#i've talked about these ideas in the brownstone a couple times and people have said they've never seen the santa clause or single all the w

[rockyroadkylers]

I know it's not even October, but hear me out: should I write a holiday fic this year?

I came up with a few ideas for Christmas/winter fics last year, but by the time I had the ideas it was way too late to start writing them in time to actually post them during the holiday season. This year, I thought it might be a good idea to get a head start, so I'm trying to put some feelers out and see if there's any interest.

DESCRIPTIONS (READ BEFORE VOTING) (Yes, these are all inspired by movies lmao)

The Santa Clause AU Inspired by the Tim Allen movie, set a year or two after Ellen and Oscar's divorce (so Alex would be a few years older than the kid in the movie and probably a bit more tight-lipped about the whole "my dad is Santa" thing 😂), a scheduling mishap prevents Ellen from being able to spend Christmas with her kids. June is able to make arrangements with a friend, but Alex has to get on a plane by himself to fly out to California to visit Oscar at the last minute. Things are a little awkward between them, until something weird happens...

Frozen AU Not a whole lot to say here, it's basically the plot of the movie... with less singing, and probably less talking snowmen 😂 (sorry, Olaf... love you buddy... wait... could Nora be a talking snowman... would y'all hate me for that 👀)

A Christmas Carol AU

A Kensington divergence fic where Alex never flies to Kensington (or Henry tells him to leave, one or the other) and the emails never get leaked. Henry falls asleep on Christmas Eve and wakes up in the middle of the night to find the ghost of Arthur Fox in his bedroom.

Single All The Way AU

Inspired by one of my favorite silly Hallmark-y Christmas movies, Alex breaks up with his cheater boyfriend right before he's supposed to go home for Christmas, and asks his roommate Henry to come home with him and pretend to be his boyfriend so his family doesn't try to set him up with anyone over the holidays. Henry reluctantly agrees, but things don't go quite the way they plan...

You know the drill, reblog for a bigger sample size, etc...

[berrypass-de-murdler]

thank you + ep 88

I'm so sorry for freaking out...

I've been trying to get a handle on my emotions, but I feel like I'm in a downward spiral a lot of the time - I come from DeviantArt and Discord where things have been rough to say the least, and it gives me a LOT of paranoia for other sites. I had to leave the Murdle Discord server after I was scolded for being too affectionate to my murdlers. That as well as my psychiatrist not giving me a straight answer on whether I have autism (my god what do I have why will no one tell me) really takes a number on my ability to talk to people and create art

I am essentially void of human companionship aside from talking to a couple people through Discord (mostly raven) and Fletch (who is my blood-related sister so it's a little different lol) and it's made me crazy lmao. All I ever want is to be loved no matter how cheesy it sounds <3

Your words genuinely touched my soul and helped me to calm down, and I love you all so much <3

awkwardly transitioning into usual episode...

Background Marengo is designed by Fletchinderat based on my idea of a faceless mannequin, she designed the dress pattern though. I love her!

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico can finally walk straight again. He heads to the next stage for filming. It looks like Irratino’s mansion. It looks like… Irratino’s mansion…

There’s a dumb-looking fake Irratino standing there - a lifeless robot. It has this uncanny smile. It’s not Irratino’s smile. Logico KNOWS Irratino’s smile.

The fake 50-car garage, the fake hair-textured grass, the fake cauldron-sized bed… it’s all FAKE. Just like everything that Irratino gave him… Logico’s tears flood as he remembers the past two season finales. He can scarcely tell which was worse. He sees robots of the Duke, and Brownstone, and Azure, and Obsidian…? The Obsidian robot looks a LITTLE too realistic, and it makes him uncomfortable. He hasn't thought about Obsidian since the first season!

FAUX OBSIDIAN: Welcome back to the game, Deductive.

With one more 180 degree spin, the Irratino robot is dead flat. Just like he pretended to be on the island. The robots are killing other robots… this is ridiculous. 

FAUX DUKE: I want to rob a grave. FAUX AZURE: I love hypnosis. FAUX BROWNSTONE: In the name of God, small spaces remind me of my monastery.

You know, normal things they would say. Logico gets a phone ring and IMMEDIATELY flips his mood.

IRRATINO: SQUEEEEEE!! The robot playing me died?? Was it handsome?? LOGICO: No. It couldn’t be. IRRATINO: AAHHAHAWW LOGICO. Hehe. So what’s been going on with you? LOGICO: Oh, just another DUMB MYSTERY! There’s more of these creepy robots and there’s even one of Obsidian, if you can believe it. IRRATINO: Wow, I thought Midnight flat-out said that they weren’t gonna have her in that movie at all! :0 LOGICO: …what

Gico runs over and finds the Obsidian twirling a stick. 

FAUX OBSIDIAN: Imagine if he really DID die when you met him.  LOGICO: Jesus Christ, these… wait a second… ohhhhhh… you’re the real Dame Obsidian aren’t you!  OBSIDIAN: Of course, Logico. I thought you figured that out already. Have you figured out the significance of THIS yet? 

She points to the Midnight Prop Shop’s MPS logo. Logi squints. That CAN’T just stand for Midnight Prop Shop. Does it stand for My… Painful… Scream?? No… that’s-

Oh, Obsidian is gone. Shocker.

The end!

I apologize again </3

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers

[50-shades-of-beige]

Other side of the wall.

Summary: Jim, your next door neighbour, blares his guitar while you play delicate tunes on your piano. The two of you couldn't be more different until the magic of making music connects you both.

Warnings: little bit of arguing, swearing, tiny bit suggestive at the end

A/N: Just a another Hopper x reader fic for you all to indulge in. This one is a little different! It's set in New York and has a muscican au vibe to it. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! 😁❤️

Gif source [x]

When you moved to New York city you enjoyed the prospect of having neighbours. Neighbours above you, under you, either side of you- it was one of the main reasons why you had your heart set on an apartment almost smack bang in the middle of the city.

It was a beautiful neighbourhood. Tall brownstone buildings on either side, cherry blossom and oak trees lining the pavements- it was picturesque. The only problem was the stairs. When you moved in, getting your stuff- including your baby grand piano- was horrendously strenuous and time consuming but with the help from the removal company, you were relaxing in your apartment later that evening.

The complex you lived in was fairly quiet, there was six apartments in the one building. You lived on the top level- the apartment across from you was empty and up for sale. Below you in the other four apartments there was a widow who had beautiful window boxes which she tended to everyday, a middle aged man who often came home late and left early the next morning for work, a young couple who had just gotten engaged and another house that was rented out by a landlord so had always had new people in it when it wasn't empty. They were all lovely and got along with you well. You asked them when you moved in if playing the piano would be a problem, they all insisted that it wasn't and said they rather enjoyed the live music drifting down the stairs and in through their windows when theirs and yours were open.

You had to practice a lot. You had gotten a job in swanky hotel to play it and as well as that you also played for a regional orchestra.

Playing the piano was your life.

It was a typical sunny Tuesday. Your windows were wide open late in the afternoon and a gentle breeze was making the curtains dance. You were composing a new piece, one hand holding a pencil and jotting down notes while the other effortlessly drifted over the keys.

You were making good process when-

Screech!

Your hand slammed down on the keys with fright as a loud noise filled your apartment, almost making your ornaments on top of your fireplace wobble.

"What the hell was that?!" You asked yourself and stood up from your piano stool and looked out the window. The noise had gone and you couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. You sighed and shook it off returning to your piano and playing your tune again. It was soft, delicate until it reached a grand crescendo and your whole apartment erupted with music.

Screech!

That noise again. It made you jump and made you mess up your piece completely. "What the hell?!" This time you could pinpoint where it was coming from. The living room that was next to yours and separated by a wall. You went back to your window and leaned outside, reaching across slightly to knock on the window next door.

The woman with the window boxes had told you about a new neighbour who had bought the apartment across the landing from yours. The window opened and your breath hitched when you saw your new (surprisingly attractive) neighbour. He had the fluffiest hair, the colour of it very similar to his beard and eyes that could compete with the blueness of the sea and easily win.

"Can I help you?"

Then you remembered that you were pissed with him.

"Yeah, what the hell was that noise?" You asked.

He shrugged "My electric guitar, trying to tweak my amp to get the right volume to drown out your fancy ass classical shit."

You raised an unimpressed brow "'Fancy ass classical shit'? You mean my piano?" He let out a snort of laughter "At least I can actually play! Sounds like you were killing an animal or something!"

His eyes narrowed "What I was playing was actual music, fancy ass. If you take requests, my request is for you to shut up."

You were seeing red, your fingers twitched furiously and you went back to your piano, inhaling a deep breath and slamming your fingers down on the keys creating the loudest note you could. You were going to show him what actual music sounded like.

Mainly out of spite.

You quickly and flawlessly played the most intense and dramatic piece you could. But on the other side of the wall, your neighbour knew two could play at that game and blared out a note on his electric guitar, sliding his fingers up and down the strings to create wails and hums that were trying to drown out your piano. When you finished the piece you slumped across the keys and caught your breath, too caught up in competing with who could play the best and the loudest. You wiped the trickle of sweat away from your hairline and let a growl under your breath as your neighbour continued playing.

•••

The competing carried on for weeks and then eventually a month and then two months. The entire duration your neighbour had been living across from you.

You tried your best to ignore the cackling of amplifier and screech of the guitar and your neighbour in general. The amplifier and guitar were harder to ignore than your neighbour, the only time you had saw him was when the two of you had your heads sticking out the window eight weeks ago.

You had just returned home from work and you wanted to do nothing more than sit back, relax and the play piano for an hour before bed. Before you went upstairs, you collected your mail from your box in the communal hallway. General mail, you flicked through them one by one and then stopped when you noticed that one wasn't addressed to you.

"James Hopper?" Realisation hit you "Oh god..." you groaned. You let out an irritated huff when you noticed that you couldn't get into his box to put the letter in- the mail person had a master key. You decided to just take it up to him and slide it under the door. When you reached the top you kneeled down and had slid the envelope halfway under the door when it opened. You froze and slowly looked up to see him standing over you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Uh," you quickly stood up and extending the letter out to him "This was in my mailbox but it's addressed to you."

He took the letter "Thanks," he uttered as if it was a chore talking to you.

"You're welcome, James." You notice his face scrunch up when you called him that.

"Just...call me Jim...or asshole, because I know you're thinkin' it half the time," he let out a breathy chuckle and the corner of your lip tugged upwards.

You finally introduced yourself properly "Y/N...or fancy ass." Jim genuinely smiled and shook your hand before you bid him goodnight and went into your apartment.

After you had changed into your pyjamas and before you went to bed, you played your composed piece. You had written lyrics in your notebook on the way home from work and were trying to find perfect places for them between the music notes.

You played a few notes and sang what you had: "I don't know about you, but I hope you feel it too..." you scribbled out a note and replaced it with another "Am I the only one who can see what we've become...?"

You scribbled down more notes and words for at least an hour before calling it a night. Unbeknownst to you, your neighbour was listening.

And he was impressed.

•••

"Ah Chopin...more like Cho-pain..." you couldn't help but snort with amusement at your own joke as you practiced. You flicked through your song book while you recited each and every song until you were done. It took half the day but at least you would be prepared for your concert at the weekend.

You pulled out your own composed piece and began to play it and hum along with the words. You thought you were hearing things when you heard someone play along with you.

You played an A and another A followed. You placed a C and seconds later another C was playing. It was like an echo. You decided to experiment and play a few chords, again, they were repeated seconds later. You played more and listened closely until a sharp was played instead of a flat.

You held your breath for a second before speaking out to nothing but the four walls of your living room "It's a C flat not a C sharp..."

There was a moment of silence "Sorry! I'll get it right next time."

You let out a short giggle and played again, when you finished the song, you had an idea. You bit down on your lip and left your apartment barefooted, walked across the landing and knocked on Jim's door. "Do you...do you want to see what I've got written down?"

Jim smiled "Sure, hold on," he turned around and went to where his living room would be while you kept glancing back as you walked into your apartment. You sat down at the piano and played a few keys before Jim walked in with an acoustic guitar.

You smirked "And here I thought you only played electric..."

"I'm full of surprises," he winked and sat down next to you on your stool "Did you write it yourself?" He motioned at the sheet of paper "I've heard you play it a few times."

"Yeah, I did write it..."

"The lyrics too?" He asked and tuned his guitar.

You nodded "Yeah..." you nervously cleared your throat "Sorry if you heard me, I'm like nails being dragged down a chalkboard!"

"No!" Jim protested with a wide smile "You're actually quite good. You okay with me playing along?" You nodded and began playing, Jim perfectly harmonising with you. His guitar was a great addition. The night crept in and you walked him to your door, saying a final goodnight before you both shut your doors over. You climbed into bed and let out a loud sigh with a smile on your face. Perhaps Jim wasn't as bad as you initially thought.

You knew his bedroom was on the other side of the wall from yours so, you decided to put a little more effort in with him "Hey Jim?"

It took him a few seconds to reply "These walls are super thin..." he joked and you giggled, he soon joined in. "For a second there I thought you where a ghost or something."

"Yeah, these apartments try to have so much space that the walls are compromised. Also, the drains are connected, I can hear you singing Elvis in your bathroom in the morning through my sink when I'm in the shower," you chuckled "But I didn't want to have a conversation with you through the wall about how thin they are, I wanted to asked if you maybe wanted to come to my orchestra recital this weekend?" A beat passed and you quickly added "You don't have to if you don't want to of course! I'm not trying to force you into going or anything and I-"

Jim cut off your ramblings "-I'd love to."

•••

"A bit cliché but you were amazing!" Jim handed you over a bunch of roses by the stage door "Almost makes listening to your practicing bearable!" He joked and you lightly nudged his shoulder.

"Thank you, and thank you for coming and for the roses. They are beautiful." You admired them with a shy smile.

Jim looked at you adoringly as he watched you trace your finger over the petals. The same fingers he watched a mere half an hour ago whizz over keys faster than the speed of light during some pieces.

When you arrived back at the building, Jim invited you into his apartment to let you listen to something he had been practicing.

You sat down on the couch while he sat across from you on a stool. His living room had at five full sized guitars scattered around it- two acoustic and three electric. There was also a bright blue ukulele on the arm of the couch and plectrums everywhere. You could see that he was nervous and it made your brow furrow.

"Okay, so," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck and tuned his already tuned guitar. He couldn't help it, his trembling fingers needed something to do. "I've been working on this, it's not finished yet but...I hope you enjoy it." You watched him get comfortable before strumming a few notes and starting to sing: "When I first saw you I couldn't believe my eyes...you've got so much beauty, babe that ain't no lie. But we were both kinda stupid and were both far to proud, so the both of us couldn't help but be obnoxiously loud. Now honey I know the walls are paper thin and the drains are interconnected, but when I am around you I feel my heart is affected with nothing but the sweet sound of love...mhmm...the sweet sound of...love..." he cleared his throat and placed down his guitar "That's uh...that's all I've got..."

You stood up from the couch without saying a word. You walked over to him and he stood up "I loved it," you whispered with a smile growing on your face.

"R-really?" Jim went wide eyed before he cupped your face and kissed you "Sorry I called you a fancy ass."

You burst out laughing "Sorry I mentally called you an asshole..."

"We'll just call that getting even," you smirked at his words and kissed him again.

"You wanna come next door and make some music?" You asked.

"We gotta be be careful how loud we're making music..." Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You looked down to the ground and blushed with a coy smile "The walls are shockingly thin..."

Jim captured your lips with his "Can you can cope with me singing Elvis in the morning?"

You smirked "Only if I can be your backing singer."

"Well then," Jim wrapped an arm around you and pulled you towards your apartment "We better get our vocal chords warmed up..."

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@sleepylunarwolf @daddyharbour