#this is totally not inspired by my own lack of motivation...

[gender-luster]

reblog to give the person you reblogged this from the motivation to finish a wip

#this is totally not inspired by my own lack of motivation... #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing #ao3 #fanfic

[artist-issues]

I Saw Wish

And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:

“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”

Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.

I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.

Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.

SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.

The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.

The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.

By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.

I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.

We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.

But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.

The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.

The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.

There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”

The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.

And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.

But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.

Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.

Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.

And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.

#I’ll talk more in an organized fashion later #wish #disney’s wish #wish Disney #wish 2023 #critique #spoilers

[joshym]

Lilac Moon

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary:

You’re a singer in a small, local band called Lilac Moon. You play rock and roll music with a bit of a bluesy, jazzy, r&b flair to it. You moved to Nashville with your best friend, Ivy, to pursue your dreams, leaving your families behind as they weren’t the most supportive of this endeavor.

Your band does well enough locally, even having a small group of die hard fans who love you, but you haven’t been able to go much beyond that.

You now have 2 self funded, indie label ep’s out, and currently working on your first album. However, lack of funds is making this venture quite difficult and it’s taking longer than you and the band would’ve liked. This means picking up gigs wherever and whenever the opportunity strikes. It’s mostly small, run down bars that you play, bars that are really only visited by the locals. This makes it a bit hard to get your music out there and the joy of playing has ceased due to lack of motivation.

One night, you and your band have a gig at a small, locally owned bar in East Nashville. To your surprise, all four members of your favorite band just so happen to be in the crowd.

After the show, you catch them talking with your manager.

What could this possibly mean? And why did Josh keep staring at you during the set?

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: (18+ MINORS DNI) *most of these are eventual warnings, not specifically presented in this chapter. each chapter will have it’s own specific set of warnings* angst, mentions of cheating, alcohol abuse, fighting, arrests, drug use, sexual situations, lots of eventual SMUT.

a/n: hi, everyone! ☺️ this is an idea I’ve had stuck in my head for awhile now, and I’ve finally found the time to sit down and write it. I really hope you all enjoy this little brainchild of mine. don’t be afraid to let me know what you think!

much love, lis. 🤍

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist🫶🏻)

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪ 

You decided to take a stroll through downtown Nashville by yourself this morning, clearing your head after a particularly stressful set with the band last night. Nothing worked right, from the sound system to the lighting, all the way to your tired and worn-out vocals. You had another set tonight at the same bar, and you were incredibly nervous. You needed to get some fresh air, clear your mind, and walking the streets of Nashville in the quiet of the early morning usually did the trick. 

You’re walking aimlessly, green tea with honey in hand, when you’re stopped abruptly by running into the back of someone. 

You nearly spill your tea all over the unsuspecting man you so rudely collided with. He turns around swiftly as you struggle to keep your balance. Upon turning to face you, you're left breathless. Is this….Josh? Josh Kiszka? From Greta Van Fleet? 

Greta Van Fleet is one of your favorite bands, one of your biggest inspirations. You’ve been in love with their music since the early days of From the Fires. You and your best friend followed them to countless gigs, even had a few priceless souvenirs such as some guitar picks from Jake and even a drumstick from Danny. 

You knew they lived in Nashville, but over the course of living here over the last few years, your paths somehow never crossed. You were busy, they were busy, it just never happened.

You’re completely still, stuck staring at this man whose music inspired you to chase after your dreams. 

He looks at you with a confused grin plastered to his face, and you knew then that you had to say something.

“Holy shit, I am so sorry. I totally wasn’t paying any attention. I didn’t spill this on you, did I?” 

You decided then that you wouldn’t let on that you knew who he was. You weren’t going to be that annoying fangirl that gawked at him and made him feel uncomfortable by proclaiming your love for him. So, you did your best to keep your cool, opting to just treat him like the human being he is.

“No, no not at all!” He huffed a laugh. It eased your nerves only slightly. “Just took me by surprise.”

You’re relieved that he’s so cool about it. He giggles more as he takes in your mortified expression. 

You stand there for a spell, wondering what to say, when suddenly a very loud laugh comes out of nowhere. You turn to your side to see Sammy, Josh’s little brother and the band's bassist and pianist. You then realize that he was most likely a witness to the whole thing.

“Ah, ignore my dimwitted brother. He’s high as shit at the moment.”

Sammy walks towards you both, holding two lattes that came from the small coffee shop around the corner.

You’re starting to question whether any of this is real. Josh and Sammy, here? With you? It simply can’t be.

“Here’s your oat milk latte, brother, sans dairy so your voice doesn’t turn to shit. Hey, thank you for almost sending my brother to another dimension, but you should try a little harder next time. Really get the job done.”

He pats your back as he’s praising your clumsy act, laughing as he envisions the scenario all over again. You laugh with him, but the embarrassment creeps back up on you and Josh notices.

“Sammy boy, get fucked. She barely nudged me. Besides, it would take a lot more than that to send me to oblivion. I’m quite sturdy on my feet, as you know.”

“Yeah, okay. Pretty sure you’ve been on your ass more than your feet in your lifetime.”

You all start laughing, and the boys are laughing quite loudly as you hold back a little to not embarrass yourself even more with your obnoxious, snorting laugh. 

You can’t help but notice Josh’s not-so-subtle glances at you as the two of you make eye contact multiple times. His eyes are so genuine, so sincere. You’re pretty sure you’d get lost in them if you gave yourself half the chance. 

There’s no way he’d ever be interested in me, right?

“Um, well, sorry again. I really need to pay better attention. I just zoned out completely, I guess.”

Josh giggles, making you blush.

“No seriously, it’s no big deal. What’s your name?”

“My name's y/n.”

“Well, y/n, this is my much younger, far more immature brother Sammy, and I’m Josh. It’s nice to meet you on this lovely morning.”

You laugh a little at this, not because of what he said about Sammy, but because it seems so strange to you that they’re introducing themselves so casually, like they aren’t rockstars in one of the biggest bands in the world and completely unknown to the fact like you’re one of their biggest fans. You keep up the act, not wanting to make this encounter anymore awkward for you.

“It’s nice to meet you guys, too! I, um, should probably get going. Pretty busy day. I’m sorry again. I’ll pay better attention next time!”

“Oh, next time, huh? Look Josh, she’s already planning your second date!”

“Sam, you're absolutely insufferable. I sincerely mean it, y/n. No hard feelings at all. But I’m holding you to that paying attention sentiment. Some people around here aren’t nearly as pleasant as I am.”

There was something about hearing him say your name that instantly caused the butterflies in your stomach to swarm.

He ended his statement with a wink. You smiled and looked down at your feet, attempting to hide the blush that was again creeping up on your cheeks.

“Thanks, Josh. Hope to see you guys around sometime!”

You continued your walk while waving back at the rockstar brothers, nearly crashing into yet another bystander and causing them both to laugh. 

What you didn’t know was Josh watched you walk away until you were out of sight. He was captivated by you. He loved how shy and sweet you were, and he thought it was adorable how your cheeks turned pink with almost every word he said. He knew he wouldn’t forget you, and he genuinely hoped you would bump into him again. 

“Oh, Joshua. You foolish fuck.”

“Um, pardon me?”

“She was clearly into you. You’re batshit for not asking for her number.”

“I don’t know, Sam. I think the universe might have something in store beyond our control. I don’t believe that’s the last I’ll see of her.”

“Damn hippie.”

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

You’ve been resting most of the day, drinking lots of warm tea and gearing up for the show tonight that you’d been secretly dreading. 

You love music. You love performing. You love the feeling of being on stage. Nothing compares to it. But lately, you've been in a slump. You’ve lost your confidence, your ambition. You’re quickly running out of money, and the small amount that these gigs make you and the band is hardly enough to keep you afloat.

You want to finish the album. You want to move forward from this phase in your career. It just wasn’t happening, and you felt stagnant. 

You’re not sure how much longer you can continue these bar gigs full of drunk, mindless people who couldn’t give a shit one about your art. If you have to listen to one more belligerent man yelling at you to take your top off in the middle of a heartfelt song, you might *accidentally* toss an amplifier in the general direction of said man.

You hate that you feel this way. You hate that the music has become lost in the stress of trying to make enough money to eat.

You want to go back to the beginning of it all, back to wanting nothing more than to make the music you want to make with the people you love the most. That all seems like a distant memory, a dream of a dream trapped in another lifetime.

Still yet, you tried your best and gave your all in every show. 

You were often emotional on stage as the lyrics you typically write come straight from your heart. There’s something so magical about creating a song and sharing it with the world. It’s when you allow yourself to be your most vulnerable, to truly let the music guide your spirit. 

There’s always a bet in place amongst your bandmates over whether or not you’ll cry during a set. Jokes on the ones betting that you won’t break down in tears, because 9 times out of 10, you do.

Although you still weren’t thrilled about playing in the same, lackluster bar as the night before, something about tonight felt different. You couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You somehow felt a little lighter, a little more inspired. Maybe tonight won’t be as much of a shitshow. You hoped for as much, at least.

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

You arrived at the bar around 5:00 in the evening, about two hours before the doors were set to open. You weren’t scheduled to hit the stage until 9:00, but you and the band wanted a little extra time for a soundcheck given how messy last night was.

You all start getting things set up, but it didn’t take long considering you had left most of it in place from the night before.

You’re in front of the microphone stand preparing for a mic check when the go ahead is given from the guy in the sound booth. You started singing a little melody you randomly came up with, moving your thumb up and down a few times signaling where you needed the volume set.

You never used any sort of in-ear monitors over fear of them not working properly, and you just never saw the need for them since you mostly played really small venues. This meant that the sound truly needed to be perfected at every show to ensure you could hear yourself and your bandmates properly.

Still talking to the mic, you decide to tell everyone about your encounter earlier.

“You guys will never believe who I ran into this morning. And by that I mean I quite literally ran into him, like physically bumped into his back. I wanted to crawl in a hole.”

Jay, the guitarist, (and unfortunately your ex) had to chime in with his typical rhetoric of mocking you and your not-so-graceful moments.

“Jesus, y/n. It’s a wonder they let you out on your own and not worry about whether or not you’ll be fit to sing the next day. Why is it you always find yourself in these stupid situations?”

“To be fair, it’s because you played like shit last night and I had to think of how we were going to make up for it tonight. So, I guess you could say I was a bit distracted.”

The other two in the band bust up in laughter. 

You and Jay never really rekindled your friendship after the break up, considering he cheated on you multiple times, with multiple different women.

You managed to keep things professional, because as much as you hated to admit it, he was a damn good guitar player and you two have written some wonderful pieces together. Your music just wouldn’t be the same without each other. 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough, guys. Tell us, y/n! I’m dying to know.”

Your bassist, Ivy, has been your best friend for the better part of the last decade. You two decided to leave your hometown behind and take on Nashville together, to live out your dreams. 

She wasn’t a huge fan of Jay. Never had been, if she were to be honest. She never fully approved of you two dating over fear that he’d do, well, exactly what he did. She could see right through him when you were stuck with your rose-colored glasses on. She tolerated him for the sake of the band, but you’re her best friend. More like her sister. She hated him for what he did to you.

“Okay, first let me ask you this. Who would you say my favorite band is?”

Ivy immediately stops what she’s doing and looks at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

She knows exactly where this is going. 

The two of you had gone to as many of their shows as you could before starting the band. You guys had always bonded over music, and Greta Van Fleet was a band that made your friendship even stronger. They brought out the best parts of you both.

“No fucking way.”

You just look at her with the biggest smile on your face as hers displays more and more shock.

“Are you fucking serious, y/n?” she asks with the biggest grin you think you’ve ever seen on her.

Julien, the drummer, also caught on immediately. He knows you and Ivy had a huge thing for Greta Van Fleet in the past. (still do, unapologetically)

“Oh my god, holy shit, y/n. Which one did you meet?”

“Josh. Fucking Josh. And I didn’t just meet him, I slammed into him from behind because I was off in my own world. Then Sammy came up and he-”

Ivy cuts you off with a loud gasp.

“JOSH? SAM? You’re shitting me. What were they like? What did you say?”

“Josh was so nice, so funny. And Sammy was hilarious. But I was so embarrassed and honestly completely taken off guard. I didn’t say much, just kept telling him I was sorry for invading his space that way.”

“Did you tell them about the band? About how much their music inspired us?”

“Well, no. In fact I acted like I didn’t know them at all. I didn’t want to embarrass myself even more, ya know? And I didn’t want it to turn into a shameless plug.”

“You’re much stronger than I am, y/n. I probably would’ve lost my fucking mind. I’m proud of you for keeping your composure.”

The three of you laugh as you all know damn well that Ivy was right in saying she would’ve lost her mind.

Jay then shoots you a look of pure anger as he makes his way over to you.

“What the fuck, y/n! That could’ve been our chance! They could’ve hooked us up with their people, their label, anything! You fucked us over! You didn’t even invite them to the show? Fucking ridiculous.”

“I didn’t want to bother them with that! They probably get so sick of things like that, of small bands using them to get their name out. I refuse to be that person. We’re not that desperate, Jay.”

“You’re so selfish, you know that?”

With that he storms off, leaving you and the rest of the band in complete silence.

Julien walks up to you, wrapping you in a big hug. A world famous, Julien hug.

“Don’t listen to him, y/n. You did the right thing.”

Julien is the peacekeeper in the group, and whenever trouble brews he’s usually the first to ease the tensions.

He followed Jay to try and alleviate some of his anger so that you all could have a proper soundcheck.

“God, he’s a prick. Why do we keep him around again, y/n?”

You huff out a laugh while you’re adjusting your mic stand to the perfect height. 

“When you find another guitarist with half his skill, let me know and we’ll drop him. Until then, I think we’re stuck, Ivy.”

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

7:30 pm

You had run through a pretty successful soundcheck and had now gone backstage to your respective dressing rooms to get ready.

You and Ivy typically shared a room so you both could share makeup and stage clothes. You liked to coordinate with each other for performances.

The rooms were small and dingy, and they wreaked of old cigarettes and stale beer. They also barely had any lighting so you two had to use the flashlights on your phones to be able to see to do your makeup. 

Tonight, you had decided on a black leather mini skirt with black tights and a strapless black bandeau top with a sheer bell sleeved crop top over it that tied in the front. You chose a pair of black doc martens to complete the look, along with your insane number of necklaces that you stacked with precision.

Ivy chose a low cut, short black dress that hugged her curves in the perfect way. She was a lot more graceful in heels than you, so she donned a pair of black leather knee high boots with a 4 inch heel. She added the finishing touches with her necklaces that perfectly matched yours.

You both had done your hair in messy curls with tons of volume, and your makeup each consisted of a sultry, smokey eye with nude lips.

You both looked damn good. 

The guys typically opted for a more casual stage look, usually jeans with some sort of ripped up t-shirt. They didn’t seem to care quite as much as you and Ivy.

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

8:55 pm

“You guys have 5 minutes! Better be ready or I’ll have your asses!”

Joe is the ‘unofficial’ manager of Lilac Moon. He’s basically everyone's dad who is there to keep you all in line. He’s technically retired from the music business, having been everything from a producer and a sound technician, to a member of multiple different groups, playing just about every instrument under the sun. He’s a bit of a jack of all trades, you could say.

He barely gets paid, but he doesn't mind. He enjoys the music and loves being the mentor for the group. He isn’t afraid to tell it straight, but he always has a loving intent. 

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

9:03 pm

Jay and Julien are already on stage ready to go, keeping the crowd entertained while you and Ivy finish up some last minute touches to your stage looks. It’s not uncommon for you two to be the last ones to make it out.

“Y/n! Ivy! It’s past nine, let’s go! You look fine, now get yourselves out there!”

“Shit. Sorry, Joe! We’re ready!”

You and Ivy finally hit the stage to roaring applause as your local fans are excited to see you both.

Ivy quickly grabs her white Hofner violin bass, already plugged in and ready to be played.

You make your way to the mic and start talking to the crowd, making some of your famous (more like infamous) jokes to warm up the audience. 

You look back and nod at the band, signaling that you’re ready. At last, the bar is filled with the sounds of Lilac Moon. 

The crowd is quite loud and excited tonight. You all feed off of their energy perfectly as you play your music. You changed the set a bit from the night before, so everything felt fresh and new. It was going so much better than last night, and you felt the love radiating from the crowd in ways you never had before.

 ♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪   

9:47 pm

You’re at the part of the night that your set typically slows down, doing a few softer, ballad-like songs. 

You had been working on a new song for awhile. It was loosely based on your experience with Jay. You hadn’t performed it yet, knowing you would be entirely too emotional, but you decided that tonight was the night for it. You were ready. 

Before you and Jay split up, he had been teaching you guitar so you could eventually play a little on stage with him. Well, since you broke up, you’ve not really wanted to pick up the instrument again. This new song, though…it requires a bit of backing rhythm guitar, meaning you’re the one that needs to play it.

You walked to the guitar stand to pick up your baby blue epiphone les paul that you bought yourself second hand several years ago. This is the first time you’ll be playing it on stage, and you’re nervous.

“If you’ve been to a Lilac Moon show before, you know this is, um - a bit out of the ordinary.”

The crowd laughs as you get your guitar set up comfortably. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve been practicing. But if it sounds like shit, just blame Jay.”

You glance at him with a smirk as he throws a matching one right back at you.

Right as you're about to strum the beginning chords of the song, you notice a familiar set of faces in the crowd, albeit faces you’ve never seen at one of your shows before.

You’re completely still as you lock eyes with none other than Josh. To say you’re stunned is an understatement. 

He looks just as shocked as you, with a large, confused smile gracing his face. There’s no way he remembers you, right? No - no way in hell. 

To make matters worse, the whole band is here. They’re with other people whom you can only assume are friends of theirs, possibly their security team or management. 

You’re not sure how long they’ve been here as the lights pointing to the stage have been far too bright to make out any faces in the crowd up until this point, save for the ones who were right up against the stage.

If you had to guess, you’d say they’ve been here the whole time. Now you’re really nervous. And you’re about to play guitar for the first time in front of a crowd-in front of them. 

It’s too late to back out now, and with your bandmates looking at you with subtle confusion, you decide to just go for it.

“This is a new song we’ve been working on, it’s still a bit of a work in progress so bare with us. It’s called “Alone Again.”’

The crowd gets excited at the thought of new music and you’re happy with the reaction.

The song begins. You start strumming the chords and singing, already feeling the emotions rise.

Don’t you dare start crying, y/n. Not in front of them.

The bridge of this song is passionate, serving as the climax to the eventual heartbreak the song ends with. 

You’re really worked up, unable to control the emotions any longer.

You step away from the mic briefly as you gather yourself during the chorus, Ivys’ backing vocals taking over. Julien watches you with concern as his drumming increases to a wild pace. 

You gain your composure and step back in front of the mic, singing with so much fervency. 

The song ends strong. The crowd is the loudest they’ve been this whole night.

You did it. You fucking did it.

You set your guitar back on the stand and grab the mic.

“What’s a Lilac Moon show without a little emotional breakdown from yours truly, am I right?”

You do this sometimes to lighten the mood a bit, when it all becomes a bit too heavy for your liking. You laugh with the crowd as you all prepare for the final song.

“Let’s get a little louder, shall we?”

The audience cheers as you perform the last song. It’s an upbeat, good old fashioned rock and roll song that never fails to garner a strong reaction from your fans.

You glance every so often to see the famous rock stars dancing and having a great time. 

You can’t believe it. They seem to be enjoying themselves, listening to your music. You would have never in a million years seen this coming.

You finish the song to loud, boisterous applause as you all make your way off stage.

You quickly run up to Ivy to ask her if she saw what you saw, but you’re cut off by the loud chanting of “ENCORE” coming from the audience.

“What the hell? They want an encore?”

You’re surprised as this has never happened before.

“Well shit, kids. Get back out there! Give the people what they want!”

Joe is practically shoving you guys back on stage. You’re all in utter shock as you make your way back out. 

The cheering is almost deafening as you begin another song. 

You’re filled with so much love and excitement as you can feel it emitting from the people in the audience. You feel fulfilled, you feel happy. 

As you’re performing your encore, you can’t help but notice that it seems the boys and their entourage are no longer in the crowd. 

You’re betting they just wanted to leave before the after-show chaos ensues, but you can’t help feeling like maybe they just weren’t impressed enough to stick around for the encore.

You quickly shove those thoughts down to give the audience the best you can give. It was the perfect ending to this amazing show. You guys even decide to throw in your own little rendition of Me and Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin, a crowd favorite cover of yours.

Julien tosses his drumsticks to the crowd as Jay follows suit with a few guitar picks as you exit the stage for the final time.

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪ 

10:24 pm

You’re all backstage again, full of pure adrenaline.

Julien runs around hugging everyone and gives you and Ivy enthusiastic kisses on your foreheads.

“Holy shit, guys! I think that’s the best we’ve ever been! Where’s Jay?”

Ivy rolls her eyes and looks at you before responding.

“He’s probably already at the bar on his third or fourth drink. You know how he is; the drinking binge begins as soon as he’s done with his responsibilities to the band.”

You’re not interested in talking about Jay. You have to ask them if they saw the guys in the audience.

“Did you guys see who was out there tonight? I almost lost my shit.”

“What? No, who are you talking about?”

Julien is a bit confused, but Ivy saw them too.

“Holy shit, y/n. What the hell were they doing here? I thought you said you didn’t tell them about us?”

“I didn’t, I swear! I’m just as confused as you are!”

You both hug each other, laughing and trying to make sense of it all.

Julien has already moved on from the conversation, making his way to the bathrooms.

You start to head back to your dressing room to gather up your things when a thought enters your head.

Where’s Joe? He’s always waiting on the side of the stage for us, always there when we exit. Why wasn’t he there after the encore?

As you turn the corner, you see him.

“Joe! There you are! Did you see-”

You then realize that he’s not alone. He’s talking with some people, but not just any people.

He’s talking with Josh, Jake, Sammy and Danny, and the people they came to the bar with were also part of this conversation.

You stop dead in your tracks.

What the hell are they doing back here? And why are they talking to Joe?

“Y/N! Holy shit, you sly dog, you!”

Sammy runs up to you and embraces you in the kind of hug you give to someone you’ve known your whole life. You eagerly hug him back. You can’t believe he remembers you.

Here comes Josh with a huge, toothy smile on his face.

“Hey, y/n!

He pushes Sammy to the side so he can have his turn giving you a hug. He sways you back and forth in his arms a bit and you practically melt under his touch. You feel you could stay in the safety of his arms for the rest of your life. 

He breaks the embrace but keeps his hands planted on your shoulders.

“You know it’s funny, but I can’t seem to recall you telling us you’re in a band. A fucking incredible one, at that!”

“I-I guess I just didn’t think to mention it. What on earth are you guys doing here? I feel like bars like this aren’t really your speed?”

Danny starts to make his way over to you, leaving Jake and their team with Joe to finish the conversation.

“Daniel here has been trying to get us to come and see this band he’s been digging for a while now and we finally agreed. Had I known how fantastic you were, I wouldn’t have hesitated!”

“I don’t know why you idiots haven’t learned by now that you should always trust my music taste.”

Danny introduces himself to you, and you’re once again in shock. 

Danny knows your band? He actually digs your music? 

“I swear every time I see you guys, you blow me away! Truly great stuff.”

How many shows has he been to??

“Oh my god, thank you so much. I’m not even sure what to say. I mean, you guys are incredible and I’m a huge fan. I wouldn’t have ever expected you all to be here and-”

Your rambling is cut short by Josh removing his hands from your shoulders, displaying a look of slight concern mixed with a smirk.

“Wait, you’re a fan of us? You could’ve fooled me! Why didn’t you act like it when we met you this morning?”

Shit. Your act is up.

“Well, I guess I was just in shock and didn’t want you to think I was just another crazed fan who just so happened to run into you accidentally-on-purpose, you know? I swear, it truly was an accident.”

Josh starts giggling at you, seeing that familiar look of embarrassment flushing your face again.

“Oh trust me, y/n. I have no doubt it was an accident. You looked like you saw a ghost or something.” 

He grabs your arm, letting you know it’s okay and that you can relieve some of your visible tension.

“So what are you guys doing back here? What were you talking to Joe about?”

About that time, you hear a high pitched shrill coming from behind you. You instantly know it’s Ivy. 

She runs up to you and the guys and introduces herself to them. She’s having a hard time hiding the fact that she’s a major fan, and you can’t help but laugh at her and her enthusiasm as she hugs them.

Joe, Jake and the people accompanying them start to make their way over to you all.

Jake gives his brothers a confirming nod.

“We’re all set, boys. I suppose we just need the official ‘okay’ from the band.”

Jake glances your way, his cheekbones high on his face and he smiles at you both. 

You and Ivy look at each other with genuine confusion as you can’t figure out what the hell is going on. You both look to Joe for some answers as he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/n, Ivy, the boys and their management have asked me if you would like to join them on the road for the first half of their next tour starting in July. Thoughts on this, ladies?”

You’re both at a loss for words. They want you to join them? What? Is this actually happening?

You instantly look at Josh who appears to be anxiously awaiting your answer as he chimes in.

“You see, we’re down an opener for the first part of the tour, and that’s why Daniel wanted us to come watch you guys tonight. He figured you all would be perfect for the job, and I agree. So what do you say? Care to join us on this audacious trip?”

“Oh my god..I-I mean we’ll have to check with Julien and Jay but, I don’t see why not! That sounds amazing! I can’t believe it, you want us?”

“Josh absolutely insisted on it as soon as you walked out on stage. In fact he could hardly keep his eyes off you, isn’t that right, bro?” Sammy says as he nudges your shoulder and throws you a wink.

You look at Josh to see that his cheeks are the ones burning red this time.

Julien is practically sprinting down the hall when he figures out who’s backstage with you.

“What’s up, guys? Huge fan of your stuff, seriously. So sick to see you here!”

He gives them all handshakes that turn into his notable hugs.

“Hey Jules, they just asked us to join them on the road this summer. Think that’s a good idea?” you ask him as he’s instantly making friends with the other drummer.

“Are- are you fucking serious? Of course I do! No way, man!”

You all break out in laughter as he makes yet another round of handshakes and hugs to show his gratitude.

Josh moves a little closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bumping your hip with his playfully.

“So, it’s settled then, y/n?”

You look at Ivy as she’s vigorously nodding her head up and down, tears in her eyes as she’s struggling to contain her excitement.

“I think that’s a resounding yes!”

to be continued...

Chapter 2

join the taglist!

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪ 

taglist: @jakeyt​​

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sammy kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #josh fic #lilac moon

[whumpbump]

Inspired by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

Prompt #2624

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Whumpee woke up for the first time without screaming in days. The sun filtered through onto Whumpee’s blanket and danced as the wind tickled the curtains. ‘Today will be a good day.’

Caretaker helped Whumpee get washed and dressed. They sat together in a calm silence as music played quietly in the background.

A knock shattered the peacefulness. “W-were you expecting someone?” Whumpee hated how their voice cracked in fear.

Caretaker, before answering the door, mentally prepared themself for whoever could be there while peering through the peephole. It was Whumpee’s Team Leader. Looking back at Whumpee in confusion, they opened the door so they could all see each other.

Team Leader shifted uncomfortably in their spot. “Uh. Hi. Caretaker. Whumpee. It’s been awhile. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me but there are some things I’d like to speak about today if possible.”

Whumpee nodded and waved Team Leader in.

“I’ll make tea.” Caretaker shuffled off to the kitchen quickly, clattering around as they grabbed mugs and the kettle.

“Whumpee, I know I haven’t seen you since your last mission, I’ve been kept so busy with retraining the team and paperwork that I just couldn’t make it to the hospital.”

“Um, I was in the hospital and then rehab for a total of 8 weeks.”

“Yyyeeeaaahhh,” Team Leader dragged out their answer, “I really wasn’t able to have any extra time and your screw up lost the Team any off-base privileges for a month.”

“Sorry - my screw up?”

Realizing what had just come out of their mouth, Team Leader shut their eyes and mentally cursed themself for letting it slip.

Sighing, they doubled down. “Yeah. Your screw up. If you didn’t get cold feet when I told you to run, you wouldn’t have been caught, you wouldn’t have been beaten in interrogation, we wouldn’t have had to waste time and resources on trying to find yo-“

“I escaped on my own. You wasted your time and resources for nothing.” Whumpee interrupted, losing patience with this impromptu meeting.

“Which we didn’t know. You failed to notify the Team or even the Organization that you’d escaped and didn’t need further assistance.”

Fuming, Whumpee spit through clenched teeth, “I needed help. I asked for extra training. Do you remember what you told me? Actually, let me remind you because I’ll never forget it. You said ‘If you need extra training, then you shouldn’t be on this team’ -“

“I was giving you tough love. You could’ve succeeded, y’know. If you would’ve just listened to me, you were on the track to promotion for First Officer.”

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore does it? I can only assume you came to take back my badge and key swipe, yes?”

“Yes.”

Whumpee groaned while standing, and crutched their way to the bedroom. Returning with the items needed, they dropped them on the table within reach of Team Leader.

Not ready to let go of antagonizing their former teammate, Team Leader pressed on. “So are you enjoying your cushy new lifestyle?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s much better than the one I had before.” Whumpee stared at Team Leader with a neutral expression, tired of the conversation and Team Leader’s lack of niceties, if lack meant never having any at all.

Flustered by Whumpee’s calm demeanor to what should have crushed them, Team Leader reached into their memories back to a counseling session in which Whumpee had divulged their biggest fear.

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Team Leader’s mouth opened and closed. That was Whumpee’s biggest hurdle. Their greatest motivator. Team Leader knew they could hold it over their head and get the results they wanted. This is not how their exit interview was supposed to turn out. They would not be made a fool by their subordinate.

Opening their mouth to speak, they were cut off by Whumpee.

“I know you thought I would be hurt by you saying that. I did too, but I’m not hurt. I’m relieved. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry anymore about whether I’ll live or die at any given moment, that you have no power over me anymore, that Caretaker has my back. Like, actually has my back.”

“Well congratulations. I’ll be going.”

Team Leader picked up the badge and key swipe and shut the door behind them.

Entering the room, Caretaker brought basket of tea bags. “I have LOTS of flavors to choose from, wh-hey where’s Team Leader?”

“They couldn’t stay. They just came by to collect my badge and stuff.”

“Oh. Oh Whumpee, I’m so sorry. I know being on that Team meant a lot to you.”

“It was nothing but status and danger. I’m much happier here with you. And I’ll have Darjeeling, thanks.”

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump #whump inspiration #whump tropes #caretaker x whumpee #bad team leader #bad team members

[anotherblblog]

Dead Friend Forever episode 12 blurb/series retrospective

wellllllllllllllllllllll that was the goriest, slasheriest, kill 'em-ness I've seen in Thai or any bl series

the episode was kinda short and the pacing made it seem rushed but not I'm sure if I really felt rushed or if it was just a breakneck pace

I do like that a lot of the theories and wishes weren't achieved/realized and the series still feels good. Like I know I wanted White and TanNew to live and at times Jin and Phee too but all of them ending up in this ceaseless purgatory slaughterhouse is kinda fitting. Non couldn't escape his fate due to the actions of others and the rest of the group couldn't escape the fallout aka TanNew's life implosion and his pursuit of vengeance for his brother and family

Cuz like yeah White, it truly seems, was just at the wrong place and wrong time. The theories and sentiment of White being part of some Perth and TanNew third killer ace in hole was nice and could have worked but it didn't happen and I don't feel the show really lacked for it

Like we saw one of the masked killers with crutches and the killer always had a maybe magic, maybe mundane vibe the show liked to play with. So perhaps Non really did survive somehow or maybe he just really had a rather unmarkable end after his harrowing captivity and enslavement

anywho standouts for the episode and series -

TanNew going full slasher - lovely, wonderful, great job Mio. You sold and I bought. And as an elder sibling, bitch I don't necessarily condone your behavior but I motherfucking understand you and also why you were Phee were destined to have a falling out. Phee did geniunely love and care for Non but the information that Phee had because Non specifically and intentionally lied to Phee meant that Phee could ultimately move on with Jin but TanNew was frozen in that grief and by Phee interrupting TanNew's attempt, Phee sealed his own fated too

Jin's hallucation montage - kinda campy in a good way and also like really modern. Like this type of voyuerism enabled by modern technology is really scary. Like gays have been fucking and sucking in bathrooms since before bathrooms were existed and will continue to (and last night at this bar I was at - there were several gays keeping me from peeing because they were fucking in the bathroom stall). So I compare how the leaked sex tape was used in this series with Only Friends and I do feel DFF really did that subplot and theme so much better

The first third of ep 12 aka the slaughter house - like it's a series so total suspension of disbelief to let the series tell me that Top can get shot in the stomach (or near enough) after a series of beatings and days of high stress and still have the gas in the tank for a final fight. But the tension and motivations were really high and going from the joker class clown who kinda started a lot of the Non ends up a slave plot by Top breaking Por's camera and Fluke mister always trying to keep my hands clean but always being near and having the truth but not sharing taking themselves out together was obvious symbolism to me and still really good. Then going from that to Tee being made to inadvertently kill his lover and the person who inspired him to better himself while White's last images are his boyfriend who he like 3 minutes ago learned was a really massive piece of shit and a victim and victimizer and (I don't know about Thai laws and accidental death or manslaughter and all that) but learning your bf is connected and inarguably one of the biggest participants in this Non situation surely must have not felt good, then he stabs you while you think it's because you're not pretty. Madness and chaos and really cool scene.

Phee, Phee, Phee, our series lead - overall I think Ta did a fantastic job. Like so many times, he would enter a scene and I would think "this dude has stage presence" - highlight of him was the revealation he was Non's boyfriend as he saves Non from his attempt. That episode and the one prior with this abscene were fine and good but when he came back onscreen, it was like, yeah, you've got IT. Now the finale arc with him is frustrating because of the discourse and the piety of people and shipping. Yes Non was groomed. Por is the closest person in series to call out the massive inappropriateness of Keng and Non. But it is critical to point out, that Phee did not know about that and saw Non being hugged and comforted by Keng, so he made the deduction that Non was hot for teacher. And then the disappearance and police stuff happened and Phee was motivated to find the truth. He was fueled by his own guilt at his last words to Non but even as he was trying to find Non, as he told his dad, he wasn't sure how he felt about forgiving Non because Non told Phee to his face there was nothing wrong and then Phee watches Non and Keng fucking. So yeah, it makes sense he could could join in on TanNew's plan but he didn't have the same stakes that TanNew did.

The mean girl messy clique worked because you saw that it was largely a friend of convenience for them and you had two different type of alpha girls (Por and Tee) and then a lacky Top and two people who seemed to be voting for the leopard eating face party because they didn't want their own faces ate

The heat was decently high and the NC scenes were really good, that ass slap is iconic

Lows

we didn't get enough with Jin. He was arguably the 2nd or 3rd most "important" character to this maybe and we just didn't get enough of him or his character for him to be fully realized for me

Overall BoC's second series was really good. I think they avoided the sophomore slump.

Maybe the dead friend forever is the friends we made along the way

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #dff the series #dead friend forever episode 12

[istadris]

Some thoughts and theories after watching Hazbin Hotel :

Thoughts :

All in all, I think that compared to its premise, the show was...mild ? I feel like the season could have benefited a lot from more episodes to help flesh out the characters. Each main protagonist and antagonist just got one episode before we rush to the final episode battle and I feel it wasn't enough to care about them. Take Charlie's demon lambs Razzle and Dazzle. They're barely present on screen, their names are only given a couple of episodes before the end and I don't even know if it was Razzle or Dazzle who was killed...so I have trouble having any emotional emotion to his death apart from "aw shucks, I guess"

Likewise, the cannibal colony episode felt very rushed. In one episode everyone is introduced and then rallies to Charlie. At least with Carmilla we got a previous episode where her character, motivations and agenda was fleshed out before she was brought back in the last episodes.

The Vees better play an important role in next season. In this one they just show up, establish a conflict, and then...do nothing ? Velvette claims to have an attack plan+ knows Carmilla is hiding something but doesn't do anything with it, Vox has it out for Alastor but only watches from his couch the final battle...at least Valentino's conflict with Angel is clearly established and further clarified with his following interactions.

All in all, I feel like the antagonistic songs (Stayed Gone, Respectless, Hell' Greatest Dad, You Didn't Know) were more catchy and entertaining than the rest. With some exceptions. But maybe I'm just a sucker for villain songs or duets where each character fights. But Charlie's songs felt ...okay at best. Not for the lack of good singing from the actress, far from that. They mostly felt like the rug could be swept from under her feet at any time, while in comparaison Alastor's songs always felt like he owned every single second of them.

Ah, Alastor. My beloved. He's by far the most entertaining part of this show, partly because he's staying relevant in every single episode (while Angel Dust, Husk and Sir Pentious fell a bit in the background after their one-episode arc), and also because in a story where everyone's motives and goals are clear and for all to see, he remains a complete enigma. How much of his behaviour is him actually caring for Charlie and how much of it is him playing everyone like pawns for his goals ? It's a constant guessing game and it keeps you on your toes.

Charlie could definitely use more moments where she doesn't end up being "rescued" in one way or the other. Sure, they acknowledged that her kindness was a powerful weapon by inspiring others to die for her cause...but even when she gets angry at Adam, or shows him mercy after beating him, something comes along and takes away her moment of glory. Hope she gets better.

Vaggie best girl though. I totally relate to how she wants to protect Charlie from everything.

But for real, people devoted to hating on every single aspect of the show ...could do better with their time. Why are you so mad at everything. It's not that serious.

And now for the theories :

I think Alastor's contract is held by Lillith and it involves not being able to talk about her disappearance, but also depowering him a lot. He implies strongly that his own smile is a way to hide his own weaknesses, and while he's still strong enough to crush small-time sinners, threaten Husk (who's bound to him by his own deal) and frizz Vox' signal, I think he couldn't repeat his Overlord massacre from before. Which he is very careful to not let anyone know about; presenting instead the façade of the all powerful Radio Demon.

I think his real reason to help Charlie is because he knows Lillith is hiding in Heaven. Either Charlie managed to redeem Sinners, which gives him a way to plant spies inside and gather intel, or she goes to war against Heaven; if she wins , she manages to break the doors to Heaven (and Alastor can get inside), but if Heaven is forced to take a stand, Lillith has to intervene.

In every case, Alastor is winning.

And in the meantime, Alastor is also carefully grooming Charlie into a leader (and the heir to the throne of Hell). Her powers are growing with her confidence and Alastor is playing the long game, carefully waiting for the moment he can take advantage of that power. He already has a favor; I'm ready to bet it's for Charlie to break her contract.

His breakdown at the end of the season is hard to decipher...but in my opinion, it's mostly that he realizes how high the stakes are : he almost died to Adam, all in the name of playing Charlie's trusty ally. Was it worth it ? Does he have to keep playing the good guy when his clipped power isn't a match against Heaven's strongest ? And maybe, maybe he is growing fond of the hotel residents and is starting to freak out about that. But he soon reassures himself : it's all in the name of the long game, and once he's done fretting about these pesky feelings of friendship, nothing will get in his way.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers

[harrytea]

I have studied a lot about psychology and mind studies, and I am almost certain that H fits into Mihaly's flow theory. "Flow theory predicts that a person needs to remain challenged and, at the same time, use their maximum skills to achieve greater performance. This combination would lead to intrinsic satisfaction, whether in professional or personal life. Mihaly describes flow as: A mental state that occurs when a person performs an activity and feels totally absorbed in a sensation of energy, pleasure and total focus on what they are doing." "The elements of Flow theory are related in the discussion about mathematical anxiety, such as: the notion of being in control; the loss of consciousness contrasted with the lack of self-awareness; past mistakes that affect objectives, impairing attention and interfering with deep concentration, etc"; Maybe this is one of the reasons for his love bomb right at the beginning of his relationships, or maybe how he turns into a clone of his current girlfriend, gradually transmuting into her, whether in the way of speaking/expressing himself, in style, in his interests and tastes, all this to have a certain control over her and the situation itself. And when he realizes that he can't maintain this flow, because let's face it, it's something very exhausting (and a little problematic), he "freaks out", and that's when the entire fandom and the GP notices him distancing himself from the girl of the moment. Having said all this "thesis", I think he is seriously a person without his own personality, and always needs a 'muse' to be inspired (copy), and I think the only way for him to be a person with his own tastes and personality is he really spends some time alone, accompanied by a good therapist (not a "professional" who mixes his personal and professional life and even goes to the client's shows), and looks at himself and you know? see if the money and fame are really worth the hollow/emptiness inside. well, that's my view of him, I know I don't know him personally so I could be completely wrong and he's a super deep guy and such, but being a fan of his since the 1D days, he just seems more and more like a person every day. empty bag of feelings and motivations. I hope this Bible of mine serves as a good topic of discussion and perhaps even reflection for someone who needs it. (and sorry for the broken English lol, I speak a few languages ​​but none of them are English)

.

[cdyssey]

Blueberry Pie

Summary: Melissa brings Barbara a blueberry pie as an apology. [Post-1.02] | CW: Emotional Infidelity

AO3 Link

Barbara is already in the teacher’s lounge when Melissa arrives, standing by the kitchen counter, swirling her stupidly sweet coffee with a plastic spoon. It’s just her, no one else quite yet, and Melissa allows herself to be greedy, etching the uncomplicated moment in her mind like it’s something more than it actually is.

Like it’s a painting, and all of its thousands of brushstrokes are divinely inspired by God.

Barbara Howard, the radiant subject, in early morning sunlight, suffused in its heavenly glow. Dark hair elegantly swept to the side, her beloved pearls flush against the graceful column of her neck. Light and shadow in beautiful opposition to each other. A study in different values.

Chiaroscuro.

She’s gone for warm-tones today with a calico-print shirt that rides beautifully over her hips but also, too, with the golden hoops that delicately dangle from her ears. Amaranth lips. Dusk colored eyes. A flash of white as she smiles at Melissa with all of her shining teeth.

The second-grade teacher involuntarily shivers. If there currently wasn’t a record breaking heat wave in Philadelphia, she might have had the grounds to blame the February cold. 

“You didn’t,” the kindergarten teacher scolds by way of greeting, gesturing at the Tupperware caught between Melissa’s hands. 

“Did what?” She grins innocently, closing some of the space—the unbearable gap—between them. She sets her heavy bag on their roundtable, places the plastic container there too. Her last name is scrawled across the top in faded Sharpie. 

“A blueberry pie?” Barbara arches an immaculate brow. “My birthday is next month, I know you very well know.”

“Oh, pfft,” she rolls her eyes like she's perfectly unbothered. She crosses her arms over her chest. She shrugs. Her cheeks still feel a little too rosy for comfort anyway. “Can’t a gal make her coworker her favorite pie for no good reason?” 

“Absolutely not,” the other woman just as immediately counters, emphatically shaking her head. “Or, more accurately, ‘for no good reason’ is far from an acceptable excuse when I know for a fact you had plans with your family last night. Girlfriend, when did you have time to do this? More to the point, why did you find time to do this?”

Leave it to Barbara to turn a simple gesture of kindness into a pointed interrogation of motivation and minutiae. Melissa knows she’s bad about accepting the generosity of others, but at least she’s not the older woman three feet away, unable to receive a gift without extensively litigating whether she deserves it. It’s a degree of reflexive self-denial that her friend would be the first to call Christian and Melissa secretly thinks is pretty damn self-loathing. 

“It’s an apology,” she grunts, undeterred. At the same time, not entirely good at this whole vulnerability thing, she briefly glances away, scratching the side of her nose: “I threw you smack dab into the wall yesterday over a lousy branzino.”

When she finally works up the guts to look at the older woman again, Barbara’s eyes have incrementally softened, the crow’s feet around them gently flexing their tensed toes. Melissa hates that—being so thoroughly seen, canvassed, and understood by another.

She kinda freakin' loves it too.

“I’m sure it would have been a remarkable dish,” Barbara offers kindly before chuckling a little.

“… more, well, fortuitous circumstances permitting.”

Which is a polite way of saying that yesterday was a total clusterfuck without actually saying that yesterday was a total clusterfuck. Her fish wasn’t the only casualty of poor Janine trying to make the school a better place.

“Oh, it would’a kicked ass,” Melissa agrees, smirking at her friend’s trademark discretion and simultaneously basking in the stunning lack of her own. “Blown Annette’s stupid cacio e pepe outta the water.”

“I know you certainly achieved your goal of looking cuter than her, though.”

“Damn straight I did! I was a flippin’ smoke show.”

“Naturally,” Barbara hums in a low voice. It's sensual. It's just for fun. Barbara is only a friend. Melissa's stomach still does a little flip anyway.

"Thanks, kitten," she quips in the same affected tone.

And they both heartily laugh then, giggle even. Of course they do—flirting is one of their favorite ways of showing their love—and Melissa knows that all is forgiven by the way that Barbara’s dimples twitch at the corners of her beautifully shaped mouth. 

There’s a small part of her that thinks that maybe she's getting off a little too easily, that forgiveness is something she shouldn’t be so freely gifted as reckless as she was, as inconsiderate and as rude. But she supposes that’s the Christian talkin’ in her too, or hell, more specifically still, that good, 'ole Catholic guilt of never feeling like she’s good enough—always one confession shy of any kind of meaningful absolution.

She shrugs the itchiness away, though—plays it off like it hasn't gotten under her skin.

She laughs and Barbara does too, and in doing so, give each other permission to get on with their lives. They have traditions to uphold, sixteen-year long habits that have long been encoded into their systems.

Melissa slumps into her favorite chair, her body partially angled towards the open door, while Barbara fixes another coffee—black, just the way the second-grade teacher likes it—and brings both mugs to the altar of their shared table. She assumes her own seat with more delicacy in the motion than Melissa contains in her pinky finger, ankles crossed, posture unimpeachable. Melissa turns the break room television on and clicks the remote a couple of times until she finds the Action News channel. That annoying commercial for the local Toyota dealership is currently on, the one with a father and son duo clearly reading from a corny-ass script on a teleprompter. She grunts impatiently at the inconvenience, and Barbara snickers because she does. 

They accidentally brush legs as they’re both shifting around, and they mutually pretend not to notice.

(Melissa’s running theory is that if they pretend not to notice, then continuing to do it remains innocent.)

(Permissible even.)

“You really shouldn’t have, you big, ‘ole teddy bear,” Barbara tries again, though she directly undermines herself by drawing the Tupperware to her and unlatching the lid to clearly get a better look. It’s an extraordinarily easy pie to make: cream cheese, powdered sugar, and whipped cream all mixed together, a fresh blueberry topping and a baked graham cracker crust. Chill overnight. Serve cold. It was no skin off Melissa’s back at all, and it’s always worth it for this very moment, for the treat of seeing her best friend’s entire face light up in unadulterated pleasure.

“You should have spent the time and necessary resources upstaging your cousin.”

“Bah,” she snorts, playfully batting Barbara on the arm. “I got plenty of time for that. I just wanted t’do something nice for you, ya stubborn gagootz.”

She lets the rather schmaltzy note linger—far longer than she usually would—only realizing that her friend is blushing when she turns a little and the sunlight slanting through the blinds glints off her darkened cheeks, transforming her entire physiognomy into something angelic, which is to say transcendent and holy.

Melissa swallows thickly.

“Now, uh, quit your bellyaching and enjoy some of your pie,” she adds gruffly, reaching into the basket on the center of their table and grabbing a plastic fork that she all but lobs at Barbara.

The older woman laughs incredulously as she stops the utensil from skidding off the table just in the nick of time. “At”—she glances at her silvery wristwatch—”seven o’clock in the morning? Are you out of your mind, girlfriend?”

“My old noggin’s perfectly intact thank you very much,” she huffs, retrieving a fork for herself. “I just know life’s about indulging in the simple pleasures every once in a while.”

Crackin' open a cold beer after a long day at work.

Staring at her married coworker from a distance that won’t get her in trouble with Gerald Howard and God.

Thinking she’s all beautiful, gilded in shining sun.

Accidentally brushing shoulders.

Thighs. Ankles. Knobbly, arthritic knees.

Eating pie for breakfast, which is to say, having her own cake and somehow being lucky enough to eat it too. Some days, just being in Barbara Howard’s presence is enough. And other days, getting to share these precious moments with her makes Melissa feel like she’s cheated the dealer and won the lion’s share of his gold.

“Our blood sugars are going to rocket sky high,” Barbara says doubtfully, though she’s eyeing the dessert appreciatively—with clear lust in her eyes. Her indiscriminate sweet tooth is one of her only weaknesses. 

Melissa knows because she frequently and giddily exploits it. 

“Eh, that’s future youse’s problem,” she shrugs happily. 

“And present Barbara’s guilty delight, I suppose?” The kindergarten teacher sighs. There’s resignation in the gesture, a tender fondness that only has but one other name. “Consequences be damned, forgiven, and forgotten?”

“Yup,” she grins crookedly. “That’s the spirit, Barb.”

“Mm. You’re an entire mess-and-a-half, Melissa Schemmenti—you know that, right?” Barbara asks, finally planting her fork in the middle of her container.

(Sweet surrender.)

“Can’t argue with that,” she jokes, staking her own claim in the pie too. 

(Simple indulgence.)

“But, hey,” she adds, “it’s on you for still lovin’ my fine tush anyway.”

The sides of their hands accidentally touch as they each carve into the pie, pinkies perfectly aligned. This, too, is innocent. It’s nothing, Melissa convinces herself as she viscerally shudders, as Barbara instantly recoils, withdrawing her hand, taking a huge chunk of the dessert with it. She stops just short of bringing it to her mouth, though, staring at Melissa from the depths of dark, inscrutable eyes.

“Another guilty delight of mine,” she says quietly. It almost sounds like an aching admission on Barbara’s elegant tongue, as though the love between them is not as perfectly above the table as they tell themselves, as though all the leg brushing and every fleeting touch besides aggregates to something larger than their component parts.

Something sinful.

Something beautiful.

It’s funny how the two often end up being one and the same.

“Lovin’ my big ass?” Melissa asks, even though she knows that’s not exactly what Barbara is talking about. They always talk about the important things in the esoteric language of a joke, a game, a bantering exchange that they can absolutely take back. 

(The ring on Barbara’s fourth finger perpetually requires that they take it back.)

“Crude,” Barbara laughs, the sound taut, like a rubber band that’s been stretched too thin, just begging to snap. “But something like that anyway.”

#work wives #barbara howard #melissa schemmenti #s: abbott elementary #reginianwrites #abbottrw #I wanna make blueberry pie now!!

[mumms-the-word]

THINGS THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MY FELLOW WRITERS

I can’t remember who tagged me with this or if I stole it 😭

Tagging: @elspethdekarios @sorceresssundries @fantasyfictionfables @lewdisescariot and anyone else??

No pressure friends as always and sorry for double tagging, this has sat in drafts for like days

Last book I read: For fun? I honestly can't remember. For my dissertation, Phantasmion by Sara Coleridge (and I haven't recovered, it was an acid trip of a fantasy novel)

Greatest literary inspirations: Bram Stoker (fave classic writer), Marissa Meyer (influenced my love of YA fairy tales), Ursula K. Le Guin (her style is SO GOOD)

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: I skim/read a lot of smut for someone who will never write it. I don't even read it that much, but occasionally something catches my eye (I appreciate you smutty, smutty people). What I'd want to read but not write is slice-of-life style shenanigans between characters, the kind that comic artists like @a2zillustration do really well. Send me recs if you know other BG3 comic artists!

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: my current masquerade fic I love writing stuff that is incredibly specific to my Tavs because I find it fascinating to explore different character perspectives and voices? But I know the fandom tends to enjoy generalized Tavs or "you" POVs more than specific OC characters, which is fair given the nature of the game, so I don't share as much of my Tav-specific stuff these days

You can recognise my writing by: the lack of smut...and probably an overuse of adverbs. and the fact that every chapter/oneshot is ridiculously long. I'm new to fanfic, okay, I wrote full books as a hobby before this lol

My most controversial take (current fandom): oh boy I have...many, probably...I've already gotten blocked for one hot take (I think it was a misunderstanding??) but it wasn't even my most controversial take. I think my most controversial take is that there is no One Correct Way to interpret a character, and anyone who tells you that "you're reading the game files wrong" or "that isn't what is canon" is ignoring the fact that a) that's not how interpretation works, and b) the branching nature of the game is going to necessarily mean that different people encounter different things in different orders and may not even get the dialogue that you hold so dear to your interpretation of the character, and that is okay. We shouldn't ask everyone to become an expert in every facet of their favorite character's identity because not everybody has the time or energy for that. We should just hope that people are having fun. Like I know this is a complex topic and I don't want to ramble about it here lol but that's the gist

Top three favourite tropes: in no particular order, 1) arranged/convenient marriage that leads to genuine love between characters, 2) super big tall buff scary guy (tortured past optional) is actually a total sweetheart who is a little afraid of his own strength (bonus points if he falls in love with a smol person he must protect and feels slightly unworthy of), and 3) FOUND FAMILY I love it every time

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): fic writing I'm like....idk a 6? dissertation writing, which I am actually supposed to be writing, is a solid 1.

Share a random frustration: my students keep insisting on using AI to write their assignments and it is BEYOND frustrating how much time it takes up for me to read their assignment, mark where they've used AI, and then forward it to the next tier in our "Guess what you done fucked up" system for this class

#tag game #bg3

[vknq]

hello everybody.

i realise i accidentally went on a bit of an impromptu hiatus. oops.

a lot of things happened in my personal life that have greatly affected me emotionally and it catapulted me into a depressive state that i have since come out of again. expectedly so, it stripped me of motivation and inspiration, and forced me to just take a break and tend to my wounds.

while i was off taking care of my mental health and prioritising emotional healing, i’ve also had time to think about my blog and more specifically my experience in the fic community.

NOTE: i’m not here to take a jab at readers or mindlessly complain about notes. that’s not at all what this is. i think enough people have talked about overall reader engagement and the lack of it. i see no reason to repeat their words, nor is it where the issue lies for me personally.

during the 6 or so months i’ve been here, i’ve experienced very empty support from fellow writers (no i ain’t gonna single anyone out bc it’s been a general issue of mine). i’ve had my upcoming works hyped up, my released fics supposedly saved to people’s tbr lists, i’ve had people ping me saying they’re totally gonna read my fics, whether that be on tumblr or discord, however less than half of said fellow writers went through with reading less than half of what they claimed to have very great interest in. and it’s not like they haven’t had the time. it��s been sitting there for months.

but okay, hear me out: i wanna make it very clear that i have absolutely no problem with people not reading my fics. i’d never force anyone to, i’d never expect my fics to be for everyone. if it’s not for you, then it’s not for you, and honestly it’s all good bro. but the thing that makes me feel great disappointment is when i’m being told to expect engagement... and then to not get any. expecting to hear from all the people that expressed to me they were gonna read my fics, only to hear nothing for months on end.. i don’t think it’s shocking that it left me feeling very disappointed. and the support and interest just feels empty, fleeting, and not genuine.

it has puzzled me ‘cause it comes from fellow writers who are very aware of the importance of engagement, even if it’s just a little. i am of course okay with someone not reading my fics and showing no interest in them. like i said; if it’s not for you, it’s not for you. it’s all good bro i’d never force it down anyone’s throat.

but don’t tell me you’re gonna read ‘em, if you’re not gonna read ‘em. it builds up expectation that is then never met. it’s a set-up with no pay-off.. and it has been particularly bad with my fic series, astral combat.

speaking of astral combat, it’s officially dropped. i have no desire to continue it. both for the reasons mentioned above, but also simply because of my own mistake of putting months of work into a fic that little to none will care about. that one is my own fault, like i shouldn’t have put my all into it, i was definitely doing too much. i know. the amount of effort and work i had to do on it... gosh, it’s just not worth it when the engagement is barely there. the imbalance is too harsh for me to continue it.

anyway, all these things have drained me of motivation, inspiration, and honestly it’s drained me of a wish to continue writing. ‘cause of empty support, fleeting interest, and a massively lacklustre sense of community.. even from fellow writers.

you are more than welcome to disagree and disregard this post, shrug it off, and keep scrolling. you have every right to do so. it’s 100 percent valid if your experience on this platform has been different from mine. this is simply me voicing how my experience has been. i think it’s very telling that i got tired after only 6 months lol

if you do disagree and feel the need to voice your opinion, i won’t stop you, you are free to do that, however i will ask of you to please not be rude, dismissive, or disrespectful about it. this post was not made to spark debate, but rather to just convey my reasoning as to why i’m gonna take a step back from writing fics... for now.

vsualitae is officially on a semi-hiatus.

i might write, i might not. i don’t know yet. i just know that right now i can’t be assed. excuse my french. i’d rather focus my energy on other goals i have in my life. i am a bit sad, ‘cause i have so many ideas for fics, however time will tell if i decide to write them or not. i guess you’ll know if i randomly pop in and jumpscare you with a release lmao

i do wanna say thank you to all of you that have read my published fics, especially those of you who have reblogged with reviews, i am beyond thankful for your kind support <3 know that i’ve taken it to heart and i really, really appreciate it!

#zekitalks #yeah idk what to tag it

[linnorabeifong]

🛼🎲

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🥃🍑🌹🌊🌙

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

Lack of motivation or inspiration . I just struggle a lot and lack confidence in my writing . Also my real life is very tiring. I have a lot of demands on my time. I’m constantly tired.

thank you!

all of the question here, bunny is already answered

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now? 

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

#asks answered

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Claddagh (F!Irish Human Reader x Werewolf Antiquarian!James Delaney)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Angst

Pairing: F!Irish Human Reader x James Delaney (M!Werewolf Antiquarian)

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Very light angst, allusion to smoking, past violence, and discrimination, tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: Infuriating is one way of describing London-based antiquarian James Delaney. Distant and cold with a tendency to cruelty is another. However, on a sunny day, he allows you to look beyond the darkness around him.

To see the one light he has allowed in.

You.

Author note:

Your modern filí is back! A round of applause for finally finding the motivation to finish and edit this piece, please!

Now, I know James Delaney is a character from Taboo (which is a splendid series, btw, so I highly recommend checking it out), but I have given my own spin on him by lowkey fusing him with Leo Demidov from Child 44 and Tommy Conlon from Warrior. Thus, he has become one of my OCs... this is totally not me trying to justify my decisions. Anyways, he’ll be tagged as one from now on.

Cracking on! Claddagh! What is it?

The Claddagh ring I have inspired this wee piece. It is a traditional Irish ring depicting a crowned heart that’s held by two hands. The heart represents love, the crown stands for loyalty, and the two clasped hands symbolize friendship.

According to Irish author Colin Murphy, the way the piece of jewellery conveys one’s relationship status and is worn with that intention. 

On the right hand with the point of the heart toward the fingertips: the wearer is single and might be looking for love.

On the right hand with the point of the heart toward the wrist: the wearer is in a relationship; someone "has captured their heart"

On the left ring finger with the point of the heart toward the fingertips: the wearer is engaged.

On the left ring finger with the point of the heart toward the wrist: the wearer is married.

(Also, it goes without saying I do not own the pictures used in the moodboard and that the credit for them goes to their respective owners)

Story masterlist

Summer days are made for reading and classical music, to be perfectly enjoyed from your balcony while the city lives on in the background. Slivers of conversations over the phone drift on the dry wind as people walk past, some of them seemingly talking to themselves thanks to their earphones or AirPods. If not holding a water bottle, they have a cup in their hands, fueling the ever on-going silent conflict between Costa, Starbucks, and Café Nero. The occasional jogger raises the question of how sane one actually is to go out running when a single minute outside will have your clothes sticking to your skin.

But days like these are also to continuously have the shadow of the man the whole city seems to condemn in the corner of your eye.

“You’re staring.”

“Mhm.”

“Am I really that interesting?” I ask without looking away from the page.

“Mhm,” comes the same gruff answer.

I clench my jaw at his usual lack of response, the rest of my body following suit by growing rigid. Nevertheless, the irritation is blatantly noticeable in the way my fingers briefly dig into the cover of the book, imagining it’s his throat.

Don’t kill him. You’re in this together. The bloody buffoon needs you as much as you need him. 

With an exaggerated sigh, I let out the breath I’ve been holding, slip a bookmark between the pages, and throw the novel into my lap. Arms crossed and chin held high, I lean back while keeping my eyes trained on the burly figure making his way over. Likely having missed the weather report yet unbothered by the summer heat, he has opted for the usual dark attire. To be fair, the antiquarian has marched to the beat of his own, admittedly righteous, drum since the moment we met at the auction in Mayfair. So it’s not surprising to see him dressed in a neat black shirt shirt, a matching waistcoat and long trousers. However, the rolled up sleeves are a subtle sign the weather is affecting him. All the same, I do have to give him credit for maintaining a consistent style.

I wish I could say the same for his actions.

“You could at least use words, James. D’you know how- what- what are you doing?”

The torrent of harsh words dancing on the tip of my tongue dies down with each step that closes the distance between us. The low gust of wind carries a whiff of the intoxicating mixture of nicotine, sandalwood and musk, which provokes the side of me that is like putty in his crude hands. By the time there is a single step left, there is no sliver of determination to go against him left, only the willingness to submit and repeat last night.

Although, it would be a repeat of most nights.

It’s shameful and hypocritical to long for the one man who has been nothing but a pain in the arse. Yet, I am guilty of enjoying the sex even if it leads to nowhere. All the same, I try.

Try to find the crossroads.

The place he’ll meet me halfway.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

A silly endeavour, isn’t it? 

A pointless silent hope.

The days in the army and those spent shortly as a port labourer at the port of London when not getting involved in cage fights have left his palms rough and callous. Action is in their muscles, threaded through with violence. As deft and strong like a bear catching a salmon, they envelop mine, which snaps me out of the melancholy reverie. Normally, the warmth and feel of his big hands would make my heart somersault, but that’s only during the rare times.

The moments when it isn’t like walking around the walls of Jericho.

The moments in between.

They occur during the late night cigarettes he smokes while I trace his peculiar tattoos, curious about the stories behind them, or he allows me to trace the deep gash running from his neck to his chest, the skin raw and rigid. They are the mornings or evenings of an auction, when he tells me to dress nice before kissing my forehead and getting ready himself. They are even there in the midst of darkness, created by the midnight ghost-like walks around London he sometimes permits me to accompany him on. They also tend to take on the form of the afternoons he spends at the desk at the back of the shop, immersed in inspecting whatever antique he has acquired and thus forgetting all about his tea. 

Without milk, strong, dark, preferably darjeeling. 

I flinch, but blink in surprise at the ease with which I retract my hand from his. Nonetheless, unwilling to submit to our usual dynamic of me putting in most of the work and him being infuriatingly stoic, I let the sharpness of my tone speak for itself. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

James lets out a gruff sigh and reaches out again. Catching on quickly to the tactic of backing away every inch he comes closer, his rough fingers shoot forth like a rattlesnake and entwine mine in the familiar iron grip I had expected the first time.

Hardly anything turns out alright when the antiquarian is involved, his mere touch meaning violence and darkness are not far behind. Regardless of the lull in our search for the Sturluson text supposedly containing the ritual to enter Valhalla as a living mortal, I refuse to have a part in what lurks in the shadows he has taken with him today.

It’s almost comical, the effort put into trying to pry his bear claw of a hand loose. However, the pushing and pulling nor the wrangled curses are much of a concern, if a bother at all, for the man. Ignoring, as per usual, the struggle to break free from his touch, he calmly rummages in the pocket of his waistcoat.

“I swear by all that is holy and all that is not, if you don’t let go of me right fucking now,” I pick up the book in my lap and hold it up, ready to strike, “I’ll send you to the Devil himself. You could give him a book recommendation as soon as you see him.”

Because I really do like the novel he bought for me during the small trip to Foyles earlier this week on a dreary Monday: The Club Dumas by Arturo Pérez-Reverte.

Not that I would ever admit it because James Delaney is absolutely not worth granting an easy victory. I do have my pride, after all.

The pleasant warmth of his palm falls away as his fingers unfurl to casually pluck the novel out of my hand and plonk it on the glass side table. Then he nods to indicate something below, a note of curiosity in the short grunts he thinks constitutes a proper question.

On my ring finger there’s a thin silver band depicting two hands holding a crowned heart inlaid with my birthstone. 

A slight smile spreads on my lips as I slowly raise my hand to admire the piece of jewellery in the sunlight. The wave of nostalgia fully crashes over me as memories of my Nan float to the surface, of the stories she used to tell me as we hiked in Coole Park, the place where the greatest folklorist of our family once resided. What I would not give to return to those days, free and careless.

Away from London.

Away from… James.

Strangely, despite the rocky relationship with the big, burly eejit, the thought of returning to a life without him erases the nostalgic happiness. We are here, in the ever-expanding, all-devouring heart of a broken empire.

And, somehow, there is a part of me that would not have it any other way. Because if there is someone who might know it best, it’s the bloody bastard whose stormy greyish  blue eyes are sparkling with rare delight. A sliver of a smirk tugs at the corners of his full lips, barely restrained.  

So this was your master plan all along, was it?

A pleasant warmth expands in my chest, moving up in a flush across my neck and face. Various emotions are at war with one another, though none of them know how to adequately express themselves. So, I lower my head to hide the effect the gift and, essentially, he has on me. Nevertheless, the way I twist the band around my finger should provide James with ample evidence to imagine how I truly feel even though neither words nor my tone convey a genuine sense of gratitude. “Uhm, I mean… thank… you?”

A sonorous, gravelly purr rises from the depths of his throat. I snap up at the sound, but awkwardly clear my throat at the sight of the eyebrow cocked in surprise. If there is one thing I refuse it’s granting James the pleasure of detecting any hint of fragility in me. He might be a wolf, but even a human woman has her pride and being to protect, which she can very well do herself. “Don’t think I’ll let you off because of this. Do you always have to be so fucking difficult?”

“Like it?”

Lips pursed, I raise my shoulders in a vain attempt to shrink and hide myself from his annoyingly proud scrutiny. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Why, though?”

His expression falters and he remains quiet, holding out on providing an answer. After all, why would there be a reason for him to give a gift as intimate as a promise, especially one embodied by a band around a specific finger?

I mimic his expression, a response which causes him to roll his eyes. Nonetheless, he briefly glances to the side and licks his lips, sitting on the answer yet unable to voice it. 

After another moment of silence, he finally answers. “You’ve been missing home, but have been unwilling to talk to me about it. My contact in Ireland procured this ring for me, telling me I-’’

He leaves the sentence unfinished and swallows hard, hesitant to share his weakness.

“What? What did they tell you?” I probe, wilfully forgetting how often it has led to nothing. If James is one thing, it’s a man of few words and a lot of bottled up feelings.

However, much to my surprise, there is an actual response.

“That I should be open with you. Sit down and talk. Try to be less…” he lets out a deep sigh and looks down at his fiddling fingers, uncertain now that they no longer have a ring to hold.

The silence returns and lingers for a moment while I patiently wait for him to continue. A strange remorse mars his features when he looks up again and locks his gaze with mine. Barely audible, he finishes the sentence. “Savage.”

The barely audible word drops a heavy stone in my stomach and tugs heavily on the strings holding my heart together, usually so tightly woven yet now almost tearing apart for perhaps one of the most infuriating men I have met throughout my life. And yet, here I am, hurting for, no, with him. 

Despite the usual hesitance to touch him, never knowing whether he’ll allow it, I extend a trembling hand to cup his cheek. James leans into the touch, his lashes slowly fluttering shut as he, perhaps unconsciously, emits another appreciative purr as my fingers glide over the stubble lining his jaw. 

My throat thick with sorrow and pain, I try to offer him solace as best I can. “You might not seem to understand basic etiquette at times, which drives me up the bloody wall, I won’t lie to you. But, all the same, you’ve never been savage in my eyes.”

“Good.”

“Thank you for the ring.”

“Mhm.”

Ah, we’re back at noises for answers.

Although the wolfish communication is normally a point of contention, it isn’t now. For James to open up like this is a big feat, an massive effort, so it’s only fair of me to leave him be instead of chastising him for who he simply is.

Feeling a little brave and foolish enough to test the waters, I ask him a question I had never thought I would. “Can I hug you?”

Nose pressed into my palm to nuzzle it like a wolf scenting something, warming the skin with the friction caused by his coarse but neatly trimmed beard, he nods in consent. “Mhm.”

I get up from the chair, crouch down, and carefully embrace him. True to his word, James returns the gesture. However, my heart skips a beat when he lifts me into his lap and tightens the hug, burying his face in my neck like he had with my hand a moment ago. 

I don’t ask questions. Instead, I remain silent and live in the moment.

Thus we sit on the tiles as London roars and carries on without a care in the background, arms entwined.

And though the timing might be right and I could for once push my pride aside, the three words that have crossed my mind nowadays remain sitting on the tip of my tongue. 

The sunlight reflects off of the Claddagh ring.

On my left ring finger.

The point of the heart turned towards the wrist.

#Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy x Reader #Tom Hardy fiction #Tom Hardy fanfiction #Tom Hardy fanfic #James Delaney #James Delaney x Reader #exophilia #terato #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #OC: James Delaney

[marukissnack]

Totally for SCIENCE purposes only....

🏠 😍🧑‍🍳🫵🐢💵🧑‍🤝‍🧑🦸

aaaaaaaaaand another question of my ooooowwwnnn.....

which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

Anon you’re spoiling me here ( ；∀；) Lots of longer answers in this one so BUCKLe UP BOYS

Find the list of questions here!

🏠 What is the Lair like?

This is an interesting one, ‘cause in this AU their lair and their home are two separate places!

I’ve mentioned/implied multiple times before that Yoshi, the turtles’ “uncle” & official guardian, is still human. Because of this, My AU turtles live topside in what’s essentially a large apartment.

I…definitely 100% made their home in the sims, and spent hours in first-person Google maps roaming the streets of NYC to find a real live building as reference to make it that much more realistic. It was a lot of fun. That is not sarcasm. I also plan to recreate their hideout in the basement of the sims lot when I get motivation, and I’ll be posting it entirely once it’s complete. But for now, have a basic description!

Their “house” is a three story building, purchased at a time when the housing market was not impossible, and passed down generations of Hamatos. On the main floor is the Hamato Dojo (name pending) where Yoshi works by teaching people (mostly children) the art of ninjutsu. This is also where the turtles do most of their formal training sessions, and when they were tots they sometimes had to hide/hangout in the staff kitchen but I’ll get into that bit some other time.

The second floor is their main living quarters. I tried to imitate a very apartment looking layout for it, but it takes up the entire floor if that makes sense. 5 males, 4 teenagers, 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom. You can probably imagine the chaos that takes place in the morning. Ha. Yoshi gets his own room, Mikey & Leo share another, and Raph & Donnie share the Master bedroom because those two are the most picky about their personal space and they both NEED their own desks. Couldn’t just SHARE like Leo & Mikey do. Smh my head.

The third floor shares the exact same layout as the second, very apartment building like. It is currently unoccupied. The reason they don’t use it is because technically it can be rented out, and Yoshi’s father (another bit I’ll get into some other time) wants him to do that (for more money), so they can’t use it so it stays in decent shape for future occupants. It most likely is/will be rented out during the story, but it’s also very likely it will be a complete rando who has no purpose in the main story.

NOW THE LAIR, which the turtles call their Hideout. It is in the sewers. The main entrance is the manhole in the alleyway conveniently right by their house, like literally climb out the window, jump down the fire escape, boom, right there. There is a slight walk through the tunnels to get to the main area, but it’s very close. The hideout itself isn’t super lived in, but a majority of their hobbyist things are down there due to the lack of space in the apartment, for example:

A lot of Leo’s musical instruments are down there, like a portable keyboard, an abandoned drum set they found, etc.

Mikey keeps his spray paints and messier art stuff there

Donnie’s built his big, mainline PC down there, you know the one, the one that does the heavy technological stuff like the serious hacking. Idk. Anyway, a majority of what would be considered his “lab” is down there.

Raph…he hangs out down there. Lmao, most of his hobbies are on his main PC in his room so he just follows his brothers to hang out tbh. There is a sort of Rage Room a little ways away from the main area that Mikey put together for the two of them to blow off steam.

There’s a couch they found on the side of the road one night that they dragged across town to take down there. Some old beanbags. Idk, I haven’t visualized in the sims yet, my decor game severely lacks when it’s just in my head. This is typically where they’ll go when they need out of the apartment but don’t wanna get all human-disguised for the public.

😍 Are there any romances in your au?

There is no explicit romance, and VERY very few implied (like…one, lol). I considered it for a few of the adult characters, but ended up deciding that I just don’t feel it’s necessary to include in the story I wanna tell.

Mikey does have a crush. But there is no hope for it going anywhere, and he knows that, so I don’t really count it as a “romance”. Just a teen with a celebrity crush. Nothing more.

🧑‍🍳 Who is the best cook?

Of the main cast? Raph, but don’t tell the others; he has a reputation to maintain.

Yoshi’s pretty good, too. Fresh grown herbs do wonders for a meal.

🫵 Who do you project onto the most?

….That’s funny because I project onto all of them all the every all the time. But I GUESS that’s not the question sooo…

Me: Geez this is such a weird thing that I do. Probably from my ADHD or whatever.

Me: ……

Me: Here you go, Mikey.

🐢 Are your turtles different species?

YES! :D I spent many hours researching turtle species to find the right ones for each of them. Leo gave me the HARDEST time, fr.

Donnie is a False Map

Leo is a River Cooter

Mikey is a Yellow-Bellied Slider

Raph is a Common Musk (aka stinkpot)

And as I mentioned in my last post, Sandro is a turtle, so he gets included. He is a Red-Eared Slider.

There is also a Painted Turtle.

💵 How do your turtles make money? Or do they only scavenge?

As mentioned above: Yoshi is a human! With a human business! And gets money for it! Crazy! Each turtle gets some form of allowance idk how much I haven’t really thought about it, but they do get something.

On top of that, there are some other forms of income that the boys have developed.

Raph occasionally livestreams gaming. People are crazy about his hyper realistic vtuber model, it’s rigged so well and the 3D textures wtf (Don’t tell Yoshi he’d FREAK!)

Donnie helps people choose parts for PC builds and/or builds it for them. All his reviews have the same format: “I heard good things about this guy, so I gave him a chance. Kinda freaky how I was told to just drop off all the super expensive parts outside an alleyway and walk away, and when I turned around they were immediately gone. Like, those were definitely just stolen lmao. But then the next day, there was my perfectly built PC right there, right when he said it’d be done. Absolutely insane experience, definitely some kind of cryptid. 5 stars.”

Mikey does art commissions and probably some kinda webcomic

Leo definitely has some kind of “I will make banger background tunes for your business/livestream/etc.” listing on fiverr.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Is April considered a sibling?

Yeah…yeah, eventually. April is an only child, so she DEFINITELY learns to see them as brothers. Because they don’t meet until the story’s actually started, it takes some time. But eventually the Hamatos become a second family to her, and they start to forget there were times where April wasn’t sitting on their couch. Plus, they’ve always had that 6th chair at the table practically waiting for the final family member to arrive, and it just makes sense for her to be there.

…they’re gonna need to buy more chairs soon.

🦸 Is Casey a vigilante?

In a way.

I’m gonna be honest, my Casey is not very fleshed out at the moment, as he doesn’t come into the story for some time. But I do know that Casey has a heart for good and justice, and hates the clear disconnect with how some people are treated differently for seemingly no reason. And he hates the way that those in authority deal with it all. But I don’t think he is very active in this passion, in the ways of his canon counterparts, at least not early on.

I think, where he is now, he’s one push away from running head first on the vigilante’s path. If only a red garbed turtle would show up and like shove him over or something. Wouldn’t that be crazy?

❓Which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

That’s a funky one! I’m a big fan of every iteration (I still have not seen them all, but I hold each one I have consumed very close) so there’s not one specific iteration that serves as THE inspiration. I’m sorta taking bits and pieces from each —a character from here, a hobby from there, a storyline to reference here, etc.— what I feel fits the best for the story I want to tell. I’m also wanting to try new things that haven’t been seen in official turtle media yet (afaik), y’know, like…“What if Donnie was the oldest? How would that change how his personality manifests?“ — “What if Splinter didn’t mutate and was a human instead of a rat? How would that affect how the turtles were raised and where they live?”

So in a way, I suppose Rise is my biggest inspiration? As it’s the first show to REALLY change up the status quo outside of just tone (with Raph being the oldest & leader, Shredder being an ancient demon instead of Just Some Evil Dude, etc.). But each iteration is uniquely different in its own special ways. And I love that.

Anywho, uhhh… For the overall tone of the story, 2012 is what I’m using as an “inspiration”/guideline; a slightly darker, more serious take but still very silly and humourous.

I’m also snagging quite a bit from Mirage comics (and sort of by extension 2003 show?).

So like. To answer your question:

Yes.

#my turtles au #‘Stop talking about my fear stink!’ - Raph RotTMNT

[my-mt-heart]

Hey friends. It goes without saying these past weeks have been awful for us. Emotions are still running high and everything feels upside down because we had the audacity to care so deeply about two characters and the path we were told they were on, only to have the rug pulled out from under us. There are plenty of ways for us to keep fighting for Carol and Melissa and Caryl, and I think one important way is to just keep spreading content.

I haven’t been in the mood to blog lately and unless TWD/AMC decides to do the right thing whatever that may look like now, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to what I had planned—episode reviews, deep dives, rewatching, etc. But I still have plenty of love for the characters that I want to share, so today, I'm going to take the opportunity to say what Carol means to me (I already talked about Daryl somewhat and I'll get to Caryl later). Please feel free to flood my inbox with your own personal experiences too!

When I first started watching the show, I’ll admit my subconscious told me this woman, bless her fragile heart, is going to die real quick and that’s totally fine because what story could I possibly miss out on? Her cards are already on the table. She’s a battered housewife who has to depend on others to keep her safe. I sympathize with her and I hate her abusive husband on her behalf, but ultimately there’s no hero in her to root for. 

But then, whether it was always by design or not, Carol proved she’s full of surprises. Holding onto a grenade that saved the “real” heroes from certain death? Nevermind that she’s still showing a lack of confidence because, fuck. This woman has room to grow, and throughout the seasons she did just that in the most organic, beautiful, heartbreaking, and inspiring way I have *ever* seen on television, which is as much as testament to Melissa McBride’s phenomenal acting as it is to strong writing. 

The way some underestimate Carol in the context of the story seems to mirror how some underestimate her value as a character in real life. But if I’ve learned anything from Carol, and I’ve learned a whole lot, it’s that being the underdog fosters the motivation to achieve what nobody expects you to. Others don’t determine your limits. You do. That is why she is so often referred to as the most transformed, right?

She didn’t want to be the “burden” everyone expected her to be, so she pushed herself to become braver and bolder than the characters who always wore their heroism on their sleeve (i.e. Rick). She developed the strength, wit, and determination to fight and if not for her, those other heroes would have died ten times over. She’s helped others come into their own, she’s helped them flourish and stay alive. She makes the necessary choices no other character will make, even if it means carrying the unbearable weight of those choices. 

Daryl was right when he said if anyone deserves to be happy it’s her. I would add that her character deserves to be respected and honored, and that means from a writing standpoint too. Wherever she goes, wherever she lands, it better make sense for her journey. 

I’d watch Carol until the end of time, even in the most mundane activities because I know Melissa is capable of enticing us with so very little effort. She is not expendable. Not to me. Not ever.  

And so, let me shamelessly remind you once more to vote for Melissa because she deserves all the awards. Also, in case you missed my emails, her birthday is on Monday, May 23rd and we will be doing a Twitter blitz to wish her well. 9am ET. That’s am, not pm. Don’t miss it! 

#caryl #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

[explorevenus]

Hii! first of all I absolutely love how you write, I swear I've had writers block for over a month but your story "something permanent" inspired me so much to write my own yan!Leon fic to the point I was also contemplating the idea to post it here on Tumblr, since I used to post on other platforms before and I loved engaging with my readers. The problem is I'm afraid it might just be total garbage partly because english isn't my first language (and if I ever happened to misspell something or just write some messed up phrases I would be so embarrassed 💀) but also because I have quite a low self-esteem and I don't think my ideas would be any good. Plus, I'm afraid I could get writers block back due to demotivation and leave the work unfinished.

Any advices?

I hope you're having a nice day!💖

hi sweetheart 💗

i completely understand. these are issues 99% of writers struggle with and i wish there was an easy answer.

first of all, don’t worry about it being bad because of your language barrier— there’s a running theme in the fanfic community that the BEST FICS always start with “english isn’t my first language” plus, i mentioned this on another ask but typos and misspellings and things like that matter way more to you than they do to your readers. fanfic is supposed to be messy and human and fun and imperfect, it’s free literature born from a labor of love and people are very understanding about that!!!! english *is* my first language, i write for a living and i still make typos. it’s okay!!!

writer’s block due to lack of motivation and the pressure of feeling like you have to keep a story going is very real. the way i try to get around that is by writing ahead before i even post something let alone announce it— that way you can have some time to sit with it and plan things out before people start asking for more, if that makes sense.

it’s also perfectly valid to just write for yourself and not post things. i personally find it really therapeutic and some of my best works come from ideas i never planned on posting because i was able to just write what i wanted without pressure! that’s how something permanent started!!!!

i’m so insanely flattered that my work inspired you and i’m always going to encourage people to write whatever is on their mind <3 you’ve got this angel. i believe in you :’) <3

#goddess on the mountain top #waaaaaaahhhh i’m having such imposter syndrome over ppl asking me for advice #i rly hope y’all understand i’m Just Some Guy

[puppiekit]

You know what seeing my tumblr homies talk about their ocs has really motivated me to do the same. So im going to ramble about the cast of my comic LOL

Firstly, on to the worldbuilding...

The world of my comic takes place in the far future, long after global warming has taken its course and messed up a good chunk of modern society. All of the rich have long fled to Mars, out of attempt to escape the consequences of destroying their home planet.

A few centuries later, however, they realize their attempts at survival are futile and attempt to return back, much to the anger of those who were left behind, and managed to rebuild all on their own. To say the least, their conflict quickly became violent.

To reflect the hard societal reset that happened on Earth, a lot of the setting and technology present is 70s / 80s / 90s inspired, with a fancier polish to reflect their place hundreds of years in the future, of course.

Inspiration...

Now, the world of my comic is inspired by many things!!! To help you gather an idea of what I have in mind, i'll list them here:

Now on to my silly skrunkly characters!!!

This is Laika, weird cat-dog thing, local societal menace, and genuine war criminal. Hes in his 30s, a short king (only around 5'3), and has all the pent up rage and anger to show for it.

In spite of his sad emo childhood backstory, I have crafted him specifically to be the most insufferable (in the most lovable way) character to ever exist on planet earth. Hes cruel, selfish, aggressive, short-tempered, and prone to violence (derives pleasure from the harm and vulnerability of others, really). He has 0 self awareness and loves to play the victim in every given scenario.

To put it in simple terms, he never mentally developed beyond his traumatized childhood self. Hes under a constant state of survival and self-preservation.

Now in his adult years, he works for the government to develop nuclear weapons. Despite his shitty attitude, he is incredibly smart, especially in regards to science / physics. Still, however, I think it is a rather dumb move on the governments part to hand a ticking time-bomb like him literal nukes. Might just be me, though!

These are Laikas coworkers. They do not have any individual references just yet, so sadly I must rant about them together based off of this puny sketch!

Goose:

Albino raccoon , he/they , Lead Engineer for the Government war effort. Also... Laikas ex! Awkward! This fool is 6ft+ and a walking brick wall of flesh and muscle, but lacks the self awareness necessary to come off as anything beyond mildly intimidating. He comes from a long line of Aviators, Engineers, and Pilots, birthing his life-long fixation on the subject.

Goose is air-headed, and endearing to those who only know him by passing. But in reality hes equally as insufferable as Laika. He's selfish, egotistical, and has a multitude of narcissistic tenancies. He will find any reason at all to passively-aggressively drag others down in meaningless, petty ways, just to make him feel better about himself. His tendency to place himself on a pedestal is almost entirely fueled by insecurities he refuses to acknowledge, which directly bounces off of Laikas hate-fueled enjoyment of picking at others.

He and Laika were childhood best-friends, High-School sweethearts, and lifelong partners... Before they both reunited after Laikas time on the battlefield, however, and realized they had both grown into something they can no longer tolerate. And yet their burning hatred has circled back around into some weird, toxic form of passionate love... Still hooking up and all over eachother, same as before!

Paradox:

Weird coyote thing, they/them, late 30s / early 40s ... Develops chemical weapons for the Government. VERY passionate about their work. Super into conspiracies. This scrawny canine is simply unhinged, to be totally honest. They couldn't be bothered to open up about their family or past, leaving their peers to wonder how exactly they became the way they did.

All that is known is that Paradox's chemical burns... Are most certainly caused from some past self experimentation. (They 100% DIY'd their own top surgery btw. They are indeed that genre of Transgender Scientist). Like the rest of the cast, Paradox is an ass, in one way or another. They lack total care of empathy for others. They have, and will, throw a baby in an incinerator for science.

Paradox lives in the basement of their workplace, pretty much, spending the good majority of their days working away at new weapons, committing unethical science experiments on Prisoners of War, or trying to frantically piece together proof that the moon landing was fake. (yes, even despite the fact that their entire War effort... IS IN SPACE). They are simultaneously stupid and genius, which is why I adore them.

Juno:

Borzoi / Afghan-Hound , she/her , 50s. A lot of people who see this woman call her... a MILF. And perhaps she is. But she is a very EVIL one. Your time with her will not be enjoyable brother. Besides, shes married, unfortunately for her husband. Juno develops Biological weapons for the Government. She was once a Biology teacher for a local Middle School, but lost her job after fighting a student.

Juno is ... A Karen. Mean, selfish, overtly-controlling, and will never pass up an opportunity to complain or jab at those she views beneath her (which is everybody ever, to be honest). If you ever see somebody yelling at a minimum wage worker for something stupid, that is her. If you've ever had to deal with a nosy, bitchy coworker, that is her.

Juno is very spiritual (the embodiment of those christian girls on Instagram who spew out bigotry with sweet bible quotes in her bio), she very much believes in the whole 'this crystal will ward off evil energy' thing. Shes also a vegan, and views feral animals as above society as a whole. She views her fellow man as pests, leeches on the Earth, who are cruel to the innocent animals that inhabit it.

She derives pleasure from using her live for biology as a means for harming/killing her fellow man, and usually in the most unethical ways possible. She has planted Termites in the homes of many of her enemies.

To make a long story short... This entire comic is about assholes living the most painful inconvenienced lives ever possible. It is hilarious. You should ask me about them btw pspspsps come here pspsps

#art #doodle #oc #original art #original character #canine #feline #anthro #transgender #nonbinary #ramble #long post #story #wip #ask me about them pls #puppiekit nation