i love this image because not only is it accurate but also every time i see it i subconsciously scan the image to make sure its not somewhere i know. because everywhere in england looks like this. could be literally anywhere.
notes: someone needs to seriously make an effort to bruise these guys' ego a little. the t-birds in GENERAL need to come with a warning sign saying "Will Not Show Affection in Public".
contains: danny zuko x gender neutral reader , kenickie murdoch x female reader
characters: danny zuko, kenickie murdoch, t-birds and pink ladies (briefly mentioned)
warnings: swearing, suggestive themes and dialouge
. ☁️ .
꒰ danny. ꒱
“ 'S cool with me, baby. ” Danny holds a hand around your waist, taking care not to look into your eyes. God, he could stare at them for hours. He'd live a happy life if all he ever saw was those eyes. But he can't look at you. Not now. The T-Birds stare at him, almost as if they were waiting on their leader to slip up and say something cheesy. “ I'll see you after school, beautiful. ”
You press a quick kiss to his lips, before walking off to your next class. You knew his status meant something to him, and weren't trying to put him in an annoying spot with his friends. Danny's shoulders relax as you walk off, eyes trailing after you as if he could keep you next to him with his mind.
Danny is the leader of the T-Birds, so he's held to a somewhat higher standard than the rest of the guys. Out of all of them, he's suppossed to be the most macho, the most hard-headed, and the most gutsy member all into one. In between all the turf wars and fights at school, he's the face of their gang that let's everyone know he means business.
And then you came along. You managed to break through his tough exterior and unlock a sweeter, more sensitive side of him. He couldn't help but feel like a total melvin each time he dressed up nice to bring you flowers, or when he put his best efforts into not getting fresh with you when you invited him to your place to study after school.
To him, it's all worth it. Just seeing that smile on your face is enough to keep him going through the exhaustion he feels trying to keep his pure, romantic advancements under wraps.
꒰ kenickie. ꒱
Kenickie's hand reaches dangerously close to your ass as you sit with him at The Frosty Palace. As the T-Birds and Pink Ladies chat at their shared booth, Kenickie made sure to show off that he was a certified ladies man. And what better way to show that than messing around with his girl while they ate?
“ If these jokers keep this shitty conversation up, i'll just have to take ya' home for some real fun. ” You could tell he was practically working overtime tonight. With all those notes you left in his lunch, you were more than sure he was trying to make up the jokes he was subjected to. It's not that he really cared what the guys would think, they knew he would knock them out before they had the chance to flap their gums for too long, but it was a matter of dignity!
Kenickie Murdouch would rather die than let the guys think he's gone soft. He's a rockin', smooth talkin' rebel who's all bark. At least, until he started going steady with you. He feels all mixed up, wanting to treat you nice while also having to be on the look out for the other T-Birds.
God forbid you ever give him a tender kiss in front of his friends at school, or make him quiet a quick "i love you too" when you part ways in the halls. The guys will rip on him for as long as Kenickie will take it, making obnoxious kissing noises and jokingly threaten to take his second-in-command spot.
If they push him too far, he'll switch right back into greaser mode, and threaten to knock the living daylights out of them. They shut up quickly after that.
There's been at least one instance where you and Kenickie were on a date at The Frosty Palace, sharing a milkshake. As you two are talking, he laughs, slamming his hand on the table, and the milkshake splashes on the tip of his nose. When you go to clean his face for him, the other T-Birds barge in through those glass doors. It almost feels unreal how accurate their timing is. You hear a chorus of "oooo!"s as you clean his face, trying your best to calm your boyfriend down before he loses his cool.
You don't see his walls go down often, even when you're by yourselves. Give him time.
Seeing Marcella’s love for Raggedy Ann and Andy, the little girl’s grandmother decided to send her another rag doll from her trip to Central America. Upon making it to the nursery, (Y/N) is greeted by almost all open arms,with the odd one of the bunch, Raggedy Andy, still being a bit hesitant of this new toy. After all, why does Marcella need another doll in the nursery? She had enough as it is, and he certainly didn’t want to have to put up with another one.
Are you a toon enjoyer? Do you like reading fanfics about Mickey and the gang, the Looney Tunes, and Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Are you a self shipper or an x reader fanatic? If you said yes to any of these questions, I want you to beta read my fanfic!
The Touchstone movie lot had been quiet— too quiet. It was almost as if everyone had gone home... far too unlikely for a Friday morning. There hadn't been enough time to worry about that, though. Some very important actors were supposed to make an appearance today, and nothing could go wrong. It could mean the end of your job if it did.
The studio needed money. Badly. As a company under the Disney umbrella, you would think there would be a fair amount of funding, until you consider the reason this studio never advertised it's movies under the Disney brand: All movies the higher ups didn't have much faith is were to be produced here.
And of course, you, an award winning director and writer, would be the perfect fit to bring these films into the limelight! Do you feel pressured? You should.
Rushing to make it to the visitors center early that morning, you pass by a small sign that spelled out big expectations for you. You sigh, shaking your head as you go past the security guard, growing closer and closer to the front foor. 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?' had been going through production hell, but they could at least have the decency to spell the title right... You make a mental note to bring that error up at the next meeting.
You're so close to the front entrance, just one more leap and...! Ah, you've just crashed right into someone making their way out just as you were going in. The alarm on your phone chimes, almost as if to say 'At least you made it on time?'
“ Eh, are you ok, doc? ” The person asks, reaching out to you with a gloved hand. “ You gotta watch where you're goin', or it could've been a worse fall! ”
God, the whiplash from the fall... you shake you head, trying to get rid of the sensatiom from your incoming headache. You gladly recieve the help, feeling your face begin to heat up from the sudden sense of embarrassment.
“ I've just got a very important client, who— ” You freeze, suddenly realizing who your knight in shining white polyester gloves was. Bugs Bunny.
Updates will appear on my AO3 before they're uploaded to Tumblr!
kitty and i are in need of some help,really big help, we are facing eviction and possibly homelessness if we are not able to reach our goal of 5k to pay for backrent, we're both scared because 80% of our household is disabled and everything is scary right now. please please spread this like wildfire yall. we have up until the fifth of December
Can you do headcannons for the mime time where the reader tries to make his job a little safer
☙ the mime -- reader (tries) to make his job safer
• It feels like no matter what you do, he always leaves his job with an anvil on his head.
• You knew he could take the hits. As a toon, he could withstand almost anything— falling pianos, sticks of dynamite, comically large mallets, you name it, he's survived it.
• Any time you try and express your concern he simply puffs out his chest, acting out a scene as if he was a strongman... just for him to be caught in the crossfire for some hyjinks running rampant across the movie lot.
• You scold him for not taking care of himself after, only to be met with him showing off his durability, being caught in the middle of another dangerous sitiation, you get the gist
• One day you make him wear a helmet to work. It works for a moment! A piano falls on his head, cracking in half the moment it makes contact with his helmet, leaving The Mime without a scratch! He takes it off, giving you a thumbs up for the good work!
• It's too bad he didn't see that second piano fall.
• Bubble wrap. Lots of bubble wrap. He looked something akin to a snowman, until an oversized boxer glove flew in from one of the filming sets, popping his wrap in a single blow.
• Maybe it'd be best to treat him when he's off the clock. He'll never say it outloud, but he sure does make it apparent on his face that he enjoys it when you pamper him!
Hey y'all! I've been writing off and on for this fic, and wanted to drop a bit of behind-the-scenes information.
First off, as I am both a student and a working actor, I write for this fic in between classes, rehearsals, and auditions. Thank you all for your patience thus far!
Second, this fic will be posted here and on my AO3 account, playthelaughtrack. New chapters will appear on AO3 before they are uploaded here!
And finally, I've rewritten this first chapter so many times, amd I think I've finally latched onto a start I like. That being said, if you'd like to read a non-canon, previous part of the first chapter, it will be under the cut below! I felt like it was a bit too bland of an intro for the silly tone I wanted to set, but it's an interesting read nonetheless. I hope you enjoy this little crumb while I desperately try and finish this thing lmao
______________________________
It's almost comforting, in a way to be as exhausted as you currently were. After all, less sleep meant more work was done, more hours well spent! Or, at least, that's what you liked to tell yourself. Maybe it was for your own conscience, to convince yourself that not only was horribly messing up your sleep schedule a normal thing, but also was what made you so successful.
That, or you were too tired to rationalize anything better. Probably a mixture of both.
As writers stumbled into the room, you could tell they felt the same way— eyebags, sleepy yawns, and cups of various caffeinated drinks were donned by every person present. That was the life of a working creative.
As soon as everyone is settled, you stand up from your chair at the end of the table. The room falls into a hush.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming in this morning," You begin, stepping towards the whiteboard hanging on the back wall. "I know this film's had more than a few rough spots, but we're going to pull through. You all need to be working double time— yeah, yeah, I know. Whoever groaned in the back, I felt that. But it's gotta be done! With the arrival of Bugs and Mickey—"
WIth that, you pin a piece of paper onto the board from the company CEO, ordering that the film would feature multiple cameos from big name toon stars to generate more income at the box office. The room erupts into chaos. The Bugs Bunny and the Mickey Mouse?
It wasn't uncommon, per say, to hear those two names in the same breath. The pair of faces from rival cartoon studios were constantly the main topics of cartoon critics everywhere, endlessly debating over who had the best ratings, characters, gags, merchandising… you couldn't help but wonder how the two actors personally felt about this silent competition.
A part of you felt weirdly sentimental about it. Clawing your way to the top, stepping on so many toes to get where you were, working long days and nights was just the way of life for a famous director, like yourself, to make it anywhere.
It wasn’t uncommon to antagonize other directors, writers, anyone whenever they got a little too good. But in a sense, it was almost admirable. The dedication put into every aspect of creating was enough to wear even the most determined souls down. You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought… There was business to discuss.
No use in wasting time to romanticize it.
_
You awoke the next morning to the usual sounds of falling anvils and fire alarms, taking a good look around your on-studio home— you wouldn’t consider yourself messy, but there was a good amount of takeout boxes in your trash bin accented wonderfully with stray bits of clothes scattered about. Home decor at it’s finest, really.
______________________________
Thank you for everyone who has stayed around for so long! Love you all. <33
The Touchstone movie lot had been quiet— too quiet. It was almost as if everyone had gone home... far too unlikely for a Friday morning. There hadn't been enough time to worry about that, though. Some very important actors were supposed to make an appearance today, and nothing could go wrong. It could mean the end of your job if it did.
The studio needed money. Badly. As a company under the Disney umbrella, you would think there would be a fair amount of funding, until you consider the reason this studio never advertised it's movies under the Disney brand: All movies the higher ups didn't have much faith is were to be produced here.
And of course, you, an award winning director and writer, would be the perfect fit to bring these films into the limelight! Do you feel pressured? You should.
Rushing to make it to the visitors center early that morning, you pass by a small sign that spelled out big expectations for you. You sigh, shaking your head as you go past the security guard, growing closer and closer to the front foor. 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?' had been going through production hell, but they could at least have the decency to spell the title right... You make a mental note to bring that error up at the next meeting.
You're so close to the front entrance, just one more leap and...! Ah, you've just crashed right into someone making their way out just as you were going in. The alarm on your phone chimes, almost as if to say 'At least you made it on time?'
“ Eh, are you ok, doc? ” The person asks, reaching out to you with a gloved hand. “ You gotta watch where you're goin', or it could've been a worse fall! ”
God, the whiplash from the fall... you shake you head, trying to get rid of the sensatiom from your incoming headache. You gladly recieve the help, feeling your face begin to heat up from the sudden sense of embarrassment.
“ I've just got a very important client, who— ” You freeze, suddenly realizing who your knight in shining white polyester gloves was. Bugs Bunny.
Updates will appear on my AO3 before they're uploaded to Tumblr!
☆Summary: Roger tries to give a burnt out detective a good laugh.
☆A/N: The reader uses she/her pronouns. This fic is written as platonic, but can be translated as romantic for anyone who has him as a romantic f/o 💕
☆☆
(Y/N) sat hunched over her work. This case she agreed to take is difficult, sure, but that was half the fun, right? Ask her that a few weeks ago, and she would’ve said yes. Ask her now, and be ready to hear some complaints. Working in Toontown was always a lot of laughs. Most cases were never too big, but provided a ton of mystery that always made each case satisfying to close.
That was before Judge Doom started ‘laying out the law’. Nobody really liked the guy. Always been a stickler for rules, something a toon usually didn’t follow. Now, (Y/N) knew toons weren’t bad. Most ‘crimes’ they commited were just silly slapstick gone a bit out of hand, but this particular case had a sinister air to it that seemed more human. No leads, not a fingerprint. The only thing they found was a cloth patch, but it didn’t match up with any evidence at the scene. It was almost impossible, but that’s what drew (Y/N) to the case in the first place. Besides, what good is Toontown’s resident detective if they couldn’t solve a case? Wouldn’t want that ‘100% satisfaction guarantee’ sign to go to waste, right?
Even still, the case was going nowhere. Contemplating on taking a break, (Y/N) took a long sip of her coffee. ‘No,’ she thought. ‘I’m close to making a break in this case. I can feel it.’ So, she continued to work.
Looking over her notes, boisterous singing was heard from the hallway of the building complex. In Toontown, this was normal. Toons loved to sing when they got happy, which was almost always. The voice died down once it got closer to the door. The faint tinkling of a piano, though muffled by the door, indicated that sometoon was trying their best to be sneaky. The toon’s mischievous giggles managed to wiggle their way under the crack of the door, into your office. You had a good idea of who it might be, just by the voice. Not wanting the toon to get the upper hand, you called out, “A shave and a haircut!”
Just as expected, the toon burst through the door, finishing with a joyful, “Two bits!”
No toon could resist the old shave-and-a-haircut routine, especially not Roger Rabbit.
“Listen Roger,” you said, “while I enjoy your company, this isn’t the best time. I’ve got a case, and I’m this close to figuring it all out.”
Just looking at all your work made Roger tired. He knew how hard you had been working due to countless nights where you declined his offers to stroll around town. Bags under your eyes, takeout being the sole thing inhabiting your trashcan -- he’s silly, not dense. He knew you needed a break.
“But you’ve been at it for so long!” He hopped on your desk, pulling the paper from your hand, promptly tossing it to the coffee table. “Take a break! It surely wouldn’t be that bad to just relax for the afternoon?”
A quick, tired glance in his direction perfectly articulated your response.
He guided you from your chair, seating you on the couch. “You seem stressed, but I'm sure a little laugh will help you out!”
He stretched out his face, blowing a raspberry. He pulled a coin from behind your ear, put it back, and then pulled several more from behind his ears. He jumped around the office, doing a silly dance before tripping on an old takeout box that lay on the floor, crashing into a pile of old newspapers. After getting up and dusting himself off, he rushed back to where you sat, making various silly faces, hoping one of them would be a hit. None of them were. “Boy, you sure are a toughie, aren’t ya, (Y/N)?”
(Y/N) got up from her chair, making her way back to her desk. “I know this might be hard for a toon to understand, but it’s not always time for a laugh.”
She inspected the corkboard, going through her various clues. “Take now, for example.”
Roger stood next to you, wanting to figure out some way to help. He was quickly distracted by a tear in his glove. Must have ripped it during the fall. (Y/N) noticed that too, taking a mental note to help sew it back later.
“Right now, I’m busy trying to,” She looked closer at one of the pictures on the board, “Trying to...” she continued, noticing something she had previously overlooked.
“Two?” Roger asked. “Two birds? Two shirts?”
He scratched his head. “Two bits?”
“No, Roger.” She directed his attention to a picture of one of the suspects. “Look.”
Upon closer inspection, he noticed one of the suspects with the normal white toon gloves, but with a hole in them, roughly the same size as the cloth patch they found at the scene. It was…
“Our next clue!” (Y/N) announced. “And the culprit wasn’t smart enough to take it from the scene of the crime.”
“Now that’s a laugh!” Pointed out Roger.
“You know what?” She ruffled her friend's hair tuft, laughing with excitement. “It sure is.”
☆Summary: Working in the toon business isn’t always easy. Dealing with the zaniness of one studio was already a challenge. Dealing with two, however, is a recipe for disaster. For (Y/N), it’s their job to make it work. As long as they keep calm, and keep their head in the game, they might just be able to pull this film off. I mean, if their higher-ups thought this new film, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, could include toons from Warner Brothers and Disney, how hard could it be?
☆Word Count: 1022
☆Author’s Note: This is just a silly little idea I pitched a friend that I though ya'll might enjoy. If you enjoy, be sure to comment or reblog so I know it's something I should continue! The reader uses they/she pronouns, but pronouns probably won't be used much anyways.
☆☆
The movie lot. Your home since forever. As a creative, your job on the lot was clear. Manage the actors, write funny jokes, and make your higher-ups money.
One particular summer morning, you awoke to the usual sound of falling anvils, smashed pies, and crow calls. These familiar sounds did nothing to aid the nervousness you felt -- two very famous toons, and their associates, from rivaling studios would be arriving soon. As the head of the creative team, as well as their temporary supervisor, their attention would be on you. You were supposed to hand out scripts, keep them comfortable, greet each and every one of them when they arrived -- It was going to be a long production. You glance over to your alarm clock: 7:30. A feeling of dread washed over you. You were late.
Springing up from your bed, you rushed to get dressed.
'How could I be late, today of all days?' You silently cursed yourself. 'I'm so stupid! I hope I get there on time. Can't have them waiting on me."
You grabbed your messenger bag, haphazardly stuffing it with scripts, notes, a snack, business cards, highlighters, pencils, and sticky notes. Now, you just had to make it to the head office. Thankfully, you lived on the lot, so the office wasn't very far.
You ran across the pavement as fast as you could, frantically trying to get your bag in order. You heard a voice cry out as you crashed into someone, falling onto the hard concrete.
"Eh, what's the big deal, doc?"
Realizing just who you might've ran into, your face turns into a ghostly white. You nervously glance down at the toon under you, confirming your previous suspicions: You had just fallen onto one of the very, very famous toons you were supposed to greet, Bugs Bunny.
He pulls out a carrot, and starts snacking on it. "So, uh, are you plannin' on keepin' me here all day? I've got places to be."
You quickly stand yourself up, apologizing profusely. He jumps up, dusting himself off.
"They sure do know how to give a re-memorable welcoming at this studio, that's for sure." He tuts.
You try to compose yourself. "I am very sorry for this mishap, Mr. Bunny." You try to conceal your embarrassment. As you speak, you realize that you're not doing a very good job at it. "My name is (Y/N). I am in charge of the creative teams, and your temporary supervisor, here to help guests have as smooth a stay here."
"Well," Bugs retorts, "You're not off to a good start."
A rather brash bunny, isn't he?
"Again, I do apologize," You continue. "Things do get rather hectic here. If I'm being honest, half my job is running around the lot."
"And the other half must be running into people around the lot." He snaps back.
You're left just standing there, unsure of how to reply. Bugs was silent, glaring you down for a moment, before stifling his laughter for a bit, breaking down his serious facade.
"I'm just jokin'! Little tip from one creative to another:" He raises up a finger, very matter-of-factly, "Don't take everything too seriously."
He struts past you, making his way towards the lot's main actors warehouse,where he and his crew would be able to eat complimentary food, go over lines, and relax between shoots. You followed suit.
"So, did you guys remember to leave some carrots at the food stand? I can't do a good shoot without them."
You pull out your clipboard of tasks, frantically flipping pages, making sure your team filled out that request. "Of course, Mr. Bunny."
"Please, please. Drop the formalities. Call me Bugs."
"Of course, Mr. Bugs."
Immediately after opening the doors to the warehouse for Bugs, you quickly saw how horrible of a job you were already doing. Taking a mental note to buy a new alarm clock, you saw the rest of the Looney Tunes gang already here, and chatting amongst another. Daffy Duck, an American black duck with a comedic lisp and quick temper, was the first to notice Bugs arrive.
"There he is!” He announced to the other toons. “I told you he was fine."
"Aw, c'mon Daf!" Bugs struts over to join his friends. "You weren't at least a bit worried?"
“Of course not! You always turn up at some point!”
As the toons goof around, you go over the check-in list, making sure everyone is there. It was a bit difficult, considering how lively everyone was, but you managed to get it done. Satisfied after each name being checked off, you start to make your way out the door, before Bugs stops you.
"Hey, where are ya goin'? Let me at least introduce ya' to everyone."
The other toons look your way. Bugs wraps his arm around your shoulder, showing you off.
"Guys, meet Y/N, our 'Babysitter' for this film. We, quite literally, ran our way to each other on our way here."
After making quick introductions, the alarm on your phone went off, signaling that you had somewhere else to be. You quickly slipped out the room, running back to the main office to greet your second batch of toons. Though relieved to see one of your alarms working, you were a bit upset to not think about just using another phone alarm to wake you up. No use dwelling on the past, I suppose.
You hoped the next batch of toons would be much easier to handle than the Looney gang. They haven’t caused much trouble yet, but you knew what they were capable of through stories from other film crews they were a part of. They were known to cause quite a bit of trouble, most Warner toons usually did, but that was their job, afterall. They’re just drawn that way. Disney toons, however, were always described as a pleasure to work with. They were, for the most part, very kind, good natured, and considerate. Opening the door, and getting ready for Mickey Mouse and his Friends to show up, you hoped that would be the case.
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