#j-smoky

[meadow-hearthfire]

Meet Jake, another Funk-Rock Troll inspired by @zivazivc's OC Flea.

Jake is Reuben's older brother. He's the leader, manager and bassist of Stardust Dice. He's a rocker and a rapper because, like I said in my Tyrese post, I refuse to believe Prince D is the first Hip-Hop/Rapper of his tribe!

When Stardust Dice was just a ragtag group of kids, Jake would try to keep his brother and the twins Beck and Biff out of trouble and keep them from going too far in their mischief, and was often pushy about it. However, he was never above things like pulling a chocolate pudding heist (that Floyd may or may not have been roped into 🤭) with the group at their local school at night on a weekend.

Jake's bossiness carried into Stardust Dice's activities when they became a band, but he would ease up thanks to Floyd's intervention.

Side note: Jake is Floyd's age while the rest of Stardust Dice is three years younger.

[TW: drug use, drug addiction, alcoholism]

Jake is a chill dude when he's not under stress nor pissed off while under the influence of alcohol.

Jake started smoking when he was 18 (his two moms and dad wouldn't let him and Reuben smoke or drink until they reached that age). It helps calm the nerves and relieve stress from managing the band, keeping his bandmates outta trouble, or being in crowded areas for too long (when he's not high or drunk). That habit would come back to bite him in the ass in the form of headaches, coughing fits, breathing problems, and addiction.

As time went on, Jake's role as the wrangler and his bandmates' as the ones needing to be kept out of trouble would be reversed as he got deeper into drugs.

As indicated by Jake's tail, his dreadlocks aren't natural. Here's what it looked like when he was a kid before he had it done.

Here's what Jake's fur pattern looks like without the fuzz effects:

Jake is also inspired by D Smoke during his part in Rare Americans' "Rythm Kitchen". Which reminds me, Jake can cook a mean dish, but he can be a bitch in the kitchen when it comes to sanitation and making sure the food isn't ruined. In fact, he keeps the hair band on his wrist (plus a few spares in his mane) so he would tie his hair up at any moment when he's about to cook or clean.

Fun fact: When Jake was a kid, he had a squeaky voice which would later shift to a baritone as he went through puberty.

[hyugaruma]

YUP, PICK ONE TO BOOT.

[potatochip-oc-dump]

thinking about gary and his friends... i am trying to lean into the mad scientist aspect of his character a little more

[virtie333]

I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection. Excellence, I can reach for; perfection is God's business. ― Michael J. Fox

[nightfallsystem]

who says i cannot eat a lit candle: the media

who lies: the media

conclusion: I AM GOING TO EAT A LIT CANDLE

[monmorgandy]

Summer Fantacy - 0855 by J & W Photography Via Flickr: Facebook | FAA Taken on the first day at dusk during our brief weekend trip to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The glow after sunset created a dreamy atmosphere which was enhanced by the colorful wild flowers in the Cades Cove.

[leifberry]

Fate

Smoky :3

[dailyjpop]

yama - Smoky Heroine

[dojaejung]

JAEHYUN ʚїɞ The Smoky Night J - The 1st Album 2024.08.26 6PM (KST) ♡

[herpsandbirds]

Forest chicken?

I think you're talking about the Mountain Chicken (which some peple call the forest chicken)... but I'm gonna include the other species in this genus.

Giant Ditch Frog aka Mountain Chicken (Leptodactylus fallax), family Leptodactylidae, native to Dominica and Montserrat in the Caribbean

CRITICALLY ENDANGED.

photograph by Goncalo M. Ross

Smoky Jungle Frog aka Giant Land Frog (Leptodactylus pentadactylus), family Leptodactylidae, Puerto Gaitán, Meta, Colombia

photograph by Khristian Venegas-Valencia https://www.instagram.com/p/CvGaoWrLWQQ/

Savage’s Thin-toed Frog (Leptodactylus savagei), family Leptodactylidae, Anton Valley, Panama

photograph by Charles J. Sharp 

Santa Fe White-lipped Frog (Leptodactylus laticeps), family Leptodactylidae, found in Argentina, Bolivia, and Paraguay

Poisonous.

Populations are decreasing due to habitat loss.

photograph by Reptiles4all

[meadow-hearthfire]

I'm thinking of making Jake quarter-Pop

Not only does the mom who birthed him look Pop-Funk, but I think it would add some weight to his insecurity about his singing.

Speaking of which, my current idea is: when he was a kid, he sang his heart out in public and got mocked and ridiculed for it. He's got a nice singing voice, but the trolls that derided him were kinda racist and didn't like music that isn't their genre.

Also, in the early days of his creation, I've pictured him grabbing and holding onto Reuben, Beck and Biff with his hair (only to get dragged because he's smaller than them in comparison).

I may have to shift his colors, but I'm thinking of making the hair color he's currently sporting his disguise color. I'm thinking making it so he chose that color because it's the hair color of a particular Rock troll he looks up to, or at least a similar color.

[sashaforthewin]

[on Ao3] Rated M, sex mention, Steddie

ATM Boy

The song started as a joke. Eddie wrote it to see Steve's reaction. 

It had a catchy tune and the lyrics began as a love song of sorts. Steve sat on the couch in Gareth's garage tapping his foot along to the heavy beat and smiling at Eddie as he sang. Until he got to the chorus, of course. 

"He's my ATM boy, my ATM boooooooyyyyy"

Steve rolled his eyes, assuming this was some dumb jab at his being rich. He was upper middle class, at best.

"I can tell he loves me / I can tell he's true / cause when we're in bed there's a thing that he lets me doooOOO!"

Steve was already frowning as soon as Eddie mentioned them in bed but Eddie kept singing, holding eye contact the whole time.

"He let's me go ass to mouth, ass to-"

"EDDIE! EDWARD J MUNSON, ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

The song cut off as various members of the band, Eddie most of all, lost their collective shit at Steve's reaction, laughing at his outburst.

Steve strode over to where Eddie was cackling into the mic, hands on hips, and when Eddie didn't stop, Steve just smacked the mic to the floor.

"Hey, that's expensive!"

"Then you better make sure not to sing about our sex life with the rest of your band present after you buy a replacement, huh?"

Everyone except Eddie agreed that Eddie had sort of deserved it and should replace the mic. Steve forgave him fairly quickly, though, since it was just some harmless joking among friends that would laugh it off. 

That was, until the gig. 

Corroded Coffin got booked to open for the metal band Devastator that were out of Indy. They had three times the fan base of Corroded Coffin, so probably upwards of twenty people were at the show. Sure, those people were also local musicians that were friends of the main band, but a fan is a fan, shut up.

Since the gig was at a shitty dive bar in the city, the kids couldn't come; but Robin, Jonathan, and Argyle decided to come along, as well as Murray, for some reason. Nancy had flat out said she didn't want to have to ride all that way to stand in a smoky bar and hear music she hated, so nobody tried to talk her into it.

Steve was up front in one of Eddie's home-made Corroded Coffin tee shirts. He was still wearing his light wash jeans and a pair of bright orange earplugs, though, so he didn't entirely fit in, but he wasn't as out of place as he thought he would be. There was a guy in a yellow disco suit in the crowd, after all. 

The gang were having a great time. Murray along with yellow disco suit dude were both at the center of the moshpit, slamming and being slammed, Jonathan and Argyle stood around Steve, helping block the worst of the crowd while Steve's hearing was muffled and he wasn't paying attention to anything but his boyfriend, and Robin was alternating hanging with Steve and going to hang against the wall where it was safest. 

Eddie and the boys seemed so happy and were doing great, aside from a few minor difficulties. One of Eddie's strings broke during their second song, but the guitarist from Devastator was quick to loan Eddie his own guitar for the rest of the set. 

The  rest of the Corroded Coffin set was going smoothly after the guitar swap. The crowd was really into the music, and Eddie looked like a natural up there. He introduced the band members and thanked the audience and Devastator for having them, and then announced that this next song would be their last. 

As the opening notes rang out, Eddie risked a glance at Steve and cringed. He was furious and Eddie would definitely be sleeping on the couch tonight. 

But the thing was, the song ATM Boy really was very catchy. It was daring, it was sexual, it was devious and queer, but above all, it was a bit of an earworm. The audience went nuts for it, they were screaming when the chorus hit and by the final chorus, a bunch of people were singing along. It went over better than they ever even thought it would. 

Which made it all the worse that Steve continued to stare at Eddie as if he had been betrayed in the worst possible way. He just stood there. Eddie had to force himself to concentrate on the crowd, not on Steve. As soon as the set was done, Corroded Coffin grabbed their shit and made way for Devastator while the party surrounded Steve and tried to pretend they hadn't just heard a very intimate fact about their friend, discussing the crowd energy and how good the boys had done and literally anything that wasn't the elephant in the room. Steve did not participate in the conversation at all, he was quietly seething. 

He refused to talk to or be touched by Eddie the entire rest of the night, making sure to put his arm around Robin so that only their party would know he was the so-called ATM boy. The ride home was awkward and a bit tense, but the fight was saved until they were at home, alone in Steve's house. Steve pulled off his Corroded Coffin shirt and threw it at Eddie's face before storming off up the stairs. 

"Baby, I'm sorry! Baby, come on, it was funny!"

"You asshole, you just told all our friends and Murray that I let you… that I… it was a one time thing! Do not think I am ever letting you do that again after you did this!"

"Yeah, that's fair. But baby, it's just shock value! And it's a surprisingly catchy tune, I don't know why it came out that way but it did! I swear I wrote it to make you laugh, but the guys all wanted to play it at the show. I voted not to but was overruled! Come on, please forgive me. Baby? Please? Baby?"

"Ugh... Fine, okay, fine. I forgive you for humiliating me in front of our friends. At least the kids weren't there and only about thirty people heard it. I guess. And now it's over and I won't see most of those people ever again. So, I guess, yeah, it's kinda funny."

"You know I love you and I respect you so much. I'd let you go ATM on me as an apology."

Steve just huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, but he allowed Eddie to kiss him and wrap him in a hug. He was just glad this was the end of it.

Months went by and Steve had nearly forgotten about the whole thing. 

Until Eddie and the Coffin boys recorded their first demo. It wasn't anything professional, it was recorded in a large truckstop bathroom with decent acoustics and it was recorded with a portable cassette recorder, but it was recorded nonetheless. 

They had made a bunch of copies, sent them off to a few radio stations, and sold a bunch to indie record stores, handed them out to friends and sold them at their weekly gig. In the second week, a few new people showed up specifically to buy their tape because they had heard their friend's copy.

Eddie was so excited for the growing buzz that he wasn't thinking when he popped the tape into Steve's stereo to celebrate. He had been very careful to only play Steve Side B, never Side A, up until now. 

As soon as ATM Boy came on, Steve slammed on the brakes so hard Eddie nearly broke his face on the dashboard. When he saw Steve's expression, Eddie thought maybe breaking his face would've been preferable. 

Eddie slept on the couch for a week after that, but Steve eventually forgave him. 

Steve had nearly gone back to a completely normal life free of mortifying embarrassment, having convinced himself only subculture dwelling weirdos had heard the song.

But then a local radio station played ATM Boy. Not just once, they put it into their evening rotation. And then another station farther away picked it up. And then another. And then things spiraled from there. 

The only saving grace was that the radio had censored it. The lyrics were now "he lets me go ah- - t'mouth" though Steve suspected people probably still got the gist of it from the rest of the song. 

Corroded Coffin got signed to a record label and they recorded their first album in an actual studio. On the studio release, it was decided for the lyrics to become "he lets me go A T M" even though "to mouth" did not strictly speaking need censoring, it flowed better. 

ATM Boy, meanwhile, was starting to spread. It reached the billboard Top 100 list and started climbing. The band started touring for real, not just road trips to Indy and Chicago. They started selling out mid-sized venues and meeting other bands and forming friendships with fellow creatives. 

Eddie was finally the rock star he had dreamed of. 

And Steve was struggling to be supportive while also wishing he was invisible and unknown to anyone. He was living in constant fear of being found out. Not just because he wasn’t publicly out, but because Steve did not want to be known as the ATM boy and he felt even being seen in Eddie’s presence would damn him. 

At first he refused to tour with Eddie and the band, but after not seeing his boyfriend for months, Steve was both lonely and worried Eddie would cheat or leave him for someone else. It took Eddie a while to notice how badly Steve was handling everything but once he did, he hired Steve as his hairdresser so that he would be able to drag Steve around and have an on-the-books excuse for his constant presence. He groveled and doted on Steve and tried everything in his power to atone for the embarrassment, paranoia, and distress he had caused the man he loved.

There were many rocky years but they managed to stay together through it all. Caring for Steve and focusing on him was actually what helped Eddie avoid the pitfalls of fame that so many bands fell victim to. Who has time to do drugs when they have so many beautiful moles to kiss and a gorgeous toned back to massage?

And on a talk show, nearly forty years after the song ATM Boy was written, Eddie Munson told the audience about his wonderful husband and about the real ATM boy.

“It wasn't my husband, just some other guy I slept with.” 

Unfortunately, two minutes later in the interview he off-handedly mentioned Steve is the only guy he's ever slept with or dated.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

makeup on men

Y’all ever notice how companies irl can be so ridiculous in trying to help men maintain their “masculinity” by making traditionally feminine products sound “more manly”????? Like calling foundation for men “war paint” because MEN CAN’T WEAR MAKEUP, THAT’S ONLY FOR GIRLS

Then you got the TWST boys casually slaying it in makeup for a lot of their looks 😩 I just KNOW Vil would not approve of companies that make pointlessly gendered products like the friggin' war paint men's foundation and the "for women" pink pens/j Lazy or finicky characters like Leona and Floyd, and introverts who don’t want to be seen in public like Idia will still do their makeup. Even the traditionally “manly men” like Jack don’t think twice about eyeshadow and eyeliner. No one dismisses makeup as something “just for girls” or something that threatens their sense of self or masculinity. At most, they may complain about how bothersome it is to so makeup, but don’t talk it down as a strictly feminine hobby. Makeup is embraced as a normal thing, even required at some NRC events (like the opening ceremony, which requires smoky eye makeup and thick eyeliner).

The one exception here is maybe Epel, who comes from a village with very conservative views on gender roles. However, he has recently started to change and reconsider his opinions; this was a point of contention in book 5 that served as major character growth for him. I just think that's a really neat thing (of many neat things!) about Twisted Wonderland! ^^

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Spell

Words: 985

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius dragged himself up the stairs to their dormitory. He’d just finished the last of ten detentions with Professor Slughorn for being caught trying to sneak Amortentia out of the classroom. It wasn’t his fault that it smelled like the forbidden forest after it had rained, mixed with something sweet and a little bit smoky. Addictive, almost.

Ok, Sirius knew exactly what it meant, but it was fine. He’d just take a little sample of the potion. (and, what, sniff it discreetly? Seems very normal.) Yeah, he hadn’t fully thought it through, which made the detentions even more annoying.

He thought the others would be out doing map reconnaissance and maybe he’d manage to fall asleep before they got back.

What he didn’t expect to find, was Remus Lupin, pressed against the door of their dorm by Caradoc Dearborn. He turned to retreat to the common room but they heard him and Dearborn had pushed Remus back in an attempt to create distance between them, the back of his head making a solid thunk on the heavy door. Oh no this had suddenly become very awkward.

Remus was pointedly not looking at him, gently rubbing the back of his head and Dearborn looked… a mixture of scared and angry? Sirius thought.

“I thought you said they’d be out.” He hissed at Remus, who shrugged.

“Detention finished a bit early,” Sirius said. “Although if you wanted privacy, the inside of the door would probably have been a better choice,”

Caradoc scowled at him, “You saw nothing, Black.” He strode past Sirius and down the stairs without so much as a glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes and opened the door to the dorm.

Sirius blinked, looking from the now-empty stairs to the place where Remus had stood. What the fuck?

He entered the dorm and closed the door behind him a little more forcefully than was necessary. Remus spun around and looked at him questioningly. Sirius shook his head and headed for the bathroom.

He splashed his face with cold water and threw his hair up into something resembling a bun. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to smooth out the lines between his eyebrows and soften his eyes somehow. But really, what the fuck?

When he felt a bit more together, he headed for his bed.

“Why are you angry, Pads?” Remus was sitting on his bed, clutching a book in both hands.

“I’m not—”

“Sirius.” Remus looked at him, “Why?”

“I just… I think you could kiss better people, that’s all.” It was the truth, just not all of it.

“It’s not his fault, really.” Remus said quietly. “He’s still figuring stuff out.”

“So he should have the common sense not to kiss you where people are almost certainly going to see!” Sirius tried to keep his volume in check, he really did.

“Probably.” Remus agreed.

“No, he can’t get mad at you for a decision he made.” Sirius knew he should just shut up and get into bed.

“It doesn’t matter.” Remus set the book down beside him, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine, Moony.” He snapped. “Does your head hurt?”

Remus paused, “Not much. But that was just a knee-jerk reaction. You surprised us.”

“He didn’t apologise though, did he?”

“Sirius, what’s your problem?” Remus stood up. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Sirius said, without thinking.

Remus took a step towards him. “I honestly might.” He said wearily.

“You. Deserve. Better.” Sirius’ fists were clenched at his sides.

“Yeah, like who? It’s hard enough finding queer guys here, then when you factor in that I’m a half-blood werewolf with no fucking money or prospects, the pickings are pretty fucking slim. Who did you have in mind, Sirius? Who exactly should I be kissing instead of Dearborn?” Remus said, closing in on Sirius. Sirius could see his pulse in his neck.

“Me!” He roared, even though Remus was less than a metre away. “Me, Moons,” he repeated softer, his voice cracking slightly.

Remus stared at him, face unreadable. “That’s low, even for you.” He turned to move towards his own bed, but Sirius grabbed his wrist. “It’s not a joke, Padfoot. I’m not a joke.”

“Oh, Merlin’s arsecrack and saggy fucking balls! I know you’re not a joke, and what I said wasn't a joke.” Remus was still frowning at him. “I’m not good at feelings. I don’t— Naming them is hard. But I do know, that what I felt earlier was envy or jealousy or maybe both, I don’t know. And then just… angry, I guess, that he was a dick to you.”

“Well, I got the last bit, funnily enough.” Remus muttered, “But the rest, I didn’t— You mean it?” Sirius nodded, “And these feelings, is that a new thing?”

Sirius shook his head slowly, “No, it sort of crept up on me, I didn’t realise until my birthday.”

Remus looked at him like he was an idiot, “That was seven months ago.”

“I’m quite aware of that.” He noted that Remus hadn’t said anything about reciprocating his feelings and his heart sank.

It must have shown on his face because Remus’ eyebrows tilted slightly in the way they did when any of them were hurting. “Pads.” He said in a low voice. He seemed to be weighing up what to say next, but then he took another step towards Sirius and they were almost chest to chest. He could feel Remus’ breath on his lips and oh fuck this was actually going to happen.

“Please.” Was all Sirius needed to whisper to get Remus to lean in and kiss him finally. He let go of Remus’ wrist and pulled him closer by his shirt, wrapping an arm around his waist. He tasted like smoke and chocolate and until James burst through the door thirty seconds later, it was utterly perfect.

[delicatebarness]

good graces: a cry baby story | prologue

Summary: A new threat is on the horizon for our favorite bikers.

Warning: Mentions of Violence and Law Breaking.

Word Count: 459

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: You didn't think you'd get rid of the gang that easily did you? - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Cry Baby: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

In the heart of the city, where the sound of engines roaring echoed like the growl of a guard dog, the Avengers rule the streets. They were more than a biker gang– they were a family forged in the fire of rebellion and held together by a shared disdain for the law. For years, they hung from the edge of chaos, their criminal acts shielded by the invisible hand of corruption. That hand belonged to Officer Nicholas J Fury, a man whose badge was as tarnished as the brass it was made from.

Officer Fury had been their guardian devil, a man who wore the blue uniform of justice yet, whose soul was sold to the highest bidder. With well-placed bribes or whispered threats, he kept the Avenegrs’ transgressions buried deep beneath the layers of bureaucratic red tape. The gang’s leader, Steve Rogers, trusted Fury’s greed almost as much as he trusted his family’s loyalty. Fury’s retirement, then, was an unthinkable disruption, a thundering storm cloud on the horizon that threatened to expose them all.

The news broke in the smoky bar that served the Avengers’. It was a dimly lit sanctuary, where the smell of stale beer was mixed with the tang of gasoline and the slightest hint of vanilla. The walls were adorned with the scars of countless brawls. Steve stood at the head of the back corner booth, his face etched in a grimace as he read the headline: “Veteran Officer Nicholas Fury Announces Retirement.” 

Silence fell over the gang as Steve’s voice cut through the din. “Fury’s stepping down,” he announced, his words heavy with apprehension. “In a month, he’s hanging up the badge for good.” 

The booth erupted into a cacophony of curses and anxious murmurs. The Avengers knew what this meant. Without Fury to protect them, every illicit deal and violent act would be exposed to the unforgiving light of day. Their shadows would crumble, and the hounds of the law would be at their throats.

The gang's minds raced, calculating their next move. They had a month to find a new ally within the force or to straighten out. The clock was ticking, and the stakes had never been higher. 

Worried glances and hushed plans were exchanged throughout the booth, and Steve felt the weight of leadership bearing down on him like never before. They had survived countless fights, but this would be their greatest challenge yet. The game was changing and they must learn to adapt or face obliteration. 

As the night wore on, the Avengers laid out their strategy, their plans hinging on precarious possibilities. Steve’s mind was swirling with thoughts and fears, but one thing remained clear– he would protect his family, especially his sister, no matter the cost.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[monmorgandy]

Sky on fire over the Great Smokies - 4698 by J & W Photography Via Flickr: Facebook | FAA The cloudless sky over 2 weeks last October in the Great Smoky Mountains has finally ended with a fierce glow of a golden Autumn sunrise. Our patience finally got rewarded. We drove up to a popular overlook in the dark well before the sunrise. The sky was almost pitch dark with layers of overcast clouds. The light show began at dawn and the colorful autumn trees were bathed with glows reflecting the burning sky with full intensity.