#Especially the void where i know folks i know can see | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

Text

The Menu | Part 4

“splinters in his knuckles bangin’ on your door”

A/N: remember that meme I posted earlier about how this was supposed to just be a silly little smut fic? Yeahhh about that..🥴

~word count: 6.3k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel goes a little berserk after he doesn’t see you for almost an entire day.

Warnings: SA (not by Joel, not described in detail) implied prostitution, abuse of power/abuse by law enforcement, (FEDRA) unhealthy trauma response, degrading language, mentions of guns, threats, injures from punching a door, mentions of blood, removing splinters, dark!joel, mean!joel, protective!joel, is shit at communicating his feelings!joel, asshole!joel, FEDRA SUCKS, no smut, denial of feelings, stalking, possession, morally gray relationship to the reader, (they’re kinda toxic but it’s complicated) hurt feelings, angst, some fluff, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her late 20’s) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

Joel Miller cracked under the pressure when almost an entire day went by without a lick of your presence. Cracking under the pressure was..a severe misjudgment. All rationale was thrown out the door; he had gone completely balls to the wall insane.

It started in the morning when you didn’t show up to your ‘job’ where you and Joel would spend grueling hours dumping deceased infected. Of course, everyone around him could give less of a shit about your absence. And why should they care? It was a dog eat dog world in the QZ. Every man for himself. To Joel? This was a real problem. A thorn in his side because, well, frankly? You might have meant more to him than just a vice to fill a void. Or a warm body to stick his dick in. Maybe he had reluctantly grown to care for you in his own Joel way.

So, when he found himself in line for his ration cards, his eyes zoned in on the FEDRA officer you fucked out of spite. The same one who did business at Joel’s table while Joel’s fingers fucked you to ruin. He had to start somewhere, right?

“Y’got a minute?” Joel asked casually as he shoved his ration cards into the pocket of his jeans.

“Shoot.” Benjamin, better known as Benji, what the fuck kinda name is that.

“Y’seen Angel around this mornin?’ She’s usually out here with me. Didn’t show up.”

“Nope.” Benji responded smoothly.

Joel’s brow raised as he studied the other man’s face intently. He was looking for any clues, any indication that maybe this Benji fellow had something to do with your bizarre absence.

“Right. Well, if ya see her, tell ‘er Joel’s lookin’ for her.” He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets.

If Benji was good for anything, it was ratting QZ folks out. So, maybe he did know where you were. He had no viable reason to tell Joel shit. In fact, he was the main reason for your absence. Not only did he catch you out past curfew, but with a handful of contraband that could have easily gotten you a week in lockup. He showed you just a smidge of mercy simply for the fact that you offered him a blowjob just to keep your ass off the line, and only in lockup for one single day.

Joel had no business knowing that, of course.

“Well, well, well. Whad’we have here?” Benji stepped out from the shadows of the darkly lit alleyway as a FEDRA patrol vehicle drove by.

“One hour past curfew, Angel. That’s a deduction of cards, and a night in lockup.” He tsked.

Your face scrunched inwards, as if you had tasted something pungent and sour. “Benji? Fuck. C’mon, man. Just let me pass on through. It’ll be like I was never here.” You thought you were being fairly reasonable especially since he did a lot of business with Joel. You thought that maybe you could get yourself off the hook easily.

“Can’t do that, Angel.” He sighed.

“My name is not Angel. And yes, you can. Just pretend that you never saw me.”

“Oh.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his concealed handgun. “So, I guess buddy boy can call you Angel, but I can’t?”

For fuck sakes.

“Christ, is that what this is about? Who has the bigger dick? What, are you jealous or somethin?’” You egged him on as you reached for your own concealed gun before an unpleasant chill ran down your spine from the familiar clicking sound of the revolver.

“Jealous? Now, why would I be jealous, Angel? Ain’t you just a common street whore? You’ll let anyone stick their dick in ya if they pay well. Ah, but you got that Joel Miller wrapped around your pretty little finger. Everyone ‘round here knows he’s your guard dog. Where is he now, hm?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Look, Benji, you’re a good lookin’ guy and all that, but I fucked you out of spite. I’ll stroke your ego or whatever, but can I please just fuckin’ go home now?” You were exhausted from the grueling day. Your feet ached, your whole body felt like a bunch of pins and needles were stabbing it all at once. All you wanted was to go home, pour yourself a stiff glass, and have a smoke. Was it really too much to ask?

“Turn around. Hands against the wall. No sudden movements.” He ignored every word that left your mouth as if it meant nothing as if you truly were just a whore. For the first time in a long time, you felt dirty. Like something that was disposable. A toy that was no longer shiny and new, but dull and tattered. It made your blood boil.

“Benji—is that really necessary?” You tried to reason with him, but your attempts were fruitless.

“I said turn the fuck around and put your hands against the goddamn wall. Don’t make me ask you a third time, Angel. I ain’t have all night.” His jaw ticked impatiently.

“Okay. Okay. You don’t have to ask me again.” You reluctantly turned around with your hands above your head before placing your palms flat against the brick wall. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, slicing the skin open from the pressure as you tasted copper along your tongue when he yanked you back by the hips as if he owned them.

“That’s right. Because that Joel Miller sure turned you into an obedient little cockslut, didn’t he?” Benji chuckled deeply against the shell of your ear. His hot breath on your skin sent a wave of nausea crawling up your throat.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Benji.” You hissed through your gritted teeth as he began to forcefully pat you down. You thought about trying to escape, but decided that would have been fucking reckless to even try.

“Oh, now what do we have here?” He said rather gleefully as he pulled out a baggy of pills. The same baggy of pills that Joel gave to you the night before to deliver to a client.

“Those aren’t mine.” Well, that was dumb.

“No? Hmm. You’re not good at this whole lyin’ game, Angel. Let’s see what else we got here.” He pulled out your gun from the belt loop of your jeans along with tinfoil wrapped cigarettes; fresh ones that Joel had rolled you.

“Well, my dear, you’re lookin’ at about a week in lockup just from this alone. Unless..” he trailed off knowing exactly what you’d offer him in return.

“You’re sick, y’know that?” You scoffed under your breath. Men really did only ever think with their dicks.

“Jus’ doin’ my job, Angel. So, what’re you gonna offer me, hmm? Make it good and I’ll only throw you in there for a day. Sounds fair?”

“Right. Your job at bein’ a fuckin’ rat? I’ll give you a blowie, right here, right now. I think that seems pretty fair, don’t you?” The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to go home.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment, as if he really had to think hard on your offer. “Deal. But I want you to act enthusiastic this time, and take your tits out. I’m gonna paint them and your face in my come, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ take it, and if you don’t?” He flipped you around swiftly, caging you against the wall as he brought the barrel of the gun right against your temple, “I’ll spray your brains out right against this fuckin’ wall.”

This wasn’t the first time you had been threatened by a man in the QZ, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the all too real gun being pressed against your forehead was alarming, and your brain went into compliance mode in an instant. Truthfully, you didn’t want to die, and certainly not in a manner such as this.

All you could think about as you slowly sank down to your knees, and as the pavement nipped at your exposed skin, was that Joel would never do something like this to you.

“Sure, you’ll be the first to know if I’ve seen her, Miller.” He nodded.

Something about Benji, and his stupid face, sent Joel’s hackles rising. But before he could even mutter a reply, Benji was walking away towards the other FEDRA officers.

Joel shook his head while he flipped through his ration cards for the day. He was doing his best to block out all the possible scenarios of your disappearance, but he failed miserably when he realized there was a high possibility that you were either dead, or infected. It happened more often than people would think.

The real start of his manhunt began after he confided in Tess in the utmost Joel fashion. He found himself pacing the length of his apartment while all she could do was watch from the entryway in the kitchen. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she leaned back against the countertop. Her eyes trailed after his frantic movements.

“Look, before you go thinkin’ about doin’ somethin’ reckless, did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s just in her apartment? She could have slept in—”

He cut her off sharply with a quick shake of his head. “Sleepin’ in? Really, is that all Y’got for me, Tess? I knew she should have just fuckin’ spent the night. She’s so goddamn stubborn. I would have even slept on the couch and she could have taken the bed if it was such a big deal. She’s so hot’n cold!” He growled frustratingly. His hands moved upwards towards his head as his fingers tangled through his hair, yanking at the roots till he was feeling a splice of pain. “Or, better yet, I should have just walked her home myself!”

“Texas, you’re actin’ fuckin’ insane right now! Pacin’ the goddamn apartment like a dog. Ripping your hair out?!” Just calm the fuck down for a second. Take some deep breaths, have a smoke or somethin’ and then let’s both think rationally.” She tried to reason with him. All this got her in return was a narrowed glare, a scoff and an eye roll.

“She could be fuckin’ dead, Tess! What if somethin’ happened between her leavin’ here last night and walkin’ back to her place?”

“I highly doubt she’s dead. And if she was, we would have heard about it by now, Joel. Do you want me to help you look for her? Cause I can start askin’ around.” She pushed herself off the side of the counter just as his pacing came to a complete standstill.

“Sure, yeah. Go ahead and ask around. But, before you do that, I need ya to tell me where Angel lives. I’m aware that you know, and that she doesn’t want me to know, but you’re gonna tell me either way.” He stated as a matter of factly.

“Joel, she doesn’t want you knowing where she lives for obvious reasons. How about you stay here, and I’ll go to her apartment. Like I said, I’m sure she’s just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, those reasons are irrelevant as of right now. So, quit your little girl code you got goin’ on with her or whatever, and tell me where the fuck her apartment is.”

Tess didn’t even bother to argue. She knew Joel long enough to know that he wasn’t going to stop until he found that you were safe. Otherwise, the unknown and the ‘what ifs’ would eat him alive, literally.

“You’re fuckin’ relentless, Texas. Y’know that?” She pulled out her own personal map of the QZ before laying it out on the worn down kitchen table. She pointed to your exact apartment building. “She’s on the third floor at the very end of the hall.”

“Yep. You damn right I am, Tess. You know me too well.” He merely glanced down at the spot on the map where Tess was pointing at before he snatched up the parchment, folding it neatly and tucked it into his back pocket.

“I’ll be needing that back, Texas.” Tess reminded him.

“And I’ll be bringin’ it right back as soon as I find her.” Joel responded smoothly, dripping in confidence to mask his true nature. Just like those women he used to sleep with, he could put up a facade with just a snap of his fingers.

“Yeah, well, you’re losin’ daylight. Better go find that Angel of yours.”

“Better me than anyone else.” Joel added with a curt nod. He left the apartment in a rush, skipping a few steps down the stairs. He never handled change of any kind all that well. Especially when you had become a constant in his life while living in this shit hole place. If something had happened to you, Joel would force himself to take all the blame. He felt responsible for you in some capacity.

“Swear to god when I find this girl..” he muttered to himself, shaking his head while slipping past the front door of the apartment building. Evening was steadfast on the horizon; he needed to move fast.

Was it something I said last night?

Was it because I asked her to stay?

Was it the goddamn strap on??

Is she avoiding me on purpose?

Is she dead?

Did she fuckin’ get infected?

Did..she find someone else?

These thoughts and more were swirling through his frantic brain. He fucking hated the fear of the unknown. Absolutely despised the whole entire notion of its existence. He’d much prefer when things were yanked off like a bandaid. Quick and mostly painless.

He triple checked Tess’s map the entire trek to your apartment building. He had no time to fuck this up, and to the passerby he probably looked like a crazed man; which would be an accurate statement given the circumstances.

Your apartment building was nearly an exact replica of his own. Same shitty staircase, peeling wallpaper, the occasional cry of an infant, or scream of a child. Just the day-to-day sounds of the QZ that we’re all white noise to Joel.

When he found himself standing outside your door, he scoffed at the faded “Welcome :)” mat outside of your door beneath his boots. The smiley face had nearly rubbed off entirely, and he wondered if the mat had been there by your doing, or the previous inhabitants.

Focus, Joel.

He pressed the side of his head against the outside of the door, falling silent as he listened with his good ear for any movements on the other side.

Nothing.

“Angel? Y’in there, doll?” He asked through the thin wood.

Silence.

“Look, I’m sorry if I said somethin’ to upset you last night, but I haven’t seen you all fuckin’ day, and I’m real worried that somethin’ bad happened to ya. So, if you’re in there, can you please say something?”

Nothing.

“Okay. Okay, so maybe I do deserve the silent treatment after I made you hold my cock in your mouth like a cum bucket whore, but it was uh—out of affection? And if you’re upset that I asked ya to stay the night, then I’m sorry. It was just late and I wanted to—”

This is fucking stupid.

“Can you fuckin’ answer me, please? Just fuckin’ say something!” He growled, throwing his fists against the door once for good measure. “I’m about five seconds away from lookin’ like a complete and utter psychopath if you don’t open this goddamn door!” His frustration was on the cusp of boiling over, like a kettle on the stove.

“Okay, so we’re gonna play the silent game, huh?! I swear to god, Angel. If you��re behind this goddamn door and you’re ignoring me on purpose?! Good god, girl. You got another thing comin’ for ya!” He laughed, one of those unfriendly, chills down the spine, oh shit! I’m fucked kinda laughs.

Joel Miller had completely lost all remaining shreds of rationale.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of five to open this fuckin’ door, y’hear me?!” He snarled threateningly.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

He didn’t even get to two before his fists absolutely began to rain down on your doorframe. The cord had snapped and he was fully spiraling without giving a damn of who could see or hear him.

With adrenaline, rage, and fear pumping through his veins, he couldn’t even feel the skin along his knuckles being absolutely torn to shreds from how hard he was laying his fists into the wood.

It's like he had completely blacked out and all he could see was red. Red. Red. Red. Red.

Benji was ‘generous’ enough to let you out of being in lockup early and sent you right back out onto the streets. Ridden with exhaustion, you practically dragged yourself back to your apartment with only the thought of a stiff drink and your bed bringing you some form of motivation to keep going.

Your keys jingled in your grasp while you trudged up the stairs. You were oh so close to just plopping down in the hallway, but your apartment was only just down the hall. You could make it.

You passed by one of your neighbors on your way. And when you went to wave, they completely avoided making eye contact with you at all costs. Somehow you just knew that Joel was involved in this behavior, but how the hell did he know where you lived?

Then, you heard the sounds of banshee yelling intensifying the closer you drew to your door.

Jesus fucking Christ. Can’t a girl catch a break?

When you turned the corner, you were met with a grizzly bear of a man. Joel Miller had nearly beaten your door in with just his bare fists. You weren’t even all that shocked to see him outside of your apartment, but, nonetheless, you were pissed.

You leaned against the corner of the hallway, arms crossed against your chest and a displeased, yet mildly amused look plastered on your face.

“Joel?”

He whipped around in an instant at the familiar sound of your voice. His eyes were wide, nostrils flared, blood dripping down between the ridges of his knuckles, staining the already faded carpet crimson beneath his boots.

He looked crazy.

“Where in the fuck have you been? Do you know how fuckin’ worried I’ve been all goddamn day?! Huh, sweet girl? Do you have any idea—”

“You’re bleeding, sweet boy.” You mumble softly. You had hoped that you could advert his attention, but he was already stalking towards you, something indescribable flashes in his eyes when you call him, ‘sweet boy.’

“Yeah, baby.” He huffs out a raspy laugh. “I’ve got splinters in my knuckles bangin’ on your door. Tore ‘em all up.”

He’s so close now that you can taste his breath and see that flicker of fear in his eyes. His hands encaged around your face. Soft, wet from the blood, but gentle.

Droplets of blood trail down your neck and down the clavicle between your covered breasts. You shouldn’t be turned on—but that cunt of yours has a mind of her own, sometimes.

“Joel, you didn’t have to show up here like a crazy man and nearly go and break down my door.”

He glares, bloodstained thumb swiping across your lower lip. “Don’t tell me what I did and didn’t have to do, Angel. Haven’t seen you all day. Thought you were fuckin’ dead or somethin.’”

“Yeah, well, I’m not dead. I’m right here. Why the hell did you even care in the first place, huh? Can’t even go one day without losing your cool?” It’s your turn to challenge him now. You place your palms flat on his chest, giving him a firm shove.

He glared, eyes narrowing into slits. His head cocked to the side in a condescending manner. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He dropped his hands from your face only to then encage your wrists above your head. He used his sheer mass to press your back directly against the hallway wall. He loomed over you to appear more menacing, like a predator going in for the kill. “Who said anythin’ about me caring, huh? Is that why you think I’m here, Angel? Cus’ I care?” He questioned, pushing you further into the wall. His chest was pressed right against yours, leaving you no room to escape, let alone breathe.

“Why would I give a damn where my whore on stilts wandered off to? Y’think you mean anythin’ to me other than a hole to fuck? Don’t be so naive.” He scoffed.

“You have got to be the worst fuckin’ liar, Joel. Right. You don’t care. You just happened to track down where I live, proceeded to bust down my door, just because I’m a hole for you to fuck? Right. Keep on telling yourself that, buddy boy. Keep livin’ in your delusions. See how far that gets ya.” You held in your laugh from slipping past. Could he not see that you were exhausted? You had been beaten down enough as it was, you didn’t need Joel fucking Miller pushing you down further.

“That’s it? That’s all y’can say to me? No bite back? No fuck you Joel? What the hell happened to you, huh?” He pressed further, tightening his hold around your wrists. “What happened after you left my place last night, Angel?” His tone was much softer now, gentle, laced with concern.

You couldn’t keep up with his mood swings if you tried. Joel Miller was one hot and cold man.

“No. We are not about to do this again. Not when in one breath you’re a complete asshole, and the next?!” You laughed bitterly. “Joel, I’m fuckin’ exhausted, okay? I had a shit night, and I just want to go and have a stiff drink. If you want to join, then be my guest, but I won’t take another minute of your bitching. Y’got that?”

Joel found himself studying your face. He thought that maybe he could read between the lines and figure out exactly why you were so exhausted, but you weren’t budging, not even for him. What was that bit about him fucking hating the fear of the unknown? Oh, yeah.

“Angel, look..I’m—”

“Oh, fuck no. You are not about to apologize for that. No. You meant every word, Joel. You don’t get to take that back.” You shook your head in disappointment, breaking your wrists free from his gradually loosening grip before you pulled away entirely.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You didn’t even wait to see if he would follow you, you could care less if he did, or didn’t. With your keys in hand you unlocked your door, muttering about how it probably wouldn’t lock properly anymore from the damage Joel inflicted on it.

Joel’s fingers twitched at his side. He was silently debating his options. It was pointly obvious that something had happened to you, but he had no right to pry. His footsteps followed yours like a shadow.

“You should probably get your knuckles patched up.” You muttered under your breath while carelessly tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter.

“They’ll be alright. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He replied smoothly and shoved his hands into the deep caverns of the pockets on the front of his worn jeans.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” You stated plainly. Your back was facing him behind the counter while you grabbed your stashed bottle of whiskey, and two glasses.

He was observing you with a careful eye when you turned around to face him. “Are you offering to patch up my self-inflicted wounds, baby?” He asked in a crackling rasp, like logs on a fire.

“Sure. If that’s how you want to phrase it.” You shrugged before popping the cap off the bottle with your teeth. You poured a generous splash of the amber colored liquor into both glasses. You opted to take a quick swig from the bottle, needing that little bit of relief to kick in sooner, rather than later.

“Why?” He questioned. He reached for the glass, guiding it towards him before he snatched it up in his hand. He took a hefty sip, letting the warmth from the liquor spread through his system like a warm hug.

“Are you really that fuckin’ stupid, Joel?” You wanted to laugh, but it came out more like a strained scoff if anything.

“‘Fraid so, my Angel.” He smirked over the rim of the cloudy glass.

“Guess the apocalypse shrunk men’s already pea sized brains even more.” You muttered with a shake of your head before downing the liquor from your glass in one swift gulp. Your hand wrapped around his thick wrist, and before he could protest, you were dragging him to your bathroom.

“Sit” you commanded with a gesture to the closed toilet seat.

“Look, you really don’t have to do all this, it’s justa—”

You interjected swiftly, giving him a stern glare before grabbing the first aid kit from behind the cabinet door that was barely holding on by the hinges. “Okay, so then leave, Joel.”

His brows furrowed at your response, and his lips pursed tightly. He ultimately decided to plop down on the toilet seat with a huff. “Are you going to tell me where the hell you’ve been all day? Or are you just gonna keep avoidin’ my question?”

“If you’re good, then I’ll tell you. Cause frankly, right now? I’m sick of your shit, Joel. But somehow, some way, my cold cold heart has a shred of kindness left for you.”

He scoffed, resting his head back against the peeling wallpaper. “You’re sick of my shit?”

“Yes. Because you’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel. How many times am I going to repeat myself? Normal people don’t stalk someone, attempt to break down their door, and then demand to know where they’ve been all day!”

“Oh boy, we’re still on that topic?” He placed his bloodstained hands on his knees and shook his head before he sat back. “So, what would you rather me have done, hmm? Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he gestured with his hands, “it wasn’t like I could fuckin’ call you up! Do you see a phone in sight anywhere? No? Wow, I wonder why! It’s almost like we’re in a fuckin’ apocalypse!” He said with sarcasm dripping with every breath.

And then you threw Joel Miller for a loop when you whipped out a fucking spray bottle and sprayed his snarky ass right in the face!

It didn’t even matter where the hell you found the damn spray bottle in the first place, it was the fact that you had the balls to spray him in the face, not once, but twice when he went to open his mouth. You swore you could see the steam rising from the water droplets on his skin. Like he was an animated bull from those old animated movies. Nostrils flaring red hot flames, smoke billowing from his ears. The tea kettle had reached its boiling point.

On the opposite end of the spray bottle, you saw that very bull with steam spewing. He was flabbergasted, bewildered at your rash decision. “Did you just fuckin’ spray me like I’m a goddamn cat or somethin?!’” His voice boomed like an overhead crack of thunder unleashing its rage in a crescendo.

“I did.”

“And why the hell did you think that you could jus—go’n spray me in the face like that?!”

“You say an awful lot of stupid and hurtful shit to me, Joel Miller. You hurt my feelings, pissed me off, and I’ve just about had it. So, everytime you open that big fuckin’ mouth of yours and say somethin’ mean and stupid, I’m gonna spray you in the face with this.” You waved the spray bottle around for a moment to get your point across.

Displeased, drenched like a damn cat, Joel sent daggers your way with one harsh glare. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were throwin’ a fuckin’ pity party ontop of all of this.” He scoffed.

“Did you not—” you laughed incredulously, “hear a goddamn word I just said? Fine. Well, let me remind you what happens when you’re fuckin’ stupid!” You sprayed him again.

This time he shut up..for now.

“Refreshing.” He mumbled very much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

You set the spray bottle down along the edge of the counter where it was in arm's reach, before you sank down between his spread knees with the first aid kit tucked under your armpit. “Let me see just what kinda damage you’ve done to your beautiful hands, Joel.” Your voice was much softer now compared to moments earlier. At least now you had him tamed and compliant.

“I didn’t break ‘em. Although, if you hadn’t shown up, I probably would have. And they ain’t beautiful, Angel. They’re ugly.” He gruffed out.

“They’re beautiful to me, Joel.” You reached for his hands once they were presented in front of you. The blood had already begun to congeal and dry in some places. “Yeah, you definitely have some splinters in there that are gonna have to come out.”

“Fuck no. Just leave ‘em.” He shook his head.

For the first time in over 24 hours, you smiled. It was really just a slight tug of your lips, but it was there. “Are you afraid of tweezers or somethin?’” You mused.

He scowled at your question and picked a spot on the wall to stare at so he didn’t have to make eye contact. “No.” He grumbled, jaw ticking under the dangling bathroom light.

“You sure about that?” You asked while placing the first aid kit alongside you on the floor. You popped it open, rifling through the different aids before pulling out disinfectant spray and tweezers.

“Crystal.” He confirmed.

“Ookay.” You did your best to hide your little grin while you held the disinfectant spray a few inches above his hands. “This might sting a little.” You softly warned him.

He barely flinched when he felt the sudden coolness from the spray adhering to his open wounds. His nose did twitch the slightest when the stinging sensation settled in.

“You’re being an excellent patient for me, Mr. Miller. Maybe if you’re a good boy for the next part, I’ll reward you with a lollipop.”

He finally looked at you, tearing his gaze from the wallpaper to meet your eyes. His lips curved upwards into a small smirk. “Sounds wonderful, Doctor. Do you promise to be gentle?” He played along.

“Always, Joel.” You replied.

His eyes stayed locked on your own for what felt like hours, neither of you quite ready to break the contact just yet. He cleared his throat, shifting along the closed toilet seat. “Uh, will..you hold my hand? I lied about the tweezer thing. Splinters hurt like a bitch, and uh—yeah.” He muttered under his breath while the heat began to rise rapidly to his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned beet red.

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, Joel.” You nodded reassuringly. Your left hand reached for his own when he had pulled back slightly in a jerking movement. You could sense his palpable hesitation radiating off of him before he finally relaxed.

“This is stupid.” He said suddenly, feeling more bashful as the seconds ticked by.

“It’s not stupid at all, Joel. Splinters are no fun at all.”

I mean, This. Me and you. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be blushing like a schoolgirl right now. And over what? Holding hands? He thought to himself.

He’s kinda sweet..in his own Joel way. You thought silently to yourself.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

“Get on with it, please.” He nearly whispered when his left hand finally reached towards your own. He was the one to thread his fingers through yours and let your entwined hands rest along his left thigh comfortably.

It took all of twenty minutes for you to successfully remove every splinter from his hands. Some fragmented pieces of wood were a bit deeper than others. He was a real champ, and you surprised him with a kiss. A soft reward that he felt he was undeserving of.

“I think you should let them breathe a bit longer and then we’ll bandage up.” You said while moving to stand back up. Your left hand was still engulfed in his own when he stopped you from standing up.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss them all better, doctor?” He asked with a tilt of his head. He looked like a puppy with his tousled, wild hair, and big brown eyes staring at you.

You found your lips kissing his broken skin before you even had a chance to respond. A kiss was pressed to each knuckle in an affectionate manner.

He broke the silence when your hand departed from his and you busied yourself with putting away the first aid kit.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you out there, or are we gonna keep dancin’ around the subject?” He asked rather softly. Almost as if he was concerned.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Joel.”

Please don’t ask me again.

“Angel..”

“Let’s go finish our drinks.” You interjected with a hidden fake smile.

His eyes follow your silhouette when you swiftly remove yourself from the small bathroom. He shakes his head with a sigh before he finally stands up. He eyes the spray bottle still resting along the bathroom counter, and in an extremely cat-like fashion, he swiftly knocks it over into the trash bin below.

Good riddance.

When Joel left your bathroom, he soon found you with your feet tucked under your thighs on the far end of the couch. You appeared to be staring off into space while you nursed your glass of whiskey in silence. He really wasn’t quite sure what to think of your behavior, let alone how he should approach you.

Nonetheless he grabbed his own glass and joined you on the couch. Your eyes stayed focused on the wall even when you felt the old cushions dip down from Joel’s weight pressing down on them gradually.

He swirled the contents around in his glass absentmindedly before he took a small sip. You could feel his eyes along the side of your head when he moved the glass to rest between his knees.

“I really wish you would jus’..talk to me, sweetheart.” He rasped softly while he twiddled with his fingers that weren’t wrapped around the glass. He was never really good at having these types of conversations, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try one last time.

You shifted uncomfortably from his words. You didn’t want to tell him what happened to you in that disgusting alley. Or the way that Benji’s touch made you feel nauseous. You didn’t want to tell Joel that you were made to feel like literal human trash. Pond scum, gum beneath men’s shoes. You didn’t want to confess that you spent a night in lockup, crying against the cold concrete till your body could no longer produce tears while Benji, and a few of his FEDRA friends proceeded to violate you further, stripping you of your autonomy and dignity with grime stained fingernails, and cruel laughter. Nothin’ but a common street whore, that one. Make her gag on it. I wanna see tears streaming down those pretty fuckin’ cheeks, boys. Miller ain’t here to save you now, Angel. You belong to us.

You didn’t want Joel to believe that you were this broken, damaged person. You didn’t want him to take pity on you. That was quite literally the last thing you wanted from him. But, you were only human, after all, and pain had a sneaky way of revealing itself even when you had done everything possible to cloak it.

He watched as you drained the contents of your glass wordlessly before you slipped down from the couch, falling to your knees between his thighs.

She loves it, don’t be fooled boys. She loves to be fucked like a dirty little whore. Ain’t that right, Angel? Joel Miller got her all obedient, just for us. She’ll do anythin’ you ask of her.

“Angel.” He started, words lodging in his throat. Something about this felt wrong.

You ignored him, reaching for his belt with trembling fingers as you worked it open.

Cus’ a whore is all you’ll ever be, sweetheart. The best pussy in all of the fuckin’ QZ. Bet he’ll smell me all over ya, Angel. I hope he does. I hope that guard dog can fuckin’ taste my come inside of ya next time he takes you.

Joel finds himself frozen in time when he sees the way your fingers tremble. He’s stunned and unsure what he should do in this situation. He’s never seen you like this before. He’s used to your brashness. Your confidence. Your swift, snarky, sarcastic remarks. The woman on her knees between his thighs is not you. He knows then that he has to stop this. He has to say something.

“Angel, baby. I don’t think we—” he struggles to find the right words to say. To be delicate, but firm. This had nothing to do with his own feelings, and had everything to do with yours. “This doesn’t feel right, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks to the pits. He knows. He fucking knows. He knows, and thinks you to be worthless, just like the rest of them.

You sink back along your thighs, tears pooling in your eyes. “You don’t..want me anymore, Joel?” You ask above a whisper, holding on by a mangled thread.

He shakes his head slowly, his heart breaking in the process.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

I no longer have a taglist! Please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

258 notes · View notes

don1t1red · 6 months ago

Text

Honestly, one thing about DotO which always bothered me is how Billie seems to be so lonely in her journey. And not in a way of "she is a lone-wolf" but in a literal sense of loneliness and not-belonging. It almost feels like it is her first day in Karnaca, a city where she doesn't know a single thing or person. Which isn't true. I know that a lot of people have already talked about this, and so I won't jump into the depth of criticism. Treat this post as a bunch of thoughts which occurred to me in my first playthrough.

Firstly, there is no recognition from different people. Stilton, for example. In DH2 she was ready to battle her way to his house and help him, she payed with her blood, her eye and her arm. And yet in DotO we don't see any valuable mentions of this man. Yes, we have a photo in her cabin but that's it! Nothing more nothing less, just a photo which exists in the cabin only to show us, the player, the Void rifts. Almost like it was never meant to actually represent their relationship, just a funny mechanic of the game.

Maybe I don't understand her character to that extent but when I firstly played and heard Billie's monologue about the state of the Dreadful Whale, I had a thought. Was there no one who could help her with that? And my first thought was Stilton, especially after I saw their photo together. But alas she didn't mention anything like that which was completely fine… till the The Stolen Archive mission. With a plot progression things became absurdly stupid. Billie learns that the cult uses Shindaerey as their hideout. And what is Shindaerey? It's a literal mining quarry.

And so you want to tell me that Billie who I know, cunning Billie, who was, by Daud's words, extremely good at unsolving mysteries, won't at least ask Stilton about this quarry? She won't ask a mining baron of Karnaca? Really? Give her skills some credit! I'm not asking for a 5 minute long cutscene but at least a small panel in the pre-mission briefing where Billie talks to him about that, and where we can see how worried he is for her. She is not alone and, no matter what, there is still at least one person who remembers her, sees her and wants the best for her. But again, for whatever reason Billie has no valuable connections in this game, it seems. So it didn't happen.

Two other people about which I keep thinking about are Thomas and that person who borrowed Billie's skiff and returned it during the Follow the Ink mission.

If that note from a certain T. was actually from Thomas I can't think of good enough reasons not to include some of the letter which might happen in between them during the events of the game. Thomas knew that both Billie and Daud were in Karnaca but he didn't know that Daud had died. And honestly an unfinished letter from Billie to him where she tries her best to write about their master's death but just can't - would be absolutely gut-wrenching and insightful. Also it could be interesting to see the difference in how Billie is talking about this event and how she is living through it in reality. Because - obviously - people's internal and external dialogues would be different and seeing that difference in Billie would help us, the player, to understand some shapes of her character.

Or maybe Thomas would learn about Daud's death himself somehow, maybe he could recognize Billie's work as she goes though the city to uncover its secrets. And, finally, it would be simply fun to find a small lootstach from Thomas on one of the missions, accompanied with a letter from him. How is he now? What are his thoughts about Billie? How do her actions are seen by the common folk? Or by the gangs? After all, a good character is not only divided by how the story sees that character but also how this character sees themselves and what other people in the story are thinking about this character. And, as I already said, this small letter exchange between Billie and Thomas could cover up those aspects.

And so we are left with only one character whose presence and absence in Billie's story bothers me. That person who borrowed the skiff. Because the skiff was Billie's main link between the shore and the Dreadful Whale. We learnt from DH2 that in any port there would be a “fee” for leaving the ship there, later, in DotO she complains that hiding her ship wasn't an easy task. So whoever borrowed it must be a good friend of Billie, as absence of the skiff puts her in a bad and potentially dangerous situation. Besides there is a note by a certain M., which talks about meeting with Billie later. I was kinda excited to see who this person might be. Someone whom I already know? Character from the first game? Maybe from the second one? Would it be a howler or black market dealer? Would they give me some special mission akin to one that Emily can get in the Royal Conservatory mission? Well, should I say that I was left wondering as there was not a single special NPC which met the criteria.

What? I forgot about someone? Deirdre? Oh, right. Deirdre. The best person in Billie's life and the worst death in Billie's memory. Right. It's almost too easy to forget that she exists, as Billie talks about her approximately two times in the game? More or less so. Should she talk more about her? Maybe, I don't know. But I remember thinking about using the rat charm in the Void or in the quarry. I thought that in the Void I could hear the real Deirdre speaking, this idea gave me chills back then. To adjust to the voice of your loved one's from rats, only to hear her cursing you for all you have done or to call you from beyond. I thought that she would appear somewhere in the Void, just in the corner of my vision. But again it didn't happen. And I don't know for better or for worse. As in the current state if you want to completely strip her out from the game - you won't lose a single thing. After all, a rat charm is just a rat charm, and so is a voice in it, as it never changes and never really speaks to Billie, it was never a personal matter.

Overall, I don't want to be another person who throws rocks at DotO as, honestly, I like Billie and I'm just… sad, I guess. I'm sad that the game about such a character fails to make me think more of her. I'm sad that the plot of this game was kinda ruined with a terrible script. And, at the end of the day, I'm just sad that Billies didn't get her chance to shine in her own game.

But nonetheless I still like Billie and, at least, her sarcastic comments on the surrounding was always a delight to hear, so I'm gonna replay this game one more time in vain hopes to find what I see in it.

#dishonored #death of the outsider #billie lurk #aramis stilton #thomas the whaler #i mean they are in this post so yeah why not #yes this post lacks bri but im gonna be honest with u guys #i completely forgot about her when i fistly played and this post is about my firts exp with this game so yeah #no bri slender i love her i just have bad memory #and i doubt i can bring anything new to her chara at this point of fandom meta talking #so yeah sorry :[#dt (stands for doni talks)

55 notes · View notes

the-dye-stained-socialite · 1 month ago

Text

Hello Fallen London Fandom! I want to say something briefly. I've posted a few of my general Fallen London ideas here on tumblr, and people have gotten excited about them, which is great!

However! Less great is the fact them some people have been tagging (or just shouting into the void in the general direction of) Failbetter.

Don't do this:

(there have been more instances, these are simply the first three i found)

First of all: None of you asked me if this was okay. You are elevating my stuff to one of the people who works with this game in a way that I did not ask for, nor did I consent to!

Secondly: My ideas and concepts are not fair use, they are my own ideas and concepts that I came up with. If you as a friend or fan would like to do something with them, or create sonething inspired by or derivative of them, you can ask (and I'll probably say yes! I love sharing ideas with folks who are nice to me!!!) and of course credit that the idea came from me. If Failbetter staff would like to hire me someday to create ideas for them, then they can own the concepts I come up with for their game. As is, i am not being paid, and you are telling Hannah and crew to steal my ideas, pass them off as their own, and profit off of them. That is close to, or even directly, plagiarism. (edit: obviously i don't own general concepts and such, but some of these things are much more specific and developed! and sometime when you're making a point you generalize to get across the idea)

Third: This causes legal issues for the team, for the above point. Especially with a game where money is frequently involved. If you do this to your own post, someone else's post, anyone's post, and they see it? That's a decent way for that idea to never get implemented.

Fourth: Not every idea, headcanon, or fan theory needs approval from the creators. Fandom does not need to be directly intertwined with the creators. Personally, I have the most fun whenever I am actively not giving a damn about the creators, and simply enjoying the things they make in my own time, place, and peace. My monster-fucking, my dreams, my silly ideas I come up and create with friends are my own, and I don't need the creators' opinions or in-game implementation of these ideas!! I am not entitled to their game-making as a fan, and they are not entitled to my personal ideas, and that's okay!

and finally, Fifth: Remember there are real humans behind usernames. I am an entire person with nearly 25 years of lived experience. You do not know me. Don't be jokingly rude to strangers, because no matter how many /pos tags you add to something, it still comes off as rude! You cannot guarantee I interpret your words the same way you do, so be nice. Think about if you would go up to a random stranger in their house and say these things. Don't forget that you can always learn and improve and change for the better.

#fallen london #fallen london fandom #I'm just. exhausted. these are my ideas not theirs!

30 notes · View notes

skyeoak · 5 months ago

Text

Tmagp 30 thoughts

Vocal performances all slayed. 10/10

I think there’s a lot of good and bad in the finale! But overall, it feels underbaked. (Or overplotted/overplanned?)

I’ll save my finalized thoughts on the hilltop center to see if it’s developed in further seasons, because uh, hmm. Jonny said in the live drop that carousels of horrors were his favorite to write, but they sure are not realllyyyy my favorite to listen to. They’re kind of thematic scattershot. And yeah, one of my critiques about TMA is that I don’t love how we only rarely see how the fears combine and interact. Having multiple creepy things in a curiosity cabinet -com shopping center doesn’t really solve that problem for me.

The idea of a character turning a blind eye to an obviously creepy job is still interesting, especially in how it parallels the staff of the OIAR. But that’s kinda the start and end of my interest in the custodian? It feels like this story could have been shrunk to 1/3 length and had a better effect. I just feel like this should have been a midseason statement, and the finale could have focused on having some sort of action or tension. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting the finale to have a statement at all, to be structurally in line with early TMA. Maybe a full statement/story from Celia, giving the non-TMA audience some idea of why she thinks there’s nothing to go back to in her universe. Hell. Maybe she could just. Tell Sam, uncompelled. I would have loved to see her try to convince him to jump. Convince him that her new life matters more than his (perceived) failure of one. Instead… this is another episode where I feel like the double meaning titles weigh down what the statement could be. And it’s the season finale.

I wondered early on if the finale for this season would feel more like setup for future seasons, and yep. Yep it did. It just felt like there was this inherent tension between the stakes of the story, which are already at interdimensional travel, and the level of danger it feels like everyone is in. Not to mention how Celia just drops a list of alchemical balance things out of the blue. Magnus Protocol is in a tricky situation: they need to set up a new conflict and new characters, and at the same time, Magpod has already done mega-apocalypse hellscapes and so TMagP might feel the need to go bigger. (Imo I don’t think sequels always need to raise the stakes but I understand that’s industry standard). It’s also tackling alchemy, a notoriously complex subject that’s probably hard to explain to an audience in any way that feels natural. You can’t just throw murder worm lady and screaming main character in the finale and call it a day. There’s a lot going on, less time, and I don’t know if the characterization this season was consistent (/consistently good) enough to hold the full weight of it all.

OKAY, WHELMED THOUGHTS OVER, now for the good! Surprise surprise, it’s all the little character payoffs!

Gwen and Lena’s confrontation was EVERYTHING. Gwen is kicking anthills, and Lena is so content to let her stand in them while the ants crawl up her legs. I won’t lie though, I’m not sure if this plotline will be interesting to me. I think it depends on how fast the OIAR staff can get Gwen to actually be on their side.

Sam deciding to protect Celia by pushing the archivist into the void is SENSATIONAL CHARACTER PAYOFF. (This is my interpretation of the scene, audio was super unclear once again, and there was a line change from transcript to podcast that made this super ambiguous in the actual canon audio.) My poor guy has ZERO self esteem, and still wants to be a hero. He probably realized that if what Celia just told him was true, an archivist could actually kill her on the spot. My guess is that (tma spoilers) this balanced the rift not because Celia replaced her own missing soul (plenty of folks got sent through hilltop road in that same incident) but because an archivist+a person were pulled through to replace Jon and Martin. Truly excited to see where they end up, and if this archivist gets developed more as a character next season. Also the implications of interdimensional balance on what happened at the end of TMA are… interesting.

Oh Alice. Everything in this intricately balanced house of checking up on people and soothing them and deflecting tension with jokes is about to come crashing down. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.

And yes, this is a super lukewarm episode review but I do wanna say I liked this season a lot, and TMAGP is still a cut above a LOT of horror I have read/listened to this year. I’m hoping seasons 2 and 3 will either steer further into a direct TMA sequel, angle OR steer clear and become their own thing. TMAGP is stuck uncomfortably in the middle right now. Just be the good parts of her. But completely new.

#Want to retroactively say that tma season 1 finale is really good and i did not do it credit by hyperbolizing about it in the post.#Hoping this S1 finale is as much of a thematic sleeper agent as jane prentiss was.#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 30 #tmagp critique #skyeoak’s episode notes

23 notes · View notes

see-arcane · 5 months ago

Text

Happy Friday the 13th!

Time for some updates.

Plushies

I promise I have not forgotten the little guys-in-potentia. I’ve just been going through many circles of Hell trying to find a decent manufacturer that isn’t operating on some secret ‘Sorry, We Only Work with Brands ™ and Influencers ©, Enjoy Sending Half a Dozen Queries to Our Inbox-Void, You Little Nobody~ <3’ rule. So that was fun. But, finally, I think I’ve found a prospective maker. The issue?

The smallest bulk order is a 50-count. $30 each, roughly. Just for one. 30 x 50 = at least $1,500. If I try to do Mina and Jonathan (DO NOT SEPARATE), that’s 100 plushies. $3,000.

And that’s without dealing with the logistics of storing all the dang things, figuring out shipping costs depending on where I’d be mailing them (not including the packaging), and figuring out how to fairly price them without also gutting everyone’s wallets while we’re all broke.

Fundraising options like Kickstarter, Indiegogo, and Backerkit all look like the only solid way to go here, but they come with their own caveats.

I need some kind of prototype to have on display, not just the concept. The manufacturer I have in mind does provide a physical prototype prior to going to work on bulk orders, but I’d need to talk with them about the what-ifs involved if a fundraiser fails to drop enough cash to afford the full order.

I still need to figure out what a fair funding target would be that would cover cost of manufacturing/shipping/etc and I do not know that magic number.

Tiers? Do I do tiers with this? If so, how do I portion those out dollar-wise? What goodies can I throw in that would sweeten the deal? At the moment all I have is my writing.

Argh.

Really, 4) kind of sums up the whole thing at the moment. I really, really want to make all my assorted little guys come to cuddly life, but the numbers involved are looking more complicated than pi, especially when I—(frankly, all of us)—have Zero Money to gamble away. If I’m off by one (1) digit that means the difference between ‘Yes, I can pay for manufacturing and shipping and et ceteras no problem!’ and ‘WHOOPS SURPRISE YOU’RE PAYING AN EXTRA FEE OUT OF POCKET NOW BECAUSE YOU DID NUMBER WRONG, HA HA.’ Add that to the fact that I really don’t have anything tangible to pin to hypothetical tiers just now?

I’m afraid the plush Harkers (along with Quinn Morse and his new accessory) have to go on a back shelf for the time being.

But, for a more positive note…

October Scares and Scribbles

I plan to have a Substack in place sometime within October. It will include not just Harker’s current helping of chapters, but…

A new Harker teaser

Backups of some older stuff

[REDACTED] as a little Halloween treat

A generally tidier domain to keep my scattered scrawling in order

As it stands, I don’t feel comfortable turning it into a paid subscription Substack. I won’t be doing clockwork updates and what I will have up won’t be worth a routine fee. I’ll likely have a Ko-Fi link up as a sort of tip jar, but that’ll be that.

Speaking of money…

Maybe Making Merch?

Turns out the options for making less complicated bric-a-brac than stuffed animals are…less complicated. Imagine that. I’ve also been poking around looking at possibilities for stationery, bookmarks, cups, assorted bits and bobs. You know the Dracula Cast(ula) was made for journals and coffee mugs. However, I need to know what kind of designs folks would want to see. So:

The prospects here are much less stressful as far as puzzling out details goes, so I feel a little better about chewing on this. Still need to settle on Official Designs, but I’d wave those around for folks to see first.

All that said?

Argh

Because it bears repeating.

You’ll notice I haven’t laid out exact dates or timeframes for any of this stuff. That’s because I’m still neck-deep in the job hunt, along with grappling with the possibility of having to burn more money on new courses to enter a field I hate, but looks to be one of few career paths that will actually pay me more than pocket change. Said positions not even being guaranteed to still be in the same shape once I’m out of class. Same as my last job.

In four months, I’ll have been applying for a solid year. Every day. All to positions that either send copy-paste rejections, ghost outright, turn out to be thin veils for scams, or, most fun prospect, aren’t even real, because companies keep putting up false job openings to look like they’re expanding. My time has alternated between this and writing and trying not to look at my bank account. Between that and anxiety bordering on nausea concerning the upcoming election, my Halloween vibes are pretty bruised too.

It has. Not been the best time.

But the best part of it is still going on. Because that part is you guys. The people who’ve enjoyed my nonsense. The people who’ve actually dropped some bucks my way on Ko-Fi or bought my book! The people who’ve encouraged me for ages and have turned out to be some of the coolest folks a fellow bookworm could hope for. Thank you.

I hope you’ll cross your fingers for me going forward.

Postscript

I’m also working on the rough draft for this thing. Whether I can get it up on the platform I’d like or not, it will see daylight even if I have to drag it outside myself.

Living’s not cheap, but complaining is free. >:}

#enjoy the monologue #my writing #my art

26 notes · View notes

morihaus · 6 months ago

Text

Hungry

The night is dark, as all nights have been for some time now. Distant constellations in the heaven and braziers burning along the walls of the city are the only spots of light now that the sun has departed from the lands called Akavir. Darkness laps hungrily at the periphery, claws scraping against the borders as the flames flicker and dance up above.

A cub named Oanir kneels in his mother's tent, poking his head out to look up in wonder at the void of the night sky. Little embers pass far over his head as the winds whip at the braziers, and while beautiful, they do little to answer his questions. "Mama?" Oanir pokes his head back inside to turn and look at her, his mentor in all matters of the world and living in it. "Where did the moons go?"

His mother is large and powerful, larger than most of the other women he's seen in the towns they stop at. Her face of orange and black fur is crossed by a patch of scar tissue that travels across her snout and eyebrow, a keepsake from an old hunt. She turns her amber eyes, bright even in the night, towards her student. "Who taught you about the moons?" The low growl of her voice is purely curious in tone, for there has been little need to teach him. "Folk in town." He answers simply, walking over to lay beside his mother as they talk. "They talked about the moonless nights, then told me when I asked what a moon was." "And you took them for their word?" She asks. Oanir makes a little face, bunching up his snout and shaking his head. "No! To your teachings only." He recites, then drops all pretense of seriousness. "So what were they? Where'd they go? Did they get knocked out of the sky?"

She closes her eyes and a laugh rumbles against her throat. "Precocious youth, pestering the Walled as you do. But if you want to hear the true story, then I shall tell you, but only once. Commit the lesson to your memory."

Once certain Oanir is focused, his mother begins the story of the moons and the tiger goddess.

"I have already taught you of Vetar. She is the mother of necessity whose first action created our world. She dwelt in the dark void behind the stars, in the shadows of heaven, and she stalked and killed her prey like us, but no other god understood her way, they drifted through endless lives of comfort, ignorant to challenge and victory. From the very beginning, they ostracized her, and her greatest enemy was Unul, who abhorred all change."

Well-preserved memories flash through the young cub's mind. He remembers his mother's lessons well, especially her tales of Vetar and her children; Sakoar, Krakar, Prunar, and of course triumphant Sotar, who first proved that tiger could prevail against nature. Tales of the gods were his favorite, but he has not yet heard the name Unul. His mother has decided it is time he know the face of their enemy.

"Unul claimed all lights and all touched by light for his Tun, his domain where his rule was law. He and his slaves brought light everywhere, so that no one could escape him. Only the void was free, yet at the same time, it was barely anything at all. So Vetar and Rakhan devised a Tun of their own… this story, I have told you before." He knows she will not repeat herself, for their time together as mother and child is to be short. No second can be wasted on repeated lectures. "At first, Unul ignored the two. It was a slow process of hunting, killing, and molding corpses into the earth, the sea, the plants, and the animals. But it could no longer escape his sight once Sotar achieved the mastery, and soon, many from Unul's Tun traveled to Vetar's, eager to take part in this glorious game and claim the rewards for themselves. So Unul did what he always did… he sent his armies of lights to steal this place for himself."

Oanir's mother stares straight ahead as she speaks, resting a massive paw on his head as if to physically hold his attention. He can almost see her laying with her own mother in a time long since past, listening as she explained the same story with the same posture, the same practiced tone, so that she could survive to carry it to him. "The lights he sent were his strongest, for only they could pass the field of darkness Vetar and Rakhan had planted around their world. The first was Surah the Great, the largest and most powerful light in Unul's army. But he is as great as he is lazy, and he can only do half the job himself, bathing the world in the light called 'day' to make it harder to stalk and hide."

Oanir is amazed to only learn the true name of Surah now, having seen him nearly every day. He and his mother prefer to rise for the hunt as he sets and rest as he rises, though the young cub never thought this was owed to any sort of enmity. To think, all this time, he has known the face of one enemy.

But now, his mother moves on to explain those he has never seen: the moons.

"To battle for the last bastion of darkness called Night, Unul sent the twins Nakra and Rilak. While not powerful enough to win the Night, they were masters of illusion and madness. "Nakra was the Furious Belief. She tempted us with images of the unreal world of Unul, of abundance and lazy revelry, to lure us back to that accursed plane. She sent us into fits of lunacy, making us careless and weak. Her brother Rilak was the Scolding Essence. He weathered our resolve with false visions and dreams of our death, twisting our instincts into terror and fear. He preached that our world was meaningless suffering and tried to make us submit. "Both yearned for our failure. They tempted us and beguiled us so that we would not survive, and then, they would try and snatch our souls away to Unul's world. But we were protected; every night, Rakhan's ghost would lead a hunt through the void, backed by the Shadows of our kin who failed to survive, and chase Nakra and Rilak across the sky. They were bitten and eaten by the Shadows, who are always hungry, and so their ill light would wane until there was nothing left, keeping us safe and letting our dead remain part of this world. However, the twins would always return, and on the rare nights they shone their brightest, our ancestors would be at their most guarded, for they had to hide not just from prey or predator, but from the heavens above."

Then, she looks down to Oanir. She closes her eyes and straightens her ears up, a smile rises in her tone. "But this all changed very recently. Let me tell you a new story… about how our hunger swallowed the moons."

The cub's eyes are wide and insistent that she continue.

"Long have the Children of Vetar wished to undo her enemies. We have always called our foolish kin back to the jungles where the hunt began, even as they plug their ears with dragon's tongue. So many now walk the path of Unul and Bornaka, we must remind them of the true way of living and put an end to their madness. "Madness is the work of the twins. The twins impose their order of ethereal light onto our perfect world of shadows, they thieve our dead and mock their hunger by refusing to lessen, always returning, never extinguishing. It was decided that they would be our example. They would be our prey, and the whole world would remember the hunger that birthed creation. "We gathered in the clouded forest to the east, our actions shielded from the foul light of the moons. Our grand hunt began, not for sport, not even for survival-- we were not hungry for flesh, only for destruction, for revenge. Hundreds of us died, but in their failure, there was still a job to be done and glory to be gained: to join Rakhan's heavenly hunt and devour the prey once and for all."

His mother's voice is loud now, and in her eyes he sees the hunter's thrill. A faint red glow that pierces through the night, guiding teeth and claw to one's prey.

"And they did it. Of course, I do not have to tell you this. You, my fortunate son, have never been subject to the foul glow of the twins, not a night in your life. Nakra and Rilak are dead, and you, you are alive, here to inherit the darker world. For this reason, you are favored by Vetar." She leans her neck down to plant a small kiss upon Oanir's head, wetting his fur with her tongue. "The lesson of this story is thus: it is inevitable that we Children of Vetar reclaim what is hers from light and its lazy worshipers. The Walled can ignore this truth no longer, for now, even in their cities and empires, they finally remember the old fear: the fear of prey."

Then, his mother stands, her body seeming to shift and change in the darkness of their tent. She's larger, even more hulking and bestial than she was before. Her fur isn't just thicker, it's darker, more stripes than orange. Her limbs stretch and warp, like those of a long shadow. It's time to hunt.

Oanir's wide eyes remain upon her as she walks to the exit of their tent. He will always remember the delight on her face, the lilt of her voice, and the fire behind her words. He will remember the story of Vetar and her enemies, and of the time he was born in, when the void reclaimed the night.

But he still has one question left. As he stands up to follow his mother, he asks her. "Even the Tiger Dragon?"

She turns to look down at him, now with long, dagger-like teeth. She bares them not in anger, but in excitement. "Yes," she purrs. "Even him."

#tesfest24 #mori writing #ka po tun #po tun #stick with me on this one

15 notes · View notes

foolscapper · 2 years ago

Text

Sometimes it’s easy to feel like the things you make aren’t things people care to see, or that they fall into a void, no matter what stage you’re at with your writing or art. I know there are days where I sit and think weird thoughts about the benefit of my work and if I’m applying the time in my life appropriately towards it, especially with long projects, or hobbies that make me no financial benefit.

“Do people feel as excited as I do about this?”

“Am I even “good” enough to do this?”

“What if nobody likes it?”

“What if I have to enjoy this creation all alone?”

Those are things I had worried about when I was younger for way too long, and still even get flare-ups now, like an old degenerating knee joint in the winter.

But!

Don’t worry about other people. Just do it for you, and people will show up and share in the interest, even if fleetingly. And if they don’t, embrace never knowing the exact amount of eyes seeing your works. Embrace the mystery of not having an actual tangible number for how many folks may have stumbled across your page and found some inspiration or joy in it, or even if only as a passerby who often craves seeing other people love the same thing they do. Follower counts are inaccurate, you may never get a like or comment from someone who checks your pages often, and you’ll never see the private enjoyment of your work among friends in chats or in person.

But just make stuff! Find personal joy in it. Get better at it, and better and better and better until you can hardly recognize the things you penciled in high school. Create obnoxious amounts of work if and when you can.

It will give more than take.

(And to the visitors of writers and artists — give your favorites out there a nudge however you’d like, they always appreciate the reveal of one pair of eyes. Or singular eye. Or no eyes, if you don’t have ‘em. Metaphorical eyes. Yes.)

#I turned off reblog because these are bathtub thouhuts #and I would die if my sappy bathtub thoughts breeched containment #but still!!!!

26 notes · View notes

you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 2 years ago

Text

RWRB - thoughts

Already did this on the bird, so might as well retype it here:

Some thoughts on Red White and Royal Blue, and why I feel a little disappointed in some of the reactions I've seen because I need to caffeinate and also type this out into the void.

I want to preface this by saying that obviously we all consume and experience media in a vast myriad of unique and different ways, and my opinions aren't stated for the purpose of diminishing or belittling anyone else's. If you read this & disagree that's your right!

I went into RWRB expecting it to be NOTHING like the book (for ex I was aware major characters had been cut and some exposition revised). Also, the book is generally better than the adaptation - that's my mantra (w exception of Good Omens and Sandman; the Neil Gaiman effect is strong).

What I did NOT expect was how MONUMENTALLY touched I would be by such open, romantic, and intimate representation of a m/m love story on my screen. There are multiple scenes between Alex & Henry in RWRB that I have never seen so touchingly depicted before (and perhaps I'm missing other movies that do it! Drop them in the replies!) RWRB earns that R rating but it does so in such a gorgeous way - it show cases the love of these two men as a beautiful, NORMALIZED thing.

I know, you're saying - that's the bare minimum!

And it is. But, the state of our world, especially when it comes to the representation and the rights of our community - is such that I feel the need to take joy in even what is the bare minimum for people like us. (Speaking of people like us - the B in LGBTQ plus is not a silent letter!!) You can read about the importance both Casey and the director of RWRB placed on bi rep in this film in this piece.

A very important example is the sex scene in the movie, which is likely the most explicit m/m sex scene I've seen in a mass distributed highly promoted film since - ever? This is important because it's done ROMANTICALLY. And mind you - it's still leaps and bounds from explicit sex scenes in a het rom com film, which is why it's so important that we have this.

Normalizing intimate contact between couples other than those who are heterosexual is monumentally important. I for one would hate to see any negativity leveled at this film due to the (fair & justified!) disappointment folks may be having because it's different from the books take away from that very important aspect. (Also why aren't we talking about the trans rep?! Aneesh Sheth stole the show for me as Amy).

I think that's where my feelings of sadness ab some of the reactions are stemming from. I had similar thoughts when folks were upset over S&B not being identical to the books as well, but it feels even more vital for us to celebrate RWRB for everything it brings to the table and to our community instead of focusing on what its missing from the books.

I am very grateful to have a story like RWRB in existence, and I hope it leads to many more, because queer love is beautiful in all aspects, and it deserves to be seen and celebrated in ALL mediums.

#red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue movie #red white and royal blue movie spoilers #rwrb movie #rwrb spoilers #long post #txt post

23 notes · View notes

skloomdumpster · 2 years ago

Text

Youtuber voice: make a gifset with me :)

alright folks, welcome to another episode of Jo talking to the void. Gonna try and do a "follow my process" thing.

It's very- VERY long and image heavy. Under the cut and feel free to send me an ask if you have any questions/want me to elaborate on anything.

Part 1: Grab at any idea that sparks joy. Anything. Today mine is the word "horror", so we'll try and do a horror set.

Part 2: Scene analysis and reference hunting. I'll open a new folder on my pc named "Horror gifset" and dump there all the FTWS scenes I already have and that I think could be fun. Open pinterest and behance and type "horror", see if anything sparks an idea.

This takes me roughly 20 mins, here's what I have:

I try to take a step back and see what is it about these designs that attracted me. Clearly the red & black contrast, Bloom and I actually just like the "police line" because of the amount of storytelling it brings by doing basically nothing. (Don't be fooled, I saved many many pics before narrowing it down)

Part 3: To me this is the hardest one. I want to have a small storyline in my gifset, so time to think of it. I open a notes document and just start typing whatever comes to mind, trying to keep the mood of the previous images.

Here's what I landed on. It's not much, but I can now start the fun part of structuring the gifset.

Part 4: I've really been into layout lately, so now's the time to do math.

The first panel I knew I wanted to have the text centered in the middle and surrounded by the mini-gifs. Here are the two layouts I thought of. I decided to go with the second one because it's more interesting, but I already knew I'd tweak a lot, to resemble an actual police line, etc.

I separated all of the scenes from 2x06. Both when Bloom is arrested and when she's released, considering I could use them in reverse.

When making layouts the only things to keep in mind is that the dashboard optimal width is 540 px and that the space in between every piece of "frame" you put within a gif is 2px. So let's say I was going with the square layout 1. It's 540 px width, BUT I can't just divide 540/3 and make that the size of my layout, because I need to account for the space in between the squares too. So the math is actually 540 - 4 (because I have three columns - two gaps)/3 = 178 px. All the squares in that image are 178 x 178.

On Scene grabbing: I do everything I can to use footage that's high quality. This is the easiest way for your gifs to come out pretty, avoid anything lower than 1080. Especially if you're grabbing a scene that'll need loads of adjustments like a night scene or a period piece with too much yellow, grab even higher quality than 1080.

When I work with Redeeming Love's footage, I work with 4k quality, because I know I'm about to destroy the quality by adjusting it.

I mean look at the amount of yellow.

I t*rrent all my scenes in MKV, then use Avidmux to chop the entire movie/show into smaller sized scenes and convert it into mp4.

Part 5: Back to the set. Once I have the basic layout, I pull in my scenes and check if they make sense. One big tip is to stop thinking of scenes as what you watched, but as what you're seeing.

Scenes meaning are very easily altered by whatever context they're put in. Look for scenes in unexpected places (the romantic scene can absolutely be horror footage) and reverse the order or add in effects to alter their meaning.

Each one of these gifs had it's own peculiarities. So to break it down:

Gif 1: I colored it to bring out the black and added the blue because I knew I wanted to use overwhelming red later and this would pop-out. Shaded the white streaks so they'd appear more like police lines and colored them using a gradient just so it'd be more interesting. I didn't like how Bloom's upper part lined up with the cuffs, so I inverted it and brought out the red

Gif 2: First off, I scavenged my memory to try and find a scene where a character appears with white eyes like Bloom's. This poor fella is from The Covenant (2005). I color matched both Bloom's and his scenes so the green was neutralized and we had more blue and red. Then finally I added the phone where the actual storyline I wrote back up starts to unfold.

Gif 3.1: First off, this gif is 540 width, but not 540 px tall. It's actually 400 px tall, which is a good tip: You don't have to stick to one format when giffing. Sometimes a layout or scene simply won't work in a tall format and that's fine.

For this first part all I did was color Bloom, slap the all red color map and the text. Then I realized I didn't like her swimsuit under blending, so I went back and specifically desaturated the red in the starting layer and made it dark, so it'd show up black. The "20 years" are subtle, but in my head it'd be what the characters are hearing in their nightmare, so it's just a faint whisper in the corner.

Gif 3.2: I colored all scenes to match each other. Sky's was the darkest one, so I knew I'd try and match to his because then I wouldn't have to destroy the quality of his footage to match the others. Musa's scenes was tricky because in the actual scene she's waking up slowly and happy. I chose to speed it up and start the gif already in her movement, so you don't realize she's actually very relaxed in the scene.

Gif 4: I started by coloring Bloom and Riven's footage, reducing the yellow and bringing out the blue and red in both. As you can see there's still a candle behind Riven, that makes it hard to see his face, so what I did was add a black shape under (or you could paint a layer in PS) with black and just blur the edges, so his footage would actually show. Finally there was that big empty spot in the upper left, so I added a note and used it to wrap up the story of the set.

There are two layers of text, both set to multiply: one is the actual text, the second one is in a brighter red and blurred in one direction, so it looks like the text got smeared in a rush. Added the blood and ta-da! We're done.

Exporting:

If you're exporting from After Effects, I've found exporting in MOV works better than trying to export in mp4, since it doesn't compress the file. You'll notice I'm using the format "apple ProRes 444", that's simply because this format keeps the alpha channel (transparent). While I didn't need it in this set, it's an habit.

Once I export from after effects, we're importing in Photoshop.

I import by going File > Import > Video Frame to Layers. Then you select your file and you should have this:

Hit OK.

If you don't have the timeline here, simply go in "Window > Timeline"

You'll end up with something like this. Now here's the most boring part of giffing, but don't give up now!

Go on the 3 lines on the bottom right of the timeline (=) and click on "select all frames". Once they're all selected, click the little down arrow under the little thumbnails to change the timing. I change mine from 0.04 to 0.05

Then I select all my LAYERS (not frames), put them inside a group. And click:

On this little piled up icon to transform into the video timeline. This is so we can sharpen our gifs.

Right Click on top of the group on the layers panel and select "convert to smart object". Then in the upper bar, click Filter > Sharpen> Smart Sharpen and use these settings:

This is what makes gifs look clear and crispy.

FINALLY we're saving. You can do it manually, like a peasant, by going on file > export > save for web (legacy). Or you can play keyboard piano and hit alt+shift+ctrl+s.

These are my export settings.

Things to keep in mind:

"Diffusion" is just one of the types of exporting you can do. TWEAK THIS for every gif. Sometimes very detailed gifs will look better with Pattern. Very colorful ones with Diffusion. It varies a lot.

"Adaptive" is just another way the pixels are laid out. I don't actually see much difference here, but I always tweak on all settings, just to make sure I'm getting the best quality by the smaller size.

On the bottom left you'll see your size. Mine is currently 6.82M. All you have to know is that Tumblr won't allow any gif bigger than 9.8M.

Looping Options: make sure it's in forever, otherwise your gifs won't play.

And then... finally, hit save.

....

Now rinse repeat and do this for 200 other gifsets, because it's a totally fun hobby to have!

#usergif #gif tutorial #resources #pscentral #myedit #best worst hobby

26 notes · View notes

thisaintascenereviews · 1 year ago

Text

Best Of 2023

Well, it’s that time, guys, gals, and non-binary pals — it’s the end of the year (well, it’s already the beginning of the new year now). My buddy Jake and I collaborated on a piece that talks about our favorites of the year, but I wanted to write a bit of a companion piece, in case you didn’t want to look at that, and just wanted to know what my favorites in order were, or if you wanted more detail on what I think of these albums. I won’t waste time, let’s dig into the honorable mentions first, and I’m only going to write maybe a sentence or two on these albums, since I don’t want this to be super long. The honorable mentions are in no particular order, either, I don’t rank those, but the top ten will obviously be just that — a top ten.

Spencer Sutherland - In His Mania

This is the newest album on the list, or at least newest that I found, and Spencer Sutherland is what I call a traditional and old fashioned pop artist with modern production, and that’s what his debut album sounds like. It’s incredibly catchy, fun, and grandiose, but also sounds timeless, and he has a killer voice.

Nita Strauss - The Call Of The Void

Guitarist Nita Strauss came out with her second album, and instead of it being purely instrumental, she included a lot of guests in terms of some of the biggest names in hard rock and metal, and this album kicks a lot of ass.

Thy Art Is Murder - Godlike

Controversy aside, the new album from Thy Art Is Murder is an album that sounds like the way I remember deathcore sounding. Not to sound like an old man, but these days, a lot of the genre is about how heavy and brutal you can get, whereas a lot of what I listened to back about 15 years ago is more about just having sick riffs, solos, and killer vocals. This record reminds me of that, and their new vocalist is pretty damn good.

Honey Revenge - Retrovision

This past year was a theme for catchy and fun albums that got my attention, and one of the first ones I found was Honey Revenge’s debut, Retrovision. These guys take 00s pop-rock and add their own flair to it. I really enjoy this album and I’m excited to see where they go from here.

Broadside - Hotel Bleu

Speaking of which, Broadside had a good year with their new album, and second album with Sharptone, but they took their sound into a mixture of pop-rock, 80s pop, and pop-punk. The album is pretty damn good, and has some of my favorite cuts of the year, but it does lose me a bit with how off the wall it can get. It doesn’t flow as well as it should, but the styles they utilize here are pretty good.

Blackbraid - Blackbraid II

I’ll be honest, folks — I haven’t gotten that metal for the majority of 2023. It’s not that it was bad, and like I said in my piece with Jake, I just didn’t find enough that I really connected with. There were a few exceptions, including Thy Art Is Murder’s latest, but Blackbraid’s second album, aptly titled Blackbraid II is a great mix of black metal, indigenous music, and even some hints of thrash and traditional heavy metal.

Wayfarer - American Gothic

My other favorite black metal album of this year is the new Wayfarer album, American Gothic, and if you wanted an album that takes country, Americana, and black metal, as well as lyricism about the Wild West and the realistic history of the time and region, you’ll love this.

Boys Like Girls - Sunday At Foxwoods

Boys Like Girls are back with their first album in 11 years, give or take, and it’s a good 80s-inspired album that has some slick hooks and reflects a lot more of lead vocalist and songwriter Martin Johnson’s project The Night Game. If you enjoyed that project, you’re sure to enjoy this one.

The Electric Mayhem - S/T

The Muppets had a pretty good year in 2023, especially with The Muppets Mayhem on Disney+, but the band released their debut “album” injunction with the show, and it’s a good little covers album (with a few originals in the mix) performed by the Electric Mayhem, and what’s great about this album is that it feels as though it’s performed by the actual band and not the performers of the characters along with session musicians. This album is just a bunch of fun all around.

Aesop Rock - Integrated Tech Solutions

I hadn’t listened to hip-hop much of 2023, but if there’s one album that I wanted to hear, it’s Aesop Rock’s Integrated Tech Solutions. This is a record that shows that Aes has nothing left to prove, as he’s got a relaxed and melodic flow, lyrics that are both insightful and observational, and a concept that doesn’t make much sense on the surface, but if you dig into it, the concept works a lot better.

Spiritbox - The Fear Of Fear

Spiritbox are back after two years, at least if you don’t count their Rotoscope EP from last year, but they put out a new EP entitled The Fear Of Fear. It’s a great EP that takes elements of their previous projects and combines it all together to make for a relatively short but engaging experience that is sure to leave fans wanting more.

Archetypes Collide - S/T

Archetypes Collide is a metalcore band that has a lot in common with bands like Linkin Park, Bring Me The Horizon, and other metalcore / alt-metal bands, especially ones with a pop sensibility like, because they have elements from a lot of different styles and put it all into a blender. This record is a ton of fun, despite not having much of a unique identity. If anything, hopefully their next album throws some more unique ideas into the mix.

Wind Walkers - What If I Break?

Wind Walkers is a band that Jake showed me, actually, and these guys follow in the same footsteps, although their new album (and first in five years) What If I Break is a generic record that does what it does well, and that’s kind of about it, although it does sound really nice and fans of this style should enjoy this quite a bit.

Cannibal Corpse - Chaos Horrific

Cannibal Corpse released a new album this year, and it was a hell of a good time. Chaos Horrific is the name of it, and this record is more or less what we’ve gotten before, but this record has a lot of passion, fury, and fire in it that I can’t help but enjoy quite a lot. Cannibal Corpse is one of the first metal bands I ever got into, and it feels fitting to put it onto my list, even if it’s the honorable mentions.

Caskets - Reflections

The last honorable mention I’ve got is from another band in the post-hardcore vein that has a pop sensibility, and their second album, Reflections, sort of dials down on the R&B elements of their sound, but the pop elements are still there in full force and they rule.

That’s all the honorable mentions I got, so let’s get into the meat of the list. I don’t want to go into too much detail, because I already did in Jake and I’s piece, but I still wanted to talk about these albums in one way or another.

10: Tyler Childers - Rustin’ In The Rain

Country has a bit of theme on my list this year, and the first album on my list is Tyler Childers’ Rustin’ In The Rain. This record is a nice nostalgic-sounding album that reminds me of a lot of the 1950s and the 1960s. Childers himself even said that this album was his idea of him auditioning for Elvis Presley, and it works quite well. I came back to this record quite a lot, because of how catchy and nostalgic it was.

9: Paramore - This Is Why

Paramore came back after a six-year hiatus, and they changed their style yet again by turning into a post-punk band and it sounds great. A few songs don’t do as much for me compared to the rest, hence why it’s lower, but the stuff that’s great is truly fantastic. If there’s one band that can pull off reinvention, it’s Paramore.

8: The Maine - S/T

The Maine dropping a really solid album wasn’t on my bingo card in 2023, but here we are. Their self-titled album from last year was a slick and catchy slice of 80s pop-rock that worked wonders for me. This record is my favorite of the bunch with this similar sound, including the new Honey Revenge, Broadside, and Boys Like Girls albums.

7: Seth MacFarlane & Liz Gillies - We Wish You The Merriest

A Christmas album in my top ten of the year? Say it isn’t so, but indeed, it is. I really enjoyed this record when it dropped in November, but I’ve been enjoying it quite a bit the last couple months. I’ve been playing a bit of Christmas music, and this is the album on the rotation. I wrote a full length review of this, so if you want to see what I thought of that album in more detail, check that out, but I do really enjoy this album, nonetheless.

6: Colter Wall - Little Songs

One of my other favorite country albums this year was the new Colter Wall record, Little Songs. Another nostalgic sounding album, this one worked more so for me, because of its lyrical content and Wall’s deep baritone. I absolutely love the sound of his voice, and how unique it is, but this record feels like it came right out of 1955 in all the best ways.

5: Beartooth - The Surface

Alright, top five time, and in that spot is Beartooth’s The Surfqce. An album that is both heavy and optimistic, I love this album and how it came out. I’ve been a fan of Beartooth for the last few years, and their last couple of albums where they’ve gone into more hard rock and pop sensibilities have worked wonders for me. This record is no exception, as it’s heavy and catchy. Hardy makes an appearance, too, and for as much flack as his last album got from a lot of online critics (the album, The Mockingbird & The Crow, isn’t thaaaaaat bad, but it’s fine), he does great here. This record is a whole lot of fun, though, and I’ve been playing it quite a lot throughout the year.

4: Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit - Weathervanes

Jason Isbell’s latest record is a behemoth of a record, as its lyricism is some of the best I’ve heard all year. Isbell’s vocals are the some of the best I’ve heard all year, too, but this record is some of the best Americana, country, and heartland-rock I’ve heard all year, too. This record gives every band member a chance to breathe, but every song is potentially the best song on the record. This album isn’t as higher, only because the top three on my list are more so personal for me, whereas this isn’t a personal one for me, although a lot of stuff on this record is very poignant and insightful. A lot of very relevant topics are brought up here, including addiction, abortion, school shootings, and racism, but it’s done so in an interesting way.

3: Zach Bryan - S/T

My top three this year were no contest. Zach Bryan’s self-titled is an album that caught me by surprise; this record is such a personal yet insightful look at someone’s mental and emotional state, but this record is wonderful. It’s a bit long, clocking in at around an hour, and a few songs feel like filler, but for the most part, this record is gorgeous. Bryan’s voice is utterly fantastic, and his lyricism is unmatched. These songs are some of the best of his career, too, and I’m so glad that a few of these songs were hits, even if they ended up being minor hits.

2: Metallica - 72 Seasons

For my top two albums of the year, these are albums that mean a lot to me, because of the bands that put them out and what they represent. The first one is Metallica’s new album, and their first in seven years, 72 Seasons, but this record is important to me because Metallica is the first metal band I ever got into a decade ago this year. I’ve been able to experience two Metallica albums live since they came out, this being one of them, and I’m also a lot older now. This is a great example of album where the band can do whatever they want, and they really do that by taking on multiple styles in this record. Metallica is the biggest metal band, if not the biggest band period, in the world, so they can truly do whatever they want.

1: Fall Out Boy - So Much (For) Stardust

This was a no-brainer — my album of the year is Fall Out Boy’s latest. They’re not only my favorite band, but they really hold a special place in my heart. This record is a long time coming, too; this is their first album in five years, and they went back to basics with So Much (For) Stardust, ultimately looking back to the past but also thinking forward. I don’t want to talk about this record too much, as I wrote extensively about it when it came out, and since then, but this record is a monumental one. It’s good to have Fall Out Boy back, especially with this new album.

Cheers to 2023, folks, let’s see what 2024 brings.

5 notes · View notes