at all and while I've had many long discussions about it with him before and it's always an interesting and lighthearted topic, I know there's this unspoken expectation that I would have to (or at least would be 'supposed' to) convert if we were to get married, and that's not something I could do even just in name if not in actual beliefs.

Right now I don't want to leave him, as I said, I adore him and he's one of the most wonderful people I know, I'm incredibly happy with him, but in all honesty, I don't see myself still being with him in five years once I'm out of college, I don't see myself marrying him, I can't see us spending the rest of our lives together. I think in the end we're just too different, he wants kids and I don't, he's religious and I'm not, it's just not it, and I know that if I ended up with him I would spend my life feeling like I settled for him just cause he's who I'm with now when there could be someone else. He deserves the very best in life and deserves to be happy, and I don't feel like I can give that to him, but I don't want to just leave him because we are happy right now and I do love him and want to be with him for as long as I can be, but not forever.

The problem is, he's so hopeful and we're so happy right now and I've just been holding onto this for a while and I feel like a complete asshole for not telling him how I feel and not being honest about the future. When I went and told a friend this, her first response was that I'm just leading him on and making it even harder for when we eventually do break up or grow apart, and that's also been weighing on me. I don't want to lead him on or give him false hope about a future together when I can't see that happening, and I can see how my actions here can be cruel and hurtful and that I'm essentially lying to him as to not hurt him. That same friend also suggested slowly ghosting him in college and allowing us to drift apart slowly and let that happen, and that also feels like an asshole move because I'm honestly closer to him and his parents than I am my own family.

But in the end, am I the asshole for not wanting to be with someone who wants to be with me and looking forward eventually not being with him even if I do love him and want to be with him now? Am I the asshole for essentially completely leading him on?

What are these acronyms?