#work in a theatre enough to live and write

[vigilskeep]

Do we know enough about how Crow succession and talonship works to believe it would be possible for Viago to take the seat of first talon either through some sort of non-violent coup in the absence of an heir to house Dellamorte or through marrying his kid (rook) off to Lucanis? Asking because I really don't know and would love to write something in that direction...and you seem a crow enthusiast...also love your blog

THEORETICALLY. yes.

we haven’t seen the talons shift directly, but they do shift, with regularity. house arainai was first talon in living memory and then fell slowly downwards to their current point where they’re struggling in and out of eight talon like a drowning man who keeps finding his way to air for just enough breath

the eight talons system, if you’ll allow me the tangent, is a really fascinating choice of fantasy hierarchy because it is such a clear hierarchy. among a bunch of ambitious killers whose prime goal is notoriety. you can only hold each position here if everyone below you is too afraid to do anything about it. what an anxiety trip it must be to decide whether to push someone down just one rung or to try to destroy them entirely; do you want to leave your rival with more opportunity or more motivation? but crow power is also all about theatre, all about perception—you are first or fifth or seventh talon primarily because everyone agrees that you are—so making a failed gambit for a higher talon has got to be incredibly damaging. which is a risky setup. it discourages attempts, but when someone does make an attempt, they will not be fucking around

anyway ignore all that we’re talking about soft takeovers today. okay so house dellamorte has a dying core family, theoretically. we’re making the assumption that no surviving young children from any branch of the family are mentioned because none exist. we have two heirs, neither very acceptable (my apologies to caterina’s delusions), both men in their 30s with (again, assumed) no children, and neither making much progress in that regard. (arguably dependent on player choice when it comes to lucanis, but since he can fall in love with and express his undying devotion to any kind of rook, we can at least say he’s not making that much effort.) within a generation the core family may die out. but that is a LONG TIME to wait. you still have to deal with the current ones, they’re pretty robust

lucanis is the current first talon as of the end of veilguard. can he be convinced to give this up and hand first talon over to someone better suited? i do believe it. mostly because i need to believe, for my mental health, that we can get him out of there. but he also now has a fairly bulky support system full of people who love him and will notice how bad this is going to be and convince him he deserves things like a life he doesn’t hate

as always your main problem is caterina. caterina is not going to allow a takeover, soft or otherwise, while she is still alive. caterina didn’t give up first talon when they murdered her children. there’s probably an emotional plot in here where she can be made to accept what she’s done to her family, far too late, but with time left to save just one by letting him go. on the other hand, i’ve also been experimenting with plots in my mind where she tries to quietly get rid of viago or romanced rook for having too much influence, with the added benefit on hopefully being able to steel & refocus lucanis on defending the house against whoever she frames. or plots where she blames lucanis trying to leave and not being the boy she remembers on his, you know, demonic possession, and attempts to forcibly remove or destroy spite. so. there’s potential ups and downs, here.

i don’t know how helpful rook de riva/lucanis is. most of your problem here is that everything that sets this ending up by giving the de rivas more power, and by giving any rook more power over lucanis, is something that in my mind would crank caterina’s wariness all the way up. house de riva surely has to move up from fifth already after the events of the game and look more like a contender, and i don’t think even caterina’s delusions about lucanis’ suitability for first talon could make her blind to the effect rook can obviously have. i definitely think she would delay on a marriage and have the power to do that

i think it’s worth saying that rook de riva at any point bringing up to lucanis the idea of handing things over to viago would be a hell of a conversation. i know lucanis never remotely suspects rook of any agenda and trusts them completely, and i know i agree with rook here, but you’ve GOT to see how “i love you and having power is bad for you and what you should do is hand it all over to my talon” sounds. i truly could not blame him for a bit of doubt here especially if caterina was around to suggest it

sorry this is a completely messy and disconnected response. i don’t even know if i had a point. you might have to wait for caterina to actually die? is that my point? i can see rook de riva/lucanis being helpful to ease a transition of power to house de riva then. i also think it’s worth pointing out that teia might be the better contender for all this out of the two lovebirds. what quietly makes teia probably the most dangerous talon in the crows, if she ever chose to be, is that everyone likes her. i’m not joking or trying to handwave crow politics, it’s a form of soft power and the result of her cultivated skill that nobody ever suspects teia of anything. even caterina treats her gently, and literally a talon who tried to murder all the others in tevinter nights was delaying murdering her because she was his favourite. if anyone can handle a gentler transition like what we’re talking about, maybe it’s more likely to be teia

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

wish i could post my paintings of theatre stuff here bc i'm really proud of those (my theatre keeps making amazing adaptations with SUPER COOL costume and lighting and setting and colour and visual symbolism choices) but alas. the chance is low but very definitely above zero that i'd doxx myself HARDCORE. but maaaan. trust me when i say that stage is just plain amazing. i need to live in the theatre

[yououghtaknow]

hard thing about Being Me is i will write things that are So Good but i cannot show them to people because it will mentally destroy them

[jessieren]

I was trying to rack my brains for what to post for Thursday Thursday and then this beauty appeared on my dash

Thank you @magnificentgardenerdinosaur

notmoreflippingelves requested: favorite familial relationship in endeavour - the thursdays (+ their adopted son morse)

- there’s one rule in this house… - where do we leave work? - on the hall stand, by the front door.

[certified-bi]

Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

[rad-batson]

The Batkids and The Arts (Feral Edition)

They’re all musical theatre nerds. Every single one of them. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, Tim, Duke, Damian. They go see Broadway shows together then don’t stop talking about it for like a week. It is the one bonding activity they will never pass up.

Jason and Steph once entered a ballroom dancing competition and won after some pompous rich kids insulted their moves during a gala. Since then, they’ve entered a competition every month or so just for fun. (And for the prize money :P)

Tim is an avid believer that Culinary Art is one of The Arts. (Can he cook? Absolutely not. It was Bernard that convinced him, but he stands by it.)

Duke talks through every single movie he watches. He always promises to be quiet at the beginning, but then he gets too excited and whispers commentary to the people around him. This habit has since bled into the entire family. They are no longer welcome at the local AMC.

Every single one of them is pretentious about something.

Dick is pretentious about any and all performance arts featured at the circus. Once, someone made a joke about going to “Clown School” and Dick screamed at them about how not even their pinky would have the privilege of being admitted into clown school.

Jason is pretentious about classic literature. They can no longer tell if his jokes and references to Shakespeare and Jane Austen are correct or if he’s just fucking with them.

Cass gets pretentious about martial arts being a performance art. She is also pretentious about ballet being a martial art. She could kill a man in fifth position without losing her balance, and that’s a fucking fact.

Stephanie is very good at acting pretentious about the arts. She absorbs everything she’s learned from the rest of the bat family’s interests then pretends to be pretentious about it to mock them while sneaking in just enough correct information so no one can call her out on it. (Her true interest is graphic design.)

Tim has no professional experience with photography, but he will be pretentious about it like he knows everything. (Bruce: Tim, why is there a filter on this evidence photo you took? Tim: I thought it looked nicer that way. Really makes the blood splatter pop.)

Duke isn’t exactly pretentious about writing, but he will lay down his life for the Oxford comma. (Bruce didn’t use it until Duke called the punctuation in his mission reports “insulting.” He now uses it.)

Damian is pretentious about studio art. If he ever hears his family or friends say, “I don’t get it,” at an art museum, he will make them look at it for five minutes as he explains in painstaking detail what’s so revolutionary about it.

The kids decided to take an improv class together once for their undercover work while Bruce and Alfred were out of town. It was so fun that they still play improv games when they’re bored.

Cass is secretly a metalhead.

Whenever one of the younger kids needs to write an English paper, they will just walk up to Jason, riddle off a dumb opinion about the book or poem they had to read, and record whatever Jason ends up lecturing them about. The most recent incident resulted in an award-winning paper about how the theory that William Shakespeare never wrote his own work is deeply rooted in classism.

Damian always has paint under his nails. It just never comes out.

Dick has personally taught everyone in the family how to do The Perfect Backflip. They all get a little ceremony once they’ve mastered it. There is cake.

Whenever Cass is standing around with nothing to do, she’ll practice her foot positions for ballet. The others always notice and follow her lead.

Jason: dramatically recites a poem in the living room Steph: starts beatboxing

Steph is always the first to find typos or continuity errors in a book, play, or movie. She doesn’t intend to; it’s just second nature to her. (She is now Duke’s official proofreader.)

Duke: So how’d you like the movie? Damian: I really loved the mise-en-scène, especially during the breakfast scene and that one shot near the end with the warehouse doors. Duke: *nods thoughtfully* Everyone Else Leaving the Theater: wtf is a meez on sen?

When Duke is finished writing something and wants to share it with his family, he’ll give it to Jason and Cass first.

Jason and Duke have frequent passionate arguments discussions about who is the best poet. Never bring up Dickinson, Poe, Shakespeare, Hughes, Plath, Wilde, Kipling, Sappho, or Angelou in their vicinity unless you want to start it up again.

Damian is surprisingly good at acting. Too good.

Dick knows your music taste before you do. He has a carefully curated playlist for every single family member, every possible combination of family members, and every possible mood at the ready.

They can and will correct anyone who mistakes Gothic architecture for Victorian or Gothic Revival and vice versa. (It’s really a Gotham thing.)

Tim: How dare you call The Grand Budapest Hotel the best prison break movie when it’s clearly The Shawshank Redemption! Jason: Well, as someone who’s BEEN TO PRISON, I think I should know! Dick: It’s clearly Chicken Run! You’re all just Chicken-ist. Duke: But what about Midnight Express?! That one’s so good! Steph: Has anyone mentioned Toy Story 3 yet? No? Damian, watching from the sidelines: I liked Escape from Alcatraz. Cass: Same.

There are several art pieces in the manor that have been positioned directly over top of bullet holes and other suspicious damages.

Damian and Duke made an animated short film once for the Gotham Film Festival. Dick and Cass were their models for the concept art. Tim did historical research. Jason helped Duke edit the storyboard, and Steph was the continuity supervisor. It was about a British super spy working for MI6 that saved the world in the late 70’s. It was titled Agent A.

[wnbnny]

꒰ forever and a day ⭑ ꒱ - y.jh

genre ⋆ slice of life, est. relationship, fluff w small bit of angst, jeonghan x fem.reader! | wc ⋆ 0.9k | author's note ⋆ i was listening to fireworks & rollerblades & forever & a day is my favourite song on the album so i decided to write abt it >< listen to forever and a day as you read <3 | not proofread bc i wrote this at 3 a.m >< tw ⋆ reader is mentioned as 'wife', insecurities

i started driving through the hills, told me to come and get you

"hannie?" you called out softly, head peeking out from your shared bedroom's door. jeonghan raised his head, locking eyes with you. "yes?" he hummed, eyes filled with an unreadable softness and emotion you couldn't quite place.

no words convey the way it felt for me to finally hold you

"can... can i join you on the couch?" you asked tentatively, not wanting to bother him and disrupt his peace when he looked so cozy curled up on the couch. "of course baby, you don't have to ask. c'mere," he stretched out his arms, an open invitation for you to mold perfectly into.

in my arms just long enough to know

you took a step forward, and it wasn't long before you had finally crossed over the expanse of the living room to stand in front of him. you climb onto the couch, afraid to accidentally step on his limbs, tangled up in the heavy yet soft blankets. settling your head on his shoulder, you were enveloped in a comforting warmth, jeonghan's arm subconsciously pulling you closer into his side. the tv was playing an old rom-com, and the two of you settled into comfortable silence as you cuddled.

know every word you're gonna say before you even think it 

"she's so pretty," you comment, eyes fixated on the actress on screen. it fills your heart with a pang of mixed envy and sadness, insecurities coming to the surface. what if jeonghan thought you were ugly and left you for someone better? there were so many prettier women out there, ones that had beauty you could only dream of. the nagging feeling in the back of your mind grew even louder, drowning out the background noise. your hands, tangled in the blankets, fisted them slightly, clenching as you tried to futilely conquer the negative thoughts. jeonghan frowned, noting your fidgeting which could only mean one thing. "hey, you're prettier," he remarks, looking down at you. "thanks," you murmur, but jeonghan can immediately tell you don't believe him. "i mean it." he furrows his brows, and cups your chin to make you face him. his brown orbs bear into yours, hoping to get the message accross. you nodded slowly, the dullness in your eyes slightly disappearing, but not completely gone. he would work on convincing you, jeonghan vows. for now, he settles back into the cozy silence as you watch the sitcom.

but somehow, every joke you make is funnier each time around

"did you hear about the new store? you should visit it sometime, i've heard it's really good," you ponder. you and jeonghan are at the park, out on a date. "sounds great, but it would be better if i had you to accompany me," jeonghan leans in, a playful smirk on his face. you giggle and blush, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. "oh, shut up, you big flirt."

your laugh is such a perfect sound

jeonghan watches as you giggle as you chatter with your friends, a fond smile on his face. you look radiant and happy, and he vows he will do whatever he can to always keep that smile on your face.

these butterflies lived a million lives to say

you blush, watching as jeonghan leans down to tie your shoelaces for you in the middle of a movie theatre, butterflies in your stomach. "done," he finishes with a smile, standing to press a featherlight kiss against your knuckles as you beam up at him.

i swear I've known you longer than

"oh my gosh, remember when we first met? i literally spilled coffee all over you," you laugh, on another day with jeonghan, this time at a cozy cafe. "you looked like you were on the verge of crying," jeonghan chuckles, then adds softly, "you were cute." 

i don't believe in destiny but i might have to say

"hannie?" you ask, and he hums in response. "yes?" "do you believe in destiny?" you ask, curious. "hmm... not really. i think you get to choose how your life turns out, whether through your actions or decisions," he explains, and you ponder on his answer thoughtfully.

your melodies, they're changing me

this time, you and jeonghan and sitting on the floor of the living room, christmas lights twinkling merrily on the colourful christmas tree in the corner. jeonghan is singing, strumming on his guitar, and then cozy warmth of the hot cocoa you hold in your hands envelops you in a soft, fluffy cocoon of love.

i'm yours, forever and a day

you and jeonghan stand under an archway, hands intertwined and cheeks flushed, giddy with excitement. he was dressed in a sharp tuxedo - and you in the most stunningly beautiful white dress that seemed to flow like water. "i, yoon jeonghan, promise to take y/n l/n as my wife, to have and to hold, from this day onward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. i promise to love and cherish you, to be the rock for you to lean on when you're down and had a bad day at work. i promise to be the one you can trust and confide in, to pour your burdens and insecurities to, and if i could, i would take them all from you, so that you may always have that radiant bright smile on your face i love so much. i promise to love you, forever and a day."

mastertag : @starseungs

[doraminatook]

We're About To Get Playfully Blasphemous Here (or...The Metaphorical Death and Resurrection of Me)

2023 was the year I turned 33, and in case you didn’t know, many religious scholars cite that as the age Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead.  Now, within literature there’s a trope called the Christ-like figure in which a character sacrifices themself and from that death, something happens in order to advance the plot.  Usually that something is either the “dead” character rising from the ashes and obtaining new powers (think Gandalf the Grey battling the Balrog and then coming back as Gandalf the White) or the protagonist being so moved by the death of this secondary character that they are reborn in some way (think Red Badge of Courage’s Jim Conklin (JC…get it?) whose death changes Henry’s opinion on war.)

Because I’m a storyteller and have a dark sense of humor, I began to wonder if I would somehow have a Christ-like-figure-moment within my thirty-third year of life.  (Not long after my birthday, I told my mom that I just had to make it to 34 and then I would have “beaten” Jesus; being a good Lutheran woman, she did not appreciate this joke.)

Now, I may be reaching or forcing figurative imagery into the literal world (isn’t that what artists do?), but I think I did have a “death” and consequential “resurrection”.  

I’m at a strange place in my writing career in that I am not famous (by any means) but I’m also not considered emerging.  Recently, I was told by a theater that I should “sit this contest out” and give someone else a chance but at the same time my work has not been produced enough to catch an agent’s eye.  (It doesn’t help that theatre companies have an intense fixation on world premieres.  They want to be the first one to do the show, apparently assuming that as soon as a piece gets produced once, that means it’s finished.  But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Currently I live in Milwaukee and for a long time I thought (or at least hoped) that I could maybe just make it work here; it is technically a theater town.  Add to that the fact that my whole family lives in Wisconsin, my financial situation was not ideal, and my best friend (platonic soulmate) had made it fairly clear to me that she did not wish to move away from Milwaukee.  When I was honest with myself, I knew that I wanted to get out, but there were so many things holding me back from making the jump.  

As soon as the thought of moving away entered my head, Anxiety would perk up.  Always eager to be the backseat driver, it would shout things like, “Isn’t life here good enough for you?  You’ve got a roof over your head, a job that allows you to pursue your passion, and you’re perfectly healthy.  Be grateful for what you have and stop expecting something more!” 

I attended a workshop for other playwrights from the area and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I didn’t have a lot in common with many of them.  Discussions and questions whirled around about how we find time to write, where we get inspiration, and how we format a script properly.  Some of the writers present had never even finished a full script.  I certainly am not bringing this up in order to shame anyone, but it was an eye-opening experience for me.  Was I a proverbial big fish in a little pond?

My anxiety had an opinion for that, too.  

“Wow!  Way to be egotistical, D!  You think you’re so much better than everyone here?  Get over yourself!  You’re not special.  You’re just another ‘artist’ who thinks they’ve got something special to say!”

A few weeks later I was at my cousin’s wedding and after the ceremony, he approached me to offer congratulations for all the success I’ve had…only to then immediately cut me off guard with the question, “So when are you moving to New York?”  As the groom, he was quickly called away for photographs and I never really got to answer his question.  

If this moment had been in a play, the spotlight would have hit me right then and there and I would have begun some contemplative soliloquy where I openly pondered, “New York, eh?  Maybe I should go to New York!”

Obviously, as a theatre person, the idea of moving to New York had crossed my mind; it’s the theatre capital of the US for obvious reasons.  But, at the same time, New York just didn’t feel like me.  (I have a lot of opinions on NYC, especially when it comes to the outrageous ticket prices.  When it costs a small fortune to see a Broadway show, art becomes a luxury rather than a necessity.  But that’s a rant for another day.)  It certainly seemed daunting, and every good dream should be at least a little daunting.  But New York was daunting without being exciting.  It felt like something I should do…something that was expected of me.

LA didn’t do it for me, either.  Nor Seattle.  I considered many locations, but nothing really made me sit up and take notice.  I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into debt and throw away a good thing unless it was something that truly excited me…something that was enticing enough to spark a change.  

Again, Anxiety spoke up, “Calm the fuck down, D!  New York?  Even if that is what you wanted, they’d eat you alive there!  You’re a soft midwestern girl who can’t take criticism and cries at the drop of a hat!  You really think you could handle New York or LA?  Also, the cost of living in any of those places is way more than you will ever hope to make!  Stick with Submission Helper.  Stick with the contests and the festivals.  Go back to dreaming only as big as The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre.  Sit down and shut up!”

It may have gone on like this…if not for the summer of 2023.

Close your eyes and picture it: WGA strike, Barbenheimer, The Eras Tour, OceanGate, the Grimace Birthday shake…and in the midst of it all, I was having an epiphany.  

A favorite television show of mine dropped its latest season and I eagerly pulled out the Chardonnay and the popcorn to binge it all.  The vast majority of the show takes place in London and features several actors whom I admire greatly.  Between the giggles, sobs, and various twists and turns of the emotional rollercoaster that was Season 2, something all at once occurred to me.

This is what I want.  

That’s where I want to be.  

I want to move to the United Kingdom.

Was it daunting?  Hell yeah, it was daunting.  

And it was exciting.  

It was a dream that excited me.  

It burned inside me.  

It raged.

It burned so hot that I didn’t know what to do with it.  I paced around my tiny apartment, simply stunned by the prospect of it all.  

Anxiety was in the process of drinking a quad shot espresso con panna and promptly did a spit take upon hearing this new idea.  In a frenzied panic, it bellowed, “Are you nuts?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  YOU can’t move to the UK!  It would be so difficult!  You’d need to apply for a Visa…or something like that!  Do you even know how to apply for a Visa!”  

“No,” I metaphorically replied, “but I could learn.”

“I bet it’s super difficult!” Anxiety shot back, trembling in fear, “I bet it’s expensive and complicated and you’ll never figure it out!  I bet your sense of humor wouldn’t translate!  I bet you’d end up broke and living under a bridge and crying because you threw away this good thing you had!”

For a split second, Anxiety almost won…but somehow, prompted by the promise of this new dream, I dared to ask, “But what if it worked out?  What if I could figure it out?  What if I somehow scraped up the money and did the research and filed the paperwork and just made it work?”

If it were a play, I would have been standing center stage, staring out into the audience like some kind of dramatic hero and whispering hopefully, “Yes…what if…?”  

It has been a long road to get here, but, despite what Anxiety likes to tell me, I did figure it out.  The process has been stressful enough to induce atypical Shingles and a few anxiety attacks, but it’s happening.  It’s actually happening!

This October I’m going to grad school at the University of Essex where I’ll pursue my masters degree in Scriptwriting.  I’ll hone my skills as a playwright while learning the ins and out of writing for film, television, and radio.  I’ll take the train into London on the weekends and see every show I can at the National Theatre.  I’ll get new life experiences.  I’ll do my best to explore every inch of that beautiful island.  I’m going to do something new because it’s scary and, most importantly, it’s exciting.  

(To add to the awesomeness of this new adventure, my best friend (platonic soul mate) is moving with me and pursuing her own dreams of studying acting…also at the University of Essex.)

My “death” was not as dramatic or world-changing as Jesus’s, but it gave way to a new life for me.  The power of storytelling combined with a newfound confidence was enough to catapult me into something new, something different.    

And I know you’re wondering what show I was watching that prompted this sudden change; if you know anything about me, you’ve probably guessed it already.  

Along with seeing as much theatre as I can on my visits to London, I also plan to have surreptitious meetings at The Bandstand, feed ducks some frozen peas at St. James’s Park, and maybe help avert an apocalypse (or two).  My birthday is in January and it just so happens that Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming around that time; perhaps on my winter holiday, I’ll put myself onto a train and take myself up to Edinburgh.  I have so many thoughts on what could possibly happen next to my favorite angel and demon…but that’s a rant for another day.

(Fun fact: I say this line at least once a week...if only to myself.)

[iliadicjasontodd]

Do you have any Jason AO3 fic recommendations? Or just DC AO3 fic recommendations in general?

Hello! Hi, yes I do.

So, of course, anything by yutro @boyfridged, first of all, such as paint it over, black out days, & leave no trace, but genuinely all of their work is incredible. They understand Jason on a fundamental level- though to say he understands only Jason that deeply would do him and his writing which is so, so skilled, a disservice :))

the clay steals the clay by zipadeea is beautiful.

I'm sure you're familiar with it, but PLUTO. by orpheusaki @damianbugs is, imo, a classic. It recalls some of the feeling of some of the best parts of Countdown for me, for obvious reasons.

all of ceramicheart's (who I'm not certain would want me linking his tumblr blog!) work also- in particular redshift, but all of that series and, like I said, I love all of her work. ultimate Kyle Rayner understander & beautiful writer.

What the Living Do, Anonymous, is one of my favourite fics, esp as someone trying to give Jason Cotard's Delusion at every possible occasion.

last word WISDOM better get some even too late by Esmenet is one of my favourite fics point-blank. the Anne Carson of it all...

Get Used to Dying, by papered_king is one I always associate with the above, stylistically also! Love the meta of this, love theatre as horror.

a second darkness by vlnlr @batphobique. This absolutely blew me away, and the script format was, personally, a major bonus. I will probably be reading this over and over again.

mushrooms at sunrise by bleepbloopskoodlebop & Amble On (and your friends will surely find you) by Nightsrk both feature Jason dealing with schizophrenia, and I am very, very fond of both.

the Emergency Line series by crucifixinhell

i am what i am by luuma.

dirt by sunspikes. It's horror to me.

Time Loop fic! Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns)

The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca.

Smashing Tail Lights by CunningCrow @redactedcrow. I have read this about 5 times. I am still (very patiently) waiting for part two. It was, I think, the fic I read directly after reading Lost Days for the first time.

Apollo by sparkypants. the horror of never letting go!!! the horror of bruce wayne specifically never letting anything go!!!

Incomplete, but which came first (the robin or the grave) by figofswords @figofswords. Two years on I'm still hoping for more but it's very good as is as well!

do you listen to the girl in red, white, and blue? by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap. Stephanie Brown girl of all time Stephanie Brown

Trapped by lurkinglurkerwholurks. I must have read it about 15 times whenever I'm feeling anxious. Because something is wrong with me.

Song of the Insensible by Jade_green.

The Whale by chucklesbuckles if you want some very terrifying Jason, & Get Joker by them (featuring maybe one of the only Harley Quinn depictions in a fanfic I've found compelling, not that I know her well) also!

Your reflection, your bitter deception & dust in my mind by KangaRou.

Bloodstains Won't Make It Matter by skylarkblue.

This is orphaned, but The Last Laugh.

Enough by Lunette3002.

Batman Kills the Joker by DragonflyxParodies & Palimpsest by cabezas_de_vaca both take interesting metatextual approaches to killing that stupid clown.

You're No Hero to this Story, Just Another Wretched Pawn by EventualToast. The way this is written is so genuinely unmooring and perturbing; it feels very authentically like derealisation and the true experience of profound horror despite most of that being magic.

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, I’d feel less like St. Sebastian if you’d stop searching for another arrow by worthy_willow, i know (do you know?) by cuephrase, imperfections can be nice by mikkal, Where You Perfectly Stand by cherrysour, what's in your head? by sinistercacophany @sinistercacophony (also has very good aftg fics, as an andrew enjoyer I come back to their work often), . I am at heart just sentimental about Dick & Jason.

the prophetic spring by yellow_caballero @yellowocaballero. I need you to understand I barely ever approve of Reverse Robin AUs. It's a thing. I talked about it extensively. I don't even care about or actively dislike a lot of the characters this au focuses on but it doesn't even matter here, seeing as I've been a fan of this author's writing for ages. So much tragicomedy. If you, or anyone reading this ask happen to be a fan of TMA do yourselves a favour and go read their TMA work also.

Late Night Langoustining by whaleofatime. I rarely read fluff but I'm very fond of this one.

Stage Directions by confusedrambler.

I mention sparingly but arkham!jason was my first foray into DC at all- and so naturally Ill Weeds Grow Apace by LananiA3O is something I've come back to, mostly for nostalgia nowadays. And trauma of course.

So if you want to absolutely ruin your entire day and possibly week and possibly several months, Of Broken, Blazing Wings by FrEShAVocaNoob. It absolutely wrecked me, I felt genuinely unwell after, but it was worth it.

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorised by Batbirdies & the Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul series by bacondoughnut are others I think everyone knows, but I thought I'd mention them anyway.

Anyway, I'm sure it shows that I've got a bit of one-track mind when it comes to characters I read fic about, but I hope this is a good collection for you. It took me two hours in one sitting but for some reason I can't write an essay for my master's degree? Fascinating.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

d. di. dillo ml <3 could i maybe perhaps get hcs for the boys and a theatre kid! s/o? <3

A/N: I’m a stage manager so I feel qualified to answer these asks. I went down the high school theater train here because it felt the most applicable and I felt most confident writing it so…yeah. Hope you enjoy!

DARRY CURTIS

This man is an absolute saint and unofficially joined your set building crew once your show started because he works in construction kinda sorta and figured what better way to help your show than to help build everything you need

The rest of the cast and crew goes absolutely wild when he shows up the first time because let’s be real folks, Darry is absolutely stunning, incredibly strong, and an absolute gentlemen

He’s wonderful at helping you with lines too, if you need some assistance with memorizing or just someone to talk through them with, Dare is more than happy to help you out

Dare’ll give up his free time for that too, like in the evenings when he wants to do is crawl into bed and catch some rest before having to work again tomorrow, he’ll sit with you in the living room and recite lines until you feel confident

Come show time, he’s sitting in the front row with his brothers, grinning up at you when you’re on stage, clapping the loudest when it’s done <3

He brings you flowers too, a nice little bouquet that he gives to you after you’re done, congratulating you on such a good performance, he’ll tell you every show you do was even better than your last, no matter what happens

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop absolutely loves that you’re an actor, he thinks it’s super duper cool and is literally so in awe of your talent no matter how talented you think you actually are-

He likes to joke, that if he were still in school, he’d be up on stage with you, acting right alongside you, playing every love interest you could ever have on that big stage

The theater director, I’m sure, would have loved to have Sodapop in the plays/musicals because just look at that man’s face and I will bet you actual money that Sodapop can sing too

On those rough days, the days where you can’t remember any of your lines, can’t hit any of your notes, miss every single one of your cues, Sodapop will be there to help you through it

Those days happen, I see them all the time, but Sodapop, with the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard and the sweetest smile on his face, will offer to help you with everything

Come showtime, Sodapop is sitting in that front row, right in the center of the stage, hearts in his eyes and flowers in his hands, eager for you to perform so he can see you doing your thing <3

PONYBOY CURTIS

Guess what buds, Ponyboy Curtis a stage crew kiddo because I said so and now it’s canon in this universe in which these headcanons exist-

He does lights or something, something where he’s around the cast enough to develop a huge crush on you but still separate enough so that he has to make an effort to see you

But once you start dating, Ponyboy finds himself being dragged into the cast circles and into your friend groups more often, being brought more into the acting group of people

One time, and I swear to you it happened one time, he was working one of the spotlights for a rehearsal and was so in awe of your acting talent that he just…forgot…to spot you during your big monologue…

When he notices that he missed his cue, he apologizes like a million times once he finds you again, and when you realize why he missed the cue, please give him a million more kisses because that’s really cute

After you guys finish your show, Ponyboy takes you out to the diner or something and have a little date with you and congratulate you on your job well done!

DALLAS WINSTON

After talking with my dearest friend, thanks a bunch @a-person-who-didnt-wanna-be-here, I finally figured out what I was gonna say about this boyo, I stared at his section for WAY too long

But anyway! If you’re dating Dallas and you’re doing high school theater, prepare yourself for him either asking a shit ton of questions about what you’re working on or absolutely not caring about anything at all

For sure, he’ll show up at your shows and give you a rinky-dink little bouquet of flowers and congratulate you on a job well done and have absolutely no clue about what show you just performed

Dallas will literally get up in the middle of the show and leave because he’s bored when you’re not on the stage and he’ll just hang out outside and smoke until he’s bored of being outside and wants to go back in

If you find yourself in the unfortunate situation where you have to kiss one of your fellow actors for a scene, you don’t have any good options regarding Dallas

Either you tell him before and have to deal with him complaining and threatening your fellow actor or you don’t tell him and run the risk of him finding out <3 good luck!

JOHNNY CADE

Supportive! Boyfriend! To! The! Max! Johnny is absolutely wonderful with a theater kid partner and I just know it all the way done to the marrow in my bones

He would help you run lines, hanging out at your house until the late hours of the night until you’ve got all your lines down and just help you remember them because he just likes you so much

Johnny doesn’t want to be in the plays/musicals and he doesn’t want to be involved with the stage crew either, but he hangs around rehearsals when he can because it beats going home and he likes being able to walk you back to your house when it gets late and stuff

The rest of the cast loves him though, he’s a sweetheart and a little cutie and ya know, he just, he never does anything wrong. He’s a little baby boy and I love him-

He comes to all your shows! You can always find him sitting in the audience cheering for you at curtain calls and waving when he catches your attention

Johnnykid tries to get the rest of the boys to come with him too, mostly Ponyboy, because he wants to show off how talented you are and all that good jazz!

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit is not in any of the shows. He’s never on a cast list, never in the crew, he doesn’t help with anything at all. But he’s always at rehearsals-

Why is he wasting his time at rehearsals you may ask? Why is he spending afternoons in that old theater, sitting in the uncomfortable seats and watching people practice a show he’s not even in? Oh, it’s because of you, of course!

He doesn’t do much, especially not when he’s got you sitting next to him, and a majority of his time is spent sitting with you and running his mouth about the other cast members and stuff

A large chunk of what he says are compliments on your acting and mumbled remarks into your ear about how you’re better than whoever is on stage or how the two of you could be off somewhere else, doing something else…

But everyone else thinks he’s kinda funny and he doesn’t cause too many problems when he’s around cause you keep him on enough of a leash that anything he does can be considered more funny than problematic

When opening weekend rolls around, he tells everyone he knows to come see you perform, hyping you up consistently and making sure when you come out for bows, you’ve got an audience full of people waiting there to cheer you on!

STEVE RANDLE

I feel like I boil Steve’s character down to a cheerleader boyfriend way too often but like- that’s just the way he is- I don’t know what else you want me to say-

But anyways, just imagine for a moment, sitting in the garage of the DX while Steve’s covered in grease, working underneath a car, while you sit pretty by the toolboxes and run lines with him

He offers to pick you up from rehearsals and drive you home for multiple reasons because a) he likes taking care of you, b) he likes hearing about your rehearsal, and c) he’d never miss an opportunity to drive you around

He drags Sodapop along to your shows because he feels weird going by himself but still really wants to show up out of the blue and surprise you by sitting in the audience with flowers

Triple bonus boyfriend points, he takes you out for dinner after your final show to congratulate you on a job well done and treat you to something while simultaneously showing you off!

While you’re rehearsing and stuff, he calls you his superstar because he’s goofy like that and will state how you’re the next rising star and compare you to all these famous actors/actresses and ask you not to forget about him once you make it to Broadway

TIM SHEPARD

Tim popped by your rehearsal one time because…I don’t even know why, probably cause you forgot your script at his house or something and everyone absolutely lost it cause Big Bad Tim Shepard is at a theater rehearsal

He doesn’t really talk to anyone but you, handing over that script and offering to pick you up after you’re done and take you out to dinner or something <3

Tim’s a pain in the ass to work on lines with, but he’ll help you out if you really need a hand with memorizing them-

I’m getting this visual of you sitting in the Shepard kitchen late at night, deep in thought at the kitchen table while Tim sits on the opposite side and reads from your script, feeding you lines when you need a little hint

He drops you off at the theater on opening day, way earlier than the actual showtime because call times are a thing and they absolutely suck, but he sends you off on your way with a good luck kiss

Tim doesn’t sit in the front row, doesn’t sit with your family, doesn’t bring anyone else along with him, but he’s there at your shows and always gives you a little wave when you bow, winking at you when he manages to catch your eye

CURLY SHEPARD

Imma just be real with you, there’s a really high chance that Curly might be thrown in reform during your show run, he’s a delinquent and ya know, he has a rough time staying out of the pen sometimes

In that case ^^ he sends Tim in his stead so that Tim can tell him all about how you did so that Curly can shower you with praise once he gets out

If he’s not in the pen! Yay! He comes to all of your shows and never buys a ticket, sneaking in every time because no one’s gonna stop him from seeing you perform during your big moments

He hangs out during rehearsals, causing a ruckus when he can and loping off with a smug smirk when he gets kicked out, after blowing you a kiss of course

Curly’s not gonna bring you flowers but it’s not because he doesn’t care it’s just cause he doesn’t have the money or the memory to get you flowers so he just gives you a bunch of kisses instead!

Random to finish, but don’t ever try and get Curly to run your lines with you because he’ll end up turning it into some sort of, remember-a-line-and-you-get-a-kiss game and then y’all will just end up making out instead of working on memorizing lines sooooo……yeah

[qilingxiong]

九龍城寨之圍城 | Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In (2024)

I've rewatched this movie more than once, since seeing it in theatres back in August, and each time was just as good as the first if not better. Given that, I now have many thoughts so I'm subjecting y'all to listening to why you should watch it:

Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In (九龍城寨之圍城 or gau2 lung4 sing4 zaai6 zi1 wai4 sing4) is a martial arts action/crime film directed by Soi Cheang. It is an adaptation of the manhua City of Darkness by Andy Seto, and its source novel of the same name by Yuyi. The film's cast has established Hong Kong names folded in with newer-generation actors, starring Raymond Lam, Louis Koo, Sammo Hung, Richie Jen, Terrance Lau, Philip Ng, German Cheung, and Tony Wu (Aaron Kwok gets a cameo role, too).

At a broad glance, the movie follows several major triads in 1980s Hong Kong and their power struggle to control the Kowloon Walled City (a densely populated urban enclave, which for decades evaded direct governance by either the British colonial or Chinese powers in the area). We're introduced to the KWC and the triads' major players through the eyes of Chan Lok-Kwan (Raymond Lam), a man fleeing Vietnam and attempting to make a life for himself in HK. He winds up seeking refuge in the KWC, and comes to call both the city and the people he meets in it a home worth defending.

The narrative itself is not the most complex, but if you enjoy '80s Hong Kong films in these genres, it's solid fare and a harkening back to that decade. All the major themes like brotherhood (and brotherhood vs blood), vengeance, and struggle with conflicting loyalties are there, alongside an internal search for identity and belonging within Hong Kong. But the highlight in it is that the plot connects feast after feast of utterly stunning fight choreography, made all the more impressive by the fact that, according to Louis Koo, quite a few major cast members had never filmed this kind of action before. All their training was done just for TotW, and oh, does it pay off. I can't make good gifs, so you'll have to watch and see for yourself. It's not action for action's sake, either; listening to the head stunt choreographer discuss how different characters' fighting styles were crafted shows off how fight scenes aren't breaks in the story, they tell the story, and deepen our understanding of the characters.

The setting of the Kowloon Walled City truly makes the action in TotW stand out. It's a unique space to stage all these major fights, as the KWC's buildings at the time were packed together close enough to resemble a singular block from the outside. Once inside, it's a stacked, dark maze of uneven paths, stairs, and rickety roofs, with electrical and television cabling snaking over/around/through everything. Fight scenes in these streets feel thrillingly claustrophobic, with lots of acrobatics and near-dodges as characters navigate these tight alleys of the KWC. Each impact as a character goes flying into a wall, or is launched down a flight of stairs or onto a roof, is wonderfully visceral to watch.

All credit and hopefully awards are due to the production and set design teams for their work, in crafting this environment for the story and its fights. The visual/spatial representation of the KWC is the film's other glorious highlight, alongside the choreography. Whole streets of the KWC were recreated for this, filled with every mundane, period-accurate detail from the lives of ordinary people who would have lived there. It's impossible to catch all the intricacies put into making the KWC come to life again onscreen, just from watching the film. Shots like the credits sequence offer close-ups of harder-to-see details, and videos like a tour of the KWC set by Terrance Lau, acting as his character Shin, show off things from the drinks in the fridge at the corner store to the scribbled writing on the walls by the public taps. This film was designed with a drive to faithfully represent what the Kowloon Walled City had been like, how it looked when it was lived in, and they achieved it to an incredible degree.

That dedication extends to more than just the sets, though. The emotional core of TotW revolves around the KWC's inhabitants, and how they were the ones who made the city what it was, a home for about 35,000 people at a time. The film doesn't treat the KWC as just an eye-catching location to stage some fights; its characters might be fictional and overloaded with jianghu powers, but it goes out of its way to show how ordinary people might have lived, worked, and socialized within the historic city. It shows off why, despite its (not unwarranted) dark reputation, so many chose to live in a place that was once the densest urban center on the planet.

And this brings us to the acting, because the cast all do a very good job bringing their characters to life as the heart of the KWC. Louis Koo is fucking fantastic and arguably the scene stealer of the film as Cyclone, the triad leader in current charge of the KWC. He's grumpy, magnetic, and dangerous when he must be, but he also cares so very, very deeply about the inhabitants within his jurisdiction. Terrance Lau's Shin acts as his charismatic and capable right hand man, as well as protégé to Cyclone, befriending Chan Lok-Kwan and helping him become accustomed to life in the KWC. These two, along with the snarky Twelfth Master (Tony Wu) and the masked + imposing AV (German Cheung) become a quartet with great chemistry and friendship, the next generation to watch over and protect the Kowloon Walled City. Outside the KWC cast, antagonist figures like Sammo Hung, Philip Ng, and Richie Jen's characters are intimidating and compelling as threats to the city, and the lives people have etched out within its walls.

All of these things put together, and Twilight of the Warriors is a deeply fun, enjoyable, and rewatchable film (so good, in fact, that Hong Kong has submitted it as its nomination for the 2025 Oscars). The movie doesn't lose its emotional throughline in the promise of an action-packed ride it fully delivers on, and it uses its narrative, setting, and choreography to pay tribute to an earlier era of Hong Kong, as well as highlight + humanize a piece of the region's history that might not be quite as well known to some.

(The Kowloon Walled City was demolished and its inhabitants relocated in 1993. The area where it once stood is now a park, with some historic buildings preserved. If you're curious about people in the KWC before demolition, City Of Darkness: Life In Kowloon Walled City (1993) by Greg Girard and Ian Lambot is a collection of photographs and first-hand recountings from residents, recording their lives and stories. I'm in the midst of reading it right now.)

If anything I've said has piqued your interest whatsoever, I say to give Twilight of the Warriors a try, if you have a free two hours to spare. Something in it will be worth it for you. And if I've failed to convince you with any of this, or you need one more push, here's the trailer for the film:

And if I did manage to actually get anyone to seek out this movie, please tell me! I'd love to know your thoughts.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

Full HC: MC becomes an author and starts writing memoirs detailing their adventures with their beloved; how do the M6 react? How do they try to help?

The Arcana HCs: When MC writes their love story

Julian

Waaay too invested. Come on. You're writing memoirs about the dramatic, life-changing, whirlwind saving-the-world story that's been your romance? Be still his theatre kid heart

Will ask regularly if you've written anything more and set time aside to read whatever you share with him. Often does so out loud, to whichever patient/clinic assistant/bar patron is nearby

Cannot handle how fondly you describe him

People regularly ask to hear him read the latest installment, just for the sight of the infamous Dr Devorak blushing and stumbling over his words, voice cracking at your loving view of him

This does not stop him from suggesting changes. Specifically, suggesting embellishments. What do you mean the Devil wasn't twenty feet tall? Surely you're misremembering how big he was

Doesn't pressure you to rush your work at all, but is living in perpetual (self-inflicted) purgatory waiting for the story to be finished and to see the book published

Has a spot preemptively saved for it on his library shelf

Coincidentally, half the city plans to preorder it as well

Asra

Their curiosity is killing them, but they value your privacy and creative freedom way too much to ask to see what you're writing

The most he does is offer encouragement, compliments, and help

What you don't see is the sheer level of loving gratitude that they feel about what you're doing. They've accepted your previous memory loss, and have been happy to hold your memories for you

But the fact that you treasure the memories you share with him now so much that you're putting in the hours and effort it takes to preserve them for the future ...

It's enough to overwhelm them, sometimes, which can make them seem distant about the project (though you know them well enough at this point to see that this means they're emotional)

Very good at giving you the emotional support you need for a project like this, especially when you have to relive some of the harder parts of your shared history

Always happy to help you remember the details of how something went. He started remembering things for both of you after you came back, and it makes for some tender conversations

Nadia

Honored. That's mostly what she feels - deeply honored

And a little unsure of how best to support you while you go about your endeavor. Her instinct is to get as involved with it as possible, making sure you have all the resources for success you could need

But she's also aware that this is a very personal thing for you to do, and that the point of it is to write things down from your point of view. This is your project, so she should probably stay out of it ...

Well, offering you her help and "casually" bringing by new supplies every couple days shouldn't hurt

If you didn't have it already, you've got a writing room, strong boundaries around your creative time, only the best ink and parchment, and access to dictionaries and thesauruses galore

Will light up and drop everything if you give her some of what you've written to read over. She's fascinated by your perception of the world (and her) and enjoys learning more about it

She's also extremely knowledgeable about spelling, grammar, and sentence structure, so unless you clarify that you're not asking for feedback you'll get plenty of suggested corrections

Muriel

He's a little ... embarrassed

Don't get him wrong. He loves that you're doing what you're doing, and deep down he'd fight the world to let you keep doing it

But half the time he catches a glimpse of the page you're writing he can see his own name spelled out multiple times in there and it makes him feel much more perceived than he is used to

He feels like what you're doing is almost holy, though

So much of his life was defined by losing his history, his connections, his chance to share memories with a family

And now here you are, putting hours upon hours into documenting the history and family you've built together and found in each other, until your story no longer depends on being alive to tell it

Which is why he'll dote on you while you work, bringing you water and snacks, ink refills and spare pages, making sure your workspace is well-lit and the temperature is comfortable

He wants to honor what you're doing

He's also very interested in reading it, but he's not going to ask. He'll just linger nearby in case you have a question or something ...

Portia

Her first thought is to offer to co-author it

Think about it - you two could write alternating chapters, with the story line switching between your two perspectives!

She's completely understanding if you say no, but she might try to use that to get you to agree to letting her read it as you write it. This is the coolest romance adventure story ever!

Amazing for helping you with the pre-writing creative process. Need someone to bounce ideas off of? Need help structuring your outline or blocking out how much space to give different things?

She's got you. She's quick to notice what boosts your creative flow and will help you get into that groove, whether it's chatting about what you're going to write next or giving you tea and snacks

Her only criticism is that you don't give yourself enough credit in your writing. Otherwise, she loves every word

And by love, that means obsesses. She devours every page you show her and could spend hours telling you why she loves it

It's also a massive boost to her to be reminded that you see her as a main character in your story. It makes her happy cry regularly

Lucio

On the outside, he's playing it cool

Of course you're writing about the adventures you've had together! You two are the best of the best and you've done some seriously awesome things, writing a killer novel about it makes total sense

On the inside, he's scared

He's not an introspective guy. He spends most of his time in the moment, but on the occasions that he has to stop and contemplate himself, he gets insecure a lot faster than he'd like to

And now you - the person who knows him even better than he does - are writing about him. About who he is to you. About what he means to you. About ... who he used to be to you

That's terrifying

He puts off reading anything you offer to show him, and distracts himself from thinking about it when you sit down to write. He's curious to see what you have to say and anxious at the same time

What if you think he hasn't changed that much? What if writing down what he used to be like makes you admire him less?

When he does read it, he almost cries at how loving it is

[mistymem0ryy]

Yandere Arlecchino x Ballerina Reader

‘Oh who is She’

Summary: As a ballerina in Fontaine’s most prestigious dancing Academy you have lived your life with the intent to serve the arts and being able to provide to your family a next meal. Life in the Opera house flows with the same old mundanity until the growing number of Fatui agents within the country alongside the death of one of your coworkers begins to solidify the already running distaste for the Shneznayan ‘diplomatic’ lackeys. Your opinion about them is as unsavory as the next guy, that is until you meet one of the grand patrons of the Theatre, Arlechinno, whose interest in you and your talent grows concerningly more fierce with every passing performance.

Author’s Notes >>> at the end of the post! please check it out for some clarifications!

Warnings: discussions of pr0stituti0n and the unsavory sides of performance arts, mentions of murder and your common yandere sketchiness

No beta we die like any teenage girl with Slavic ballet teachers

I. A misty memory 

The memory of the Genesis of your own downfall has never faded completely from your straying recollections. It possesses a freshness that stings and contorts. It is partially hidden by a cape of fog, a mist deep enough to make you look twice and yet, within its frailty, to provide you with a rough silhouette of that which now inhabits the realms of the unconscious.

Sometimes you wonder if its repression won’t be for the better. You have, for the first time in your life, genuinely reached the understanding that ignorance is truly bliss.

If you had known that a single glance could have harbored the power to throw you into the scorching depths of hell, you would have blinded yourself by the age of 9.

If you had known that the only way out of such an inferno would be through the merciless mountain of purgatory, you would have preferred for your limbs to be frozen whole alongside that six-eyed beast. Perhaps his flowing tears would have purged you of whatever sin you unknowingly committed in order to be cursed with such a fate.

She says she serves a God in her doings. You fear she has mistaken the voice of her unsightly desires for that of divinity.

But perhaps that must be the forbidden truth stuck within our suffocating throats—that our most grotesque and hideous desires are but a reflection of the Gods.

You were wearing black that day, a colour not unknown to your wardrobe, yet it was worn with a completely different intent, if memory serves you right. A girl around your age, red-haired with a blemish under her right eye. You had previously exchanged some vague pleasantries when alone behind the velvet curtains that could rival the tint of her reddening cheeks; she had once gifted you an arrangement of lavenders as a congratulation to your promotion into one of the highest grades within L’Academie and even went as far as to write one of your favourite poems upon the accompanying card attached to their freshly cut stems.

She had a name; you are sure of it, but for some reason you cannot bring yourself to recollect it now, the girl’s body had been found bloody and mud covered in a soiled ditch on Fontaine’s southern border exactly three days before you formally met Her.

She had been charming; even a blind fool would have been hypnotized by Her  enticing aura. And you had been exactly that—an ignorant and mindless fool.

It wasn’t the first time she had visited the theater; you try your best to blur the faces of the audience into an unrecognizable blob of flesh during performances, but hers was too marking to dismiss. Her gaze scrutinized each minute move of your flowing limbs, there was a certain hunger behind her eyes that made tremors consume the entirety of your body every time you set foot upon that regal stage.

It was as if you were 8 again and praying that the examiners for the exact prestigious company you now work for took pity upon yourself and did not slander your hard work with a crude rejection.

For the first few performances you presumed her attention was, in the least, wandering through your dancing colleagues too, the recurring meetings between your eyes and hers perhaps purely coincidental. That was until your first solo was presented.

You have been witness to hunger and yearning countless times, having even seen them invading and ravaging the souls of those near and afar from you, the prologue of such fervorous and ardent emotions, always far away from being sweet and clean. Like all things should strive to be.

To mistake whatever plundered her mind for ‘hunger’ or ‘yearning’ would be a bland fool’s mistake, you had unwisely mistaken a building famine for a theater’s infatuation, and that was the first of the many errors you would commit along the line.

Deep within yourself, you knew that at some point between this game of cat and mouse the Opera house ceased from being a place for the upper echelons of society to converse and demonstrate their riches while underpaid artists feebly hoped for recognition of their labors, and it began to belong solely to the two of you. 

The stage had become your own dissection table, and you did not know if it was pleasure or terror you derived from her dissecting gaze.

Perhaps your first solo had been the nail upon the coffin. You had refused to look towards her for the entirety of the arduous choreography, depicting the history of Chloé as she is taken unwillingly by pirates, eventually saved before the ravaging, thanking Pan for his graciousness, and once again reuniting with her lover.

 Your eyes were directed towards hers only once the music ceased with a harmonious  and thundering ending. You watched as, from within the silent public, her gloved hands came together and the first clap clamored through the walls, you felt a weird sense of pride and fear as she got up from her seat inside the private box, all while applauding your performance with an elegant smirk adorning her features, the rest of the audience followed suit, collectively getting up from their seats and filling the Opera house with the sound of resounding applause. 

You always felt this clamoring sting upon your scapulae every time your gazes happened to cross; their meeting as quick as their departure, or so you liked to believe.

Even after the closing of the curtains, when the only sound that met your ears was that of ragged breaths and squeaking wood, when the only smell that filled your senses was that of a mixture of human flesh and whatever toxic atrocity held your hair in place, even then you could still feel remnants of her stare covering your body, as if becoming a second layer of skin with every passing performance.

You knew she was Fatui from the beginning; after all, the servants of the so-called Tsaritsa didn’t exactly hide their duties or loyalties, be it by manner of speech or that of dressing. They had good money, though. You knew it. The rest of the dancers knew it. The directors and associates knew it. And sometimes you had to turn a deaf ear to hushed whispers about people mysteriously disappearing in the night without a single trace to be found. Sometimes you had to kill your morals if you wanted your next meal to be within an evening and not within 3 days.

The jeweled and fur-adorned audience could be drowning themselves in luxury and splendour, but the little dolls they so merrily applauded at the end of two continuous hours of Tchaikovsky couldn’t be more far away from such a blissful existence. It had been common for some spectators from the upper balconies to take an interest in certain ballerinas; with time, this commonality became a tradition and eventually a business in its own right. But to discuss it in such a manner would have been blasphemous within the highly adorned walls of the prestigious Theatre, some called it pr0stituti0n, the directors called it keeping their loyal patrons satisfied.

After yet another performance based on local folklore that the rich over-intellectualise in order to differentiate themselves from the common folk, you and your companions sluggishly returned to the poorly lit room where your belongings and whatever remnants of your honour were housed. You were all substituting the attire of Tyrian purple silk with formal dress in the colour of grief. The entire theater was in mourning, or at least that was the image the directors wished to convey.

The death of your fellow ballerina had caused quite the stir within Fontaine’s journals; the cause of the death of this poor girl was being discussed by intellectuals in fancy cafés and by drunks in dirty taverns, and yet you knew there was no real mourning behind it all. Her corpse was their quirky theme for the weekend chatter; a life had been lost, and her memory too would vanish from public memory within a week or two. The headline writers pointing to a possible murder would die out with time and enough pocket money on the directors’ part. Perhaps this was your first direct contact with the fragility and lingering nature of the human experience—to be forgotten, you presumed, was but a logical step in the grander scheme of things.

Some hours before it all went astray, you and other members of the Theatre’s staff had decided to visit a nearby cathedral before beginning the preparations for the performance destined to take place that same day. You had cleansed yourself before entering, scraped your knees upon the humidity of the wooden floor, and even lit your votive candle in front of the mosaic depicting the Hydro Archon.

You selfishly wanted to pray for the health of your family, perhaps even for a better salary, and yet you found yourself solely asking why—what greater good could the death of such a simple and honest girl have brought into this world? Was there a greater meaning behind her early departure? Did she at least have the grace of a painless death? Wherever she is now, is she happy?

The silence you received from the other side was deafening, like slaughter.

You could feel the intensity of an unknown gaze upon the left side of your face. You refused to even cower in its direction, to whomever that glance belonged to, it was most probably of no God that could fulfill your wishes.

You still remember how your knees ached as you gathered yourself from a praying position. How you had bid a good day to the priest upon your hurried leave. 

How you had petted the church’s cat that sluggishly showed you his black furred belly as you passed by his way. 

How you had offered whatever lingering candy you still gathered inside the pockets of your ageing trench coat to some street kids that always went to you for their sweet tooth (the little rascals).

The commute towards the curving golden gates that encircled the greenery belonging to the theater was too mundane to serve as a presage. The Archons had sent you no omens, no foreboding whatsoever. The birds chirped away the same conjunction of clashing tunes, the melody of human society waking up from its slumber and beginning its unceasing movement was the same you had experienced on a loop for years. 

Would you have entered the theatre’s doors if you had known what awaited you at the end of the day? Would you have been able to escape your future if only you had thought twice after the performance, after lingering gazes filled with want and something more?

Perhaps yes, perhaps no. There really is no use in pondering such things now, but you cannot deny that they do serve as interesting thought experiments to pass the time with.

No matter how many times you attempt to recollect the happenings of that day, they always re-emerge from whatever mental corner you’ve confined them in different forms, different silhouettes, different essences. Your memory has slowly lost the trust you had once graced it with, but no matter how many times you repeat that forsaken day in your diminishing mind, there is one thing that always resists change, one single constant within the writing of your doom.

The altar had smelled of chrysanthemums and lavender.

Author’s note: This will be a series of approximately 5 parts, some from Arlechino’s perspective and others structured as reminiscences such as the one just presented. Since Fontaine is still not out, the characterization of Arlecchino could with the coming of new information and lore become erroneous so I feel as if it is my duty to inform you that I am molding her personality based off of the new trailer and imbuing her with certain characteristics of fictional characters I personally think would be similar to her!

[aristotto]

(I shall post everything I have not posted here before but deleted from Twitter)

First of hello, hi TUMBLR!!! This is my MD OC. Her name is Ari. Ahhhh a lot of info in the picture too.

(Her eyes are periwinkle by the way (more blue than purple) it may look strange on some screens. On my phone they look pink lol.)

(Before you ask-- Yes I speak french— Spanish and English too, currently learning mandarin. I got the languages autism i guess. —I went to high school in Rhône-Alpes. Studied theatre. I keep everything in english though, I know it's a more common and comfortable language)

Now... Lore.

Ari and her family (mom, dad, little brother) used to live in a small colony about 7-8 hours by foot from the next closest colony, where Uzi and the other members of the cast live in Copper-9. Her father (who I still have to name, but so far in the story he has only been called "Papa" by his daughter, and "Ash" by someone who doesn't even know him) definitely has something wrong with him, with his programming. He is a pathological liar and is quite paranoid, thinking anything can be held against him. This is why after a commercial dispute with a colleague, he decided to leave everything behind and take his whole family with him to another colony.

Oh yeah, here, have some music in the meantime (a friend told me it reminded her of Ari, so I'll leave it here):

I quote one of my writings:

"The family was ambushed as they moved from their previous colony to this one. It was quite the risky move, if I do say so myself. I think Ash is his name? The father. Both his wife and youngest child were killed.

As for his firstborn...

She's damaged.

She played dead. Her voice box was mangled, and even though it was repaired... It seems she doesn't want to speak anymore. Her program must have gotten corrupted. After all she was pretty beaten up, she couldn't even walk by herself that day.

She's a weird one, but she has proven herself to be very useful. Good at sewing apparently, and she's done some mechanical fixes here and there.

Good for her"

Her father is a clockmaker, her mother was a dressmaker. She learnt from both, but she is not an expert in either.

After the incident her father insisted in taking care of her by himself. He knew better, apparently. However... It did seem every fix was temporary, as her knees would stop working again in a matter of hours. Something wasn't right.

Her father is obsessed with control and being called a hero, being called a fighter and a loving father. He wants Ari to depend solely on him, this is why, unbeknownst to his daughter, he has been inflicting her these wounds. Salt water accelerates oxidation, and hidden in a can of antioxidant, the child wouldn't know.

This is when she comes back to school. She doesn't speak to anyone, but other kids seem curious about "the girl with wheels".

One kid in specific was kind enough to say hello one day.

(I am really bad at drawing, but you get the idea).

Doll gave her the bell she uses to communicate.

"You're not broken, you're not incomplete".

These are words Ari would never forget.

They used to be friends. Not close, just occasionally spending time together. As they became older they also grew apart. Doll joined the cheerleader team, made new friends, became more social. And Ari could walk by herself and didn't really need help pushing her wheelchair anymore. They both became their own people.

Ari never stopped thinking about her friend. She had a crush on her but she kept denying her own feelings. How could she? She must've only been confused.

Besides, she would have sworn Doll forgot about her.

She didn't though.

After Doll's parents passed, Ari got her wake up call to start working on mechanics. Despite the pain on her knees, she started sneaking out every now and then to pick up drone scrap parts. She dressed on her father's coat and covered her face, but the rumors started anyways. A limping figure carrying a heavy bag through the halls at night... "The Collector". Beware or it might take your limbs too!

Ari was determined to help reassemble worker drones in hopes of one day helping Doll with her parents, too. What she didn't know was how to recover the cores, so she never really succeeded in bringing anyone back.

She was one day approached by Doll, which surprised her, because she wanted help fixing her prom dress. This day while measuring her she finally realized she felt something more than friendship towards her, but she ever spoke about it.

She never did until it was too late.

Picture this after the events of episode 5, before Doll left the colony. (Forgive my badly done comic layouts)

She broke silence but... also broke her voice box again because well, she screamed, and she hadn't said a word in years.

Last resource... Throwing the bell at her.

Of course that love was not reciprocated.

"Save your tears. We'll talk when I come back, this is not a battle I can run from."

She did not come back.

Ever since the end of the events of the show, Ari has been trying to bring back Doll. A new body, yes, but she wants her to be alright again even if her love is not reciprocated. She doesn't care about that. She just thinks she didn't deserve to die.

I'll end part 1 here.

There's a lot more to go, and very little space for images.

Thank you

[the-hottest-band-tournament]

Round Six of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament

Mötley Crüe 

Defeated opponents: Cybotron, The Beach Boys, XTC, The Clash, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Formed in: 1981

Genres: hard rock, metal rock, Glam metal, heavy metal

Lineup: Vince Neil- vocals 

Mick Mars- guitar

Nikki Sixx- bass

Tommy Lee- drums 

Albums from the 80s: 

Too Fast for Love (1981)

Shout at the Devil (1983)

Theatre of Pain (1985)

Girls, Girls, Girls (1987)

Dr. Feelgood (1989)

Propaganda: the all black, the messy hair, the sloppy makeup, the good makeup, the skimpy clothes, the high heels, the fingerless gloves, I could fix him (I absolutely could not), MORE HAIR. I love these trashy goth bitches

Guns N’Roses 

Defeated opponents: ZZ Top, Pantera, A-Ha, The Go Go’s, Fleetwood Mac

Formed in: 1985

Genres: Hard rock 

Lineup: Axl Rose- vocals 

Slash- lead guitar

Izzy Stradlin- rhythmic guitar

Duff McKagan- bass

Steven Adler- drums 

Albums from the 80s: 

Appetite for destruction (1987)

G N’ R Lies (1988)

Propaganda: “The sluttiest a man can do is be in the Guns’N Roses’s original lineup” 

“Watch this video and tell me slash doesn't have pretty boy babygirl swag”

“Whoo! Time for more Guns N’ Roses propaganda (and by that I mean an excuse to gush about Steven Adler, one of my favorite drummers/people ever)

First off, look at him. This is, and so cannot stress this enough, one of the cutest people I’ve ever seen. Ever. Look at him! (And also, he’s a drummer so he’s fun-size - he is 5’7 at most and at least some of you reading could pick him up)

And he’s one of the greatest and most fun drummers to ever live. I’ve heard maybe 3 other drummers who are as fun to listen to and who have as good of a feel for matching the actual emotion of a song (harder to explain with drumming, but even though they’re both love songs, wouldn’t do the same solos for Patience and Sweet Child o Mine - it’s the same deal here). The demo for Back Off Bitch runs laps around the full version and half of that is because of him.

Izzy Stradlin himself has said that he gave early Guns N’ Roses their feel and that things got weird and “nothing worked” without him (I swear to god that’s a direct quote). You know how hard it is to get a guitarist or singer to recognize and actually admit that? And he’s never made a bad song or sounded boring, and that’s really rare for 80s-era hard rock drummers. Even Tommy Lee’s had his weird songs and I can’t say the same here.

And some bonus propaganda before I write another five paragraphs”

Visual propaganda for Mötley Crüe:

Visual propaganda for Guns N’Roses: