#Shakin' Off The Rust

[audiophiliacfan]

Bang my head against the wall Try to find my stride, but I trip and I fall Losing my attention again Yeah, I hit the bottom, but I'm on the mend

(I get up!) Take another step, push it to the edge (I get up!) Just a little more, I can see the end (I get up!) Yeah you're finished, yeah you're mine always win in due time

(You think too much!) It's in my head So I'm shaking off the rust and (You've got no trust!) It's in my head So I'm shaking off the rust I think I broke just a little bit Walked through the fire, made it back again Lord knows I tried everything I can Now I'm shakin' off the rust

(Now I'm shakin' off the rust)

Bang my head against the wall Try to hold a smile, but I'm sick of it all Everyone with something to say Better hold my tongue, or I'll make a mistake (I get up!) Show 'em what I do, show 'em how it's done (I get up!) Never turn it down, never gonna run (I've learned)

(You think too much!) It's in my head So I'm shaking off the rust and (You've got no trust!) It's in my head So I'm shaking off the rust I think I broke just a little bit Walked through the fire, made it back again Lord knows I tried everything I can Now I'm shakin' off the rust

(Now I'm shakin' off the rust) (Now I'm shakin' off the rust)

You think too much! It's in my head So I'm shaking off the rust and You've got no trust! It's in my head Now I'm shaking off the rust I think I broke just a little bit Walked through the fire, made it back again Lord knows, I've tried everything I can And I'm shakin' off the rust Yeah, I'm shakin' off the rust!

[candycatstuffs]

drew @sstorminghearts' ice amy design bcuz i am. obsessed

[dragonsongmakhali]

<YO! SAY! SUMMER 💗 LOVE!>

Prompt: A2

you can't even tell she has heart-shaped sunglasses on :( I guess that just means I'll have to make more summer time poses ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[draggysden]

Growly Kassie (ft. Sara way back there)

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

pacing is my favorite stim which is unfortunate because my legs are just fucked up enough that if i do it for slightly too long i end up in pain. stimming always wins though, so i do it anyway

[madeimpact]

❝ You need only remain as you are, Madoka Kaname. My only concern is that you are happy. To that end, please...do not concern yourself with any of what you just witnessed. ❞

@memuria || Winging it based on one (1) trailer

[dijidweeeb]

Motivational Music in the Morning ... #TheBlueStones, #ShakinOffTheRust ... from the Album #HiddenGems [Official Lyric Video] (2022) #MMitM1

[conscience-killer]

2, 6, 7, 11… and 31 LOL ENJOY

I hope you're happy I've had to turn my music down to concentrate.

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

Abso-fuckin-lutely not. My wrist already sounds like a fucking cement mixer. I can't even stand signing my name. (Fun fact, I hate writing by hand so much that when I was a kid and figuring out my handwriting, I created a style that requires the least amount of pen to paper. Basically one stroke for each letter, if the letter permits. Except I cross my Z's. I have no idea why.) Also my writing looks like that of a toddler with a pen stuck in its arse. Thusly:

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

I worry sometimes that I'll get brain fog and it'll never go away. Or I'll forget how shit works (not that I ever technically knew in the first place). I was relieved when I shook off the rust for Shakin' Off the Rust (see wut I did thar), because it came out pretty well, especially considering it'd been three years. Maybe it was just the catharsis of it? Idk I'm rambling. Brain hornets.

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

I mean it's probably obvious to anyone who's ever read any of my stories that I love love LOVE taking really fucking unpleasant scenarios and somehow making them palatable. The "Oh shit that really should not have been hot" market has always been my jam.

Also, I'm always gonna be a slut for shoehorning in references that maybe five people will pick up on. If they do they immediately fall into the Good People category.

Also, getting Matthew "Rickety Cricket" Mara laid.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

I don't kill them I simply let them fester while I side-eye them. Then I figure out a way to work them in because goddammit, they're darlings for a reason. You can bet your ass I'm gonna fit in that 50th Buffy reference somewhere.

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

Listen, I love everyone that's taken the time to read, kudos and especially comment on my fics. Even the G*tham stuff for fuck's sake. Moreso anyone who enjoys my Cricket stories because they will always and forevermore be the most fun I've had writing, and they're pretty special to me for that reason. They're the nichest of niche markets and I adore anyone who gives them the time of day. Fun fact: they got an unreasonable amount of love in mid 2020; I'm guessing people were running out of other Sunny ships to read lmao.

[infiltracion]

∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver .

...ESTABLECIENDO CONEXIÓN, @empathetc .

        if you had asked sombra how  she thought her night would go,  she would not have guessed that she'd be leading a drunk british girl to safety.  after all,  her psuedo-omnipresence only went as far as technology let it.  emily was not on her radar as of late.  in fact she hardly paid any mind to her and her military dog of a girlfriend in weeks.  her mistake,  really,  considering the teary - eyed mess wrapped around her arm.  for better or for worse,  her interest was now piqued.

        "  aye,  take some deep breaths.  you're look like you're gonna hyperventilate.  i don't have a paper bag if you do.  "  hands placed themselves upon the journalist's shoulders and guided her down onto a bench in the quieter side of the bar.  sombra promptly joined her,  sitting across from her.  "  what's with the waterworks?  bad week?  "

        emily's freckled arms work to cover the evidence of her meltdown,  sloppily wiping tears (  and mascara  ) from her face.  soft sniffling preceded her response.  "  oh,  sofía,  i don't know,  "  oh,  right.  that's the name sombra decided to stick with for this schtick.  "  w- we just  ...  we had a fight and  ...  i just wanted to tell her that i wish she'd be here with me a little more and-  and i know her work is important but-  "

        oh,  now this is interesting.  the smile that threatened to curve her lips was supressed with an exaggerated gasp.  she reached forward to grasp the girl's hands in her own,  brows furrowed in a convincing imitation of anger.  "  ¡ no manches !  em,  i keep telling you that you need to put your foot down with that girl.  the hell was her name...  lena?  does she even talk about what she does or is that a secret too?  "

        she watched as emily's shoulders stiffened at her words,  breath catching before she scrambled to defend all of the  '  good work  '  lena did on her day to day.  intoxicated and in the safety of a friend's council,  sombra simply waited for the intimate details of their lives to fall into her lap.  it was easy to forget how much you could get out of the girl with a little prodding.  a mental note was made to check out the happenings of king's row when she got home.

[23b0075nke]

shakin off the rust

[lvnestudy]

September 5th, 2024

Day 5/30 days of productivity

I need to pull myself out of the holiday mood before the next semester begins, so I did some reading, took notes, and moved said notes to Obsidian before brainstorming ideas for my thesis. Then I read "The Old Nurse's Story" by Elizabeth Gaskell in this collection of short stories and made breakfast and dinner. 10/10 pretty productive day.

Work as usual

Continue reading article

Continue note-taking

Review past notes

Cook meals

Chores

Q: Do you usually like art for its beauty or its meaning? Or both? — Both. There are pieces that leave a deep impression on me for its beauty alone, some for its meaning, or both at once.

🎧 Shakin' Off The Rust - The Blue Stones

[bubble-popping]

day 6? i think? roleswap au again yeah there's a lot of it

He couldn't stop shaking. Several minutes had passed. His breathing was still ragged. The stench of rust and slaughter still burned his nostrils. Blood still matted his fur. (He didn't even want to think about who's.) He felt so disgusting; he couldn't bear to look at himself.

He kept rereading the main channel on his communicator just to be occupied. His grasp on the device tightened and loosened, assuring him it was all real, that this wasn't some twisted nightmare.

That he'd just massacred so many innocent people--including his best friend. And worst of all, he still felt the overwhelming urge to do it again scratching at the back of his brain.

Dream squeezed his eyes shut, willing the bile to stay down.

"Some festival, huh?"

The enderian jolted, his entire body puffing up and a strangled enderman noise leaving his throat. He looked to the source of the voice, and all the panic-driven adrenaline that'd filled his veins crashed to a halt.

"Technoblade, what the hell! Don't sneak up on me like that!" His communicator creaked under his crushing grip.

Techno raised his arms in surrender. "Woah, sorry. Didn't realize ya were tryna have a moment there. I can go if-"

"No, no," Dream interrupted, maybe a little too quickly. "It's fine. You can stay. Just, surprised me is all." He relaxed against the oak tree at his back, letting his device de-materialize so his hands were limp in his lap. He hated the empty feeling, but the constant reminder of his crimes was worse.

The masked man approached to join him under the shade. He sat with a low sigh, knees bent and arms resting on top.

Something about Techno's presence was very comforting--in the way that an old trusty axe or a well-worn shield was. Of course, Dream would never admit this, much less to Technoblade himself.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" Techno asked, startling Dream from his thoughts.

Dream snorted. "Since when do you care about my mental health, Techno?"

"Since I found ya shakin' like a leaf under a tree covered in blood n' guts."

"Oh yeah, cuz I totally believe you just happened to be walking by. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was just mindin' my business walkin' down the Member Road when my comms exploded, no pun intended, so I was like 'Dream's goin' off? Oh, this I gotta see' and now I'm here."

Dream blinked at him blankly. Then he scoffed, and then he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Without even realizing, he gradually relaxed more and more until he was slouched against the trunk.

"So, you followed me out here to, what? Make fun of me? Brag about how you would've killed more?"

"Nah, I told ya, Dream. I came to see if yer okay."

"And I told you I don't buy that."

"Can I not care about my favorite rival?"

"Techno, I'm your only rival."

"Wow, Dream, that's kinda narcissistic of ya. Possessive too."

"Do you have any other rivals?"

"None on yer level, but I'd say I have a few. If I had known ya wanted to be exclusive then I would've told 'em-"

"Oh my god, shut up! You're so stupid! That's not what I'm saying!" Dream exclaimed while giving a playful shove. Techno promptly dissolved into hiccuping laughter. The enderman pretended his face wasn't heating up, crossing his arms like a petulant child, despite how he joined in the giggles.

Yet, he knew he needed this. Even if just for a moment, he could imagine everything was okay. That he was safe here, tucked away from the rest of the server with the admin harmlessly bullying him while an undeniable fondness grew in his heart.

A comfortable silence blanketed them once they'd calmed down. Dream could feel a certain exhaustion start to weigh on his eyelids, and inevitably his hands itched to grab something.

[mattmcguigan]

Had our first art request stream in a long time today! Shakin' off some rust, and we had a good time! Not sure how I wanna post these in future, but this little art-card-style presentation felt cute for now!

[powderblueblood]

Gimme a classic Ronnie and Eddie mess around! Like, what is their greatest conquest to date, what pranks/hijinks have they pulled over on the beleaguered people of Hawkins?

it's the eve of, y'know, that.

the big departure.

the long goodbye.

ronnie and eddie have started referring to it as phillip marlowe-ing in order to, y'know, skirt around the issue of her leaving for new york because it's not as if either of them are wont to express their feelings here, jesus christ. well, except in the case of--

"alright, RJ, i got one for ya. top five hawkins fuck yous, let 'er rip."

ronnie prrrfftts out a breath and nearly keels over in her rusted, rickety, fold-up lawn chair that they've perched in front of the ecker trailer. it's a balmy summer night and ronnie's full of beer and eddie's merging onto nostalgia boulevard.

"where could i possibly begin, dude?"

a hawkins fuck you is another colloquialism shared between 'em. because when ronnie and eddie pull off a prank, it's not just a prank. okay? it's a statement. this is something that ronnie insists upon, something eddie blames on her 'punk rat leanings', but the personal is political, okay! and you know what else is political?

"number five, naturally, we gotta go small and loving-- shakin' up a can of soda before we give it to gareth. it's fresh, it's funky, it's harmless."

cigarette ember gesticulating in the dwindling light, eddie adds, "and it helps him remember his place."

"bingo. do not forget to keep that shit up when i'm in new york," ronnie says, pointedly pointing, "i don't wanna fuckin heaaar about you gettin' all soft on him and lettin' him run around without a face full of sody pop."

"it's what the munchkin deserves," her similarly be-banged brother agrees. "why does he keep falling for it, ya think?"

"because he loves us, you dumb-dumb," ronnie closes her eyes and sticks her hands behind her head, scratching under the band of her ball cap. "alright, number four... shit, kaminsky and the glue seat. it's gotta be, right? what a totally perfect maelstrom of humiliation."

"christ, and when he couldn't get up without tearing his fucking pants and then kelley comes in--"

"she had to think he was rodded up, dude! signed, sealed, delivered, pervert on school grounds!"

eddie guffaws, big and hearty in a way that makes ronnie join him. "i couldn't believe you dreamed that shit up on your own, you little do-gooder."

ronnie reaches for her beer and takes a pull, sobriety edging to the point where she's seeing twice as many fireflies as usual congregating around her porch light. her voice turns gravelly and serious.

"a c minus will do crazy things to a man."

"jesus, you sound like--"

"don't even say it."

slumping down in his squeaking seat, eddie scoffs. "number three, make with it."

ronnie's mouth twists, absently plucking at the label on her bottle. this is real now, this is crunch time. whenever they usually play top five (top five transformers, top five cheerleaders you'd mow down with a dirt bike, top five cheerleaders you'd save from getting mown down with a dirt bike if you knew they'd make out with you after), ronnie'd get a little overwhelmed once they broke the top three. that's a lot of pressure, y'know! three, magic number, all that shit!

but it's nostalgia boulevard. it's sentimental city. certain things stick out.

ronnie tosses a balled up piece of label at eddie. "foam party at the hawk."

her best friend's mouth perks up and he bats a big ol' bastard of a hand at her. "you're just sayin' that."

"i'm not! that was... i mean, that revolutionized the hawkins fuck you genre!"

"yeah, well, that's what they get for showing it's a wonderful life in july."

"you and your girlfriend dawn dishsoap gettin' freaky in the air vents."

"i could've gone to juvie for that one. if they caught me."

"this is what i'm sayin'!"

click, click. eddie lights another cigarette and ronnie nearly asks him for one, but knows she'll regret the taste of gross tobacco breath in the morning. "but it's still not number one, or number two," he points out.

"well, no, because number two is steve harrington's bald patch!"

a resounding SMACK! as both ronnie and eddie clap their hands together on cue, breaking into peals of soundless laughter, so much so that i'm gonna have to explain this fucking bit to ya, aren't i?

steve harrington's bald patch was a glorious era of time where ronnie was once caught attempting to see something through the arc de triomphe of steve harrington's hair. this prompted steve harrington to be like, what are you staring at, weirdo, or something to that effect which ronnie didn't appreciate. so she was all, dude, you might wanna... get that looked at... that... patch on the back of your head...

and somehow, by some grace of some satanic deity, it caught on.

every time ronnie or eddie were within staring distance of harrington, they zeroed in on the back of his head, exchanging looks of disgust, mild concern, but never amusement so he'd think it was real. and furthermore, they were worried for him. because who wouldn't be worried about steve 'the hair' harrington's hair? it was basically the hawkins high mascot.

and who had more school spirit than ecker and munson?

"ohhhh, shit!" ronnie yelps, wiping at her streaming eyes. "think he ever went and got that rogaine?"

"uuuggghhuhuh, who gives a shit!" eddie drums on the armrests excitedly, the both of them belly-sore from laughing. "number one, ecker! the big catch, c'mon! better be as good as what i'm thinkin' of because if not..."

ronnie lets the last dregs of their laughter peter off into the night air before she answers. the night air, the last night's air, the last night she'll sit out here with eddie talking shit, being teenagers, being go-nowhere do-nothing kids from the trailer park. her stomach twists, but she doesn't let that stop her.

"well, duh," she swallows, after a the last pull of beer suds from her bottle, "graduating."

it takes eddie a second. "you're an asshole."

ronnie's cheeks straight up ache.

"i know."

how the hell is she gonna survive new york without this?

"and i'm very proud of you, asshole."

ah, shit.

"i know."

[astronautbeans]

for the ask game: 25, 29 (for The Moth and The Flame :D), 39 and/or 50?

yooooo 4 whole things to answer!!!!

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write? probably fanfiction.net?? I have/need to look up a lot for fics like tidal waves or htkag so the pacific rim and empires smp wikis are visited a lot xD

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [insert fic]? Explain your choices if you want! I'm so bad with fic playlists you have no idea- but two songs that I associate with the fic are Shakin' Off The Rust by The Blue Stones for vibes (and it was going to be the title at first), and Empire & the Sun by The Moth & The Flame which doesn't really fit the vibe of the fic but that's the only song I know from them, and it's where I got my title from

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who? one thing that's definitely helped me with my writing process is the Sprinto bot (love you Sprinto bot <3) which was introduced to me by @/artielotl over a year ago! :D

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! I'll take this moment to talk about Etho (wow how original, who would've thought?) but I just??? can't settle on headcanons???? like I enjoy this guy so much but my head will pingpong between wither!Etho and glitch!Etho and phantom!Etho (beloved, honestly) and immortal/herobrine!Etho and fox!Etho and I could just keep going,,, but that said feel free to drop more Etho headcanons I would love to add them to my collection hear more!

thx so much for the ask!! :D