#before we begin

[interviews-n-rumors]

About this blog.

about: this blog is co-run by two mods, though @moony-mods is the primary owner, and will probably handle most of the in-character interactions! Moony is autistic, and that may reflect into his interactions both in and out of character.

extra: there will be multiple characters that are a part of the club! get to know them through interactions and introduction posts!

Rules: normal DNI criteria will not be tolerated, and will immediately be blocked. inappropriate questions will be deleted and not answered.

I will allow ships with characters w healthy dynamics and close to Silver's age, but only if expressly asked beforehand.

I will NOT tolerate any ooc disrespect, and will only engage with in character arguments/fights if intention is communicated properly.

THE MOD IS (AND CO-MOD) ARE MINORS. (MDNI, DO NOT INTERACT)

[visible-buttholegirl]

yall i am obsessed with this song lately, it feels like a warm sunny day in 2005 and sounds like the sun rays beating on my face

[soapbbox]

Like does the high guard know about what’s been going on or

Technically a continuation of this

[thepermanentrainpress]

Gallery: Eric Nam and Alexander Stewart @ History - Toronto, ON Date: October 16, 2023 Photographed by: Kianna Sumitani

[ohbother2]

do you know what?

I miss long seasons.

I miss seasons that had 20 episodes and half of them could be cut and nothing would be lost to the story.

I miss the episodes where nothing fucking happens but you get to see the main cast goofing around with one another. You get to see their interactions, their relationships develop, their day-to-day lives and how they all fit together in them.

You get the Christmas/halloween/valentine's special -is it needed? certainly not. but is it good? is it entertaining? does it give the show and characters life? do we, the viewers, enjoy it? YES!

give me long stories!! give me little quarrelling spats between characters that can be resolved in one episode with no need to have an impact on the greater story! make these stories real!

let me enjoy them before they end!!!

I absolutely love Hazbin Hotel and the little world that's been created, but I can't help but feel disappointed we're only getting two seasons of 8 episodes.

back in the early 2000's 16 episodes would have been ONE season, never mind the entire thing.

show my angel dust and husk and nifty and sir penthouse living their daily lives in the hotel! show me Charlie brainstorming ways to redeem sinners! give me Charlie forcing the hotel staff to do cringe-y exercises! give me an entire episode of Vox trying to follow alastor through security cameras! Give me husks typical day! Give me a special through the eyes of nifty on a mission to irradiate the hotel of bugs! Give me sir penthouse and the egg boys up to no good!

give me something other than the bare necessities to make the story flow

6 months have nearly gone by in the hotel, and it feels like 1 month.

[ghostvibesonly]

imogen’s development from “i’m not like homophobic 😃 i’m an ally 😌💅” to “i don’t think i’ve ever liked a boy” is absolutely 10/10 no notes, exactly where i was hoping her character would go

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[armageddidnt]

No thoughts head empty just an appreciation post for that little fiddly thing Crowley’s got going on his head in episode 1

[rockafstw]

so ur telling me that ayrton senna in the early 80s put photos of alain prost up in his childhood bedroom in brazil and these photos stayed there for over a decade, despite the Intense rivalry that developed between them later, and then it was only after senna’s death, after the funeral, that prost was invited to the family home and stood in senna’s old bedroom and saw these photos of himself on the wall? and i am supposed to just go about as normal with the knowledge of this?

[nadiuu]

@mattmelloweek 2024 - Day 3: New beginnings

[avocadoonthetrain]

This might be the most chaotic thing I have ever done in my life

I recently have gotten a coworker's portrait drawn and printed on stickers and button pins, which I then distributed to all our other coworkers, who wasted no time and started immediately showing them off on their bags and tablets. Stickers then started appearing around our workspace. Someone brought them abroad during vacation and left them in public spaces.

This man's face is now slowly becoming viral.

When asked why I did this, all I could answer was: because we love him and having his face go viral seemed like a good way to show him how much he means to us!

[suntails]

🐉⚔️

[i-ges]

I’m back! Time to re post this now thats it’s finished finished.

[temporary-tats]

Mon Loup

Please send help, Wenclair has taken over my brain.

Per usual, do not reupload without credit/permission. Thanks folks!

(My ko-fi, should you wish!)

[literalite]

what do i do if forever isn't true?

the collective — a sim story set in the 80's based on the lore and townies of moonwood mill — coming soon

[starry-bi-sky]

What would a mother not do for her child What lengths would a mother not go There's a bond that exists between mother and child With no end to how strong it can grow It's a promise for life between mother and child It begins from the moment of birth.

================

She is six years old, and standing on the porch at her Auntie Alicia’s cabin. She is six years old, and holding an old rifle in her hands, standing at the railing and pointing the nozzle at a large target a couple feet away. There’s a pair of old ear muffs covering her ears. Behind her is her daddy and her sister, and Auntie Alicia. She can’t see them. 

Danielle Martha Fenton is six years old, and her momma has her arms wrapped warmly around her, keeping the gun steady for her. It’s heavy and the butt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably, and she feels nothing but determined. And nervous. 

Her momma was teaching her and Jazzy how to shoot, and they’re down in Arkansas to visit Auntie Alicia for her second “Divorce-iversary” as Auntie calls it. She keeps a hunting rifle in her gun safe for the rabbits that like to nibble on her garden. She mostly grows rhubarb, which goes untouched. But her carrots and greens and other veggies like to be tempting snacks for the game. 

Regardless, she is six years old and learning how to shoot. Her momma and her daddy (mostly her daddy) have been banned from every shooting range outside of Amity Park in a hundred mile radius. So Auntie is the best place to learn, or so momma says. 

Danny thinks it's just an excuse to see her sister, not that she's complaining. She loves visiting Auntie.  

She’s already seen Jazzy do this, her momma told her before the muffs went on to shoot when ready. No use trying to fire when you’re not; you can’t afford to miss when shooting ghosts. 

Danny breathes out steady, just like momma taught her, and quells her trembling little fingers. She focuses down the barrel, and pulls the trigger. 

Immediately, the recoil throws her off, the side of the gun that her cheek was resting on knocks against her skin, harsh enough to bruise if it weren’t for her momma’s steady hands holding onto her. The bang of the gun startles her more than she thought it would, and her heart leaps up and runs a jackrabbit through her chest. 

The gun is carefully slipped out of her hands, and Danny lets it go easily, her cheek smarting in pain and her eyes wide and following up to momma. Momma turns the safety on, and with a gentle hand, pushes against her chest. Danny takes a few steps back, and slips the ear muffs off her head. 

Mommy is smiling big at her, something that Danny can’t help but replicate on her own face as her heart swells. “Did I get it, momma?” She asks, watching as she passes the gun off to Auntie Alicia, who steps over to take it.

“I’m going to go see, sweetie, but I think you did.” Momma coos, before planting both her hands on the porch railing and, in a single leap, vaults over the side and onto the grass. She’s dressed all comfortable for the summer heat, with her hair all tied back and in shorts and a tank top and nice boots. Danny’s ribs swell hopefully, and she stands on her tiptoes to watch her walk over.

“I’ll be hard-pressed to believe if you didn’t, Martha Mae,” Auntie tells her, grinning like a cat, “that was a damn good shot.” 

‘Martha Mae Knight’ was Danny’s granny’s name. Auntie Alicia calls her that because of her middle name — and because, by her words, she has her momma’s weird-shaped eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The kind that could scare a hawk into singing like a robin. It was Danny’s favorite nickname ever.

Daddy laughs brightly, the sound painful on her ears but twice as nice, and despite the distance, Momma whirls her head around to shoot Auntie a glare; “Language, Alicia. Not around my girls.” She warns. Her accent always comes through when they’re around Auntie. It’s Danny’s favorite thing to listen to. 

“Do you think so, auntie?” Danny says, bright-eyed and ever-optimistic. Auntie Alicia nods fiercely as Momma finally reaches the target and searches for the bullet hole. Daddy then comes up behind her, still laughing, and claps a hand onto her shoulder so hard that it makes her knees hurt.

“Of course she did!” Dad boasts, as bright as the sun and twice as warm. He shakes Danny affectionately, wobbling her on her feet and pulling her straight into his side. She goes so willingly with a burble of giggles. “She’s got the eyes of a Fenton! And our family are darn good shots.”

Auntie eyes him up and down, her smile immediately fading off into a pressed line. “I’m sure you mean she’s got the eyes of a Knight. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at twenty paces, Jack Fenton.” 

Jazzy holds back giggles from where she’s standing by the door, her ear muffs in hand, and Danny watches her Daddy’s dark eyes immediately narrow. Just like Auntie’s, his smile tapers off into a frown. 

Before he can say anything, there’s a cheer from the yard, and they all turn to Momma clapping her hands in delight. 

Danny immediately pricks her ears up, and would’ve darn near rushed over to the railing if it weren’t for her Daddy’s hand on her shoulder. She yells instead, excitement thrumming like a hummingbird against her ribs, “Did I hit it, momma?!” 

Momma beams at her with all the pride in the world, “You sure did, Danny!” And she turns to press her finger against the target, right on the inside red ring of the battered old bag. “Right here, sweet girl!” 

There are cheers from all around, and Danny’s heart bursts inside her lungs with shiny, sunshine glee. She puffs her chest out big, and smiles so wide it hurts the cheek where the gun smacked her. Her Daddy shakes again, squeezing her tight against his side in a hug that Danny happily reciprocates. 

“What’d I tell you, Martha Mae?” Auntie tells with a big wink and a wide grin, the gun still gripped tight in her hands as Momma makes her way back over. “You got a Knight’s eye.” 

When Momma makes it back over the railing, she hugs Danny tight and praises her shot. Danny looks her in the eyes and chases the feeling, and asks to shoot again.