#and then j.c. is just. there

[frozenbluecookies]

Wow, okay. Even if I hadn't known about Avatrice from tumblr, Ava's vibes with the women are impeccable. Four episodes in and her thing with J.C. is.... fine, i guess. But I swear she has more chemistry with Chanel, and they've had, what, two scenes together at this point?

[telling-tragedy]

I love them dearly and they hurt my feelings

(bonus edit under the cut)

[zondearts]

Glaspalast

[sunnys-aesthetic]

(Collab art!) Dragged @jack-o-phantom into the art challenge and I absolutely love how we both did in this!!!!! We each painted our respective character!

Close-ups below! v

reference below!

[henry-or-something]

god, imagine if jean claude just starts dropping lore here and there to the uprooted gang about cuttlefish sweepstakes and never explains it

For example:

Booker: Where can we go next? Everyone is trying to kill us!

Jean Claude: I can see if my 'friend' The Walrus is still alive. If I survived the death game, he probably did too! I'll write him a letter

Bitsy: What kind of animal is The Walrus? Is he an otter?

Jean Claude: he was, or is, a beaver! If I'm not mistaken, he lives up in Grizzlepaw.

Grumley: how would you know that? You don't know if he's even alive...

Peggy: *gasp* Is 'The Walrus' a fake name? Is he evil? I heard that walruses live in the ocean and eat woodland critters.

Booker: I feel like we're brushing over the whole death game thing, but I really don't want to get into it.

Or something like that

[wanderingmind867]

Okay. My first impressions of The Shadow Crosser. Here we go:

• First off, the cover art is beautiful. Bravo, Irvin Rodriguez. You've produced for a beautiful purple and turquoise colour scheme that only makes me think of the northern lights or southern lights or something. One of the auroras. It's beautiful. Your best work yet.

• Now…the plot summary on the front jacket gives me some concern. The mayan gods all vanished, zane betrayed, the godborns using a mayan calendar to travel back in time…gods, i'm getting reminded of The Secrets of the Immortal, Nicholas Flamel. If this book follows that book's finale…oh, brother. We might be in for a rough time. I don't need time traveling shenanigans ending with Zane stuck in the past or something. If you go that route, these books will really disappoint me (the same way those Flamel books did). So please…please tell me that doesn't happen.

• Finally, we have Itzamna giving the book's preface and warning that Zane couldn't write it. He says I may not like it, depending what narrative type I prefer. Then he really seems to imply the mayan gods are gone forever. So…i'm really getting concerned here. Is this book going to be a confusing time travel story? Is that really where we're going? Are we going to meet the ancestors of our protagonists? I…ugh. This can't be worse than the crap ending those flamel books had (where the lead characters parents were aliens and then the kids became secretive allies to their future selves in a surrealist plot twist). …can it?

I'm concerned. I'll read onwards for today, but I think i'm gonna need to either look up the ending or force someone on here to allay all of my fears. Because I don't want this book series to end disappointingly. I enjoyed the first two so much. Please…please don't let me down now. sigh…

[gillanfryingpan]

this one’s hard to explain for the normies

it’s me and my girlfie (fictive) based on the painting by J. C. Leyendecker (shown under the cut)

and version without glasses teehee

[sarahfarinaillustration]

Jayvik Illustrator/Printing Press AU (1800-1900’sish?):

Jayce Talis comes from a long line of hardworking printing press manufacturers and operator’s, who currently works as the favored press operator for the city's foremost newspaper enterprise known as The Kiramman Publishing House. An old and well respected company, it gains most of its notoriety from popular albeit rather scathing gossip panels.

Between struggling to keep his family’s manufacturing company afloat and the grueling responsibility of operating the Kiramman presses, Jayce feels as if he’s just another cog in the machine painfully close to snapping beneath the pressure. Only one thing seems to be keeping him from drowning beneath the monotony: his dream of opening his own printing press where he’d be free to publish more scholarly and radical articles.

One evening, feeling wiry from the bite of repetition  and spurred with a sudden inspiration, Jayce take’s a daring risk and swaps one of the approved articles for print with one of his own pieces. The following morning is catastrophic. Not only is the piece ripped apart and mocked by the public for its scandalizing departure from societal conventions, Jayce is promptly fired for his insubordination and damage to the company’s reputation.

Left gutted and pondering the weight of his own insignificance, Jayce collides with a rather curious young illustrator who praises his revolutionary article and much to his shock promptly offers to support him in his endeavor to open a new publishing company. The brilliant albeit rather withdrawn illustrator introduces himself as V. K. Novak, a student of the infamous editorial illustrator Cecil Heimerdinger.

Together the two new business partners work to open a new printing press, much to the chagrin of the Kiramman House who seem’s hell bent on orchestrating their failure at every turn.

[dr-mp3]

I'm not sure if J.C. Leyendecker's art is considered to be within the realm of the 1950's but I still think it'd be cool anyways if someone drew Coyle in his style I dunno or even Gooseberry

[lemonsilly]

john crocker one chance please please (raising my hand pick me pick me i want to know more about him!!!!!)

YES YES YES HI HI HI HERES THE JOHN CROCKER DUMP!!! this is gonna be a long one bc im literally explaining his entire character, pls mind the autism

Jonathan "John" Crocker (lemonsilly ver)'s lore kind of follows the typical Alpha John structure with two critical exceptions!!

He stayed with the Crockercorp corporation

He's a bit younger here lol (I'd say 50s or maybe late 40s at the youngest, rather than the 86 y/o ver of Crocker we see in homestuck!)

To elaborate on point 1, I mean he kind of stayed tied to his mother and never really broke out of this familial tie. He's still an actor and comedian, however, he's also working under CrockerCorp (and thus, HIC). I've always imagined him being used for propaganda (and I get that HiC's rule was kinda more lowkey in HS proper but its not in my version!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! bc im insane abt the alpha guardians) and kind of seen as Hollywood's Darling.

His main reason for still sticking with Evil Troll Mom is a mix of obligation and a weird attachment to her. You know the experiment with monkeys with cloth mother and wire mother? She's John's wire mother.

Having been raised alone after Jade's escape, he grows to resent his sister (both from a combo of his own personal feelings and HIC's influence) and kind of clings to his mom like a baby koala. TLDR; big mama's boy in his late 40s-50s because trauma

Being a big time comedian and actor, John is probably the most charismatic man in Condywood (as I like to call it), next to David "Dave" Strider (more on that relationship later). He's very charming and quite silly too! In AUs where he's raising Jane (or any of the egbert/crockers for that matter, if you wanna get silly with it and include beta john), he's actually very good with her. Despite his erm .. everything! he is a doting father (which I guess is kind of OOC in terms of breath players and their massive fears of commitment, but we're already incredibly OOC for what any variation of John stands for so I kinda dont care)

His charisma is lethal, though. He doesn't use it for ill will very often! Because above all else, he's a pretty nice guy (usually). This unfortunately makes him HIC's biggest weapon in her arsenal.

This is where Dave Strider -- biggest anti-HIC fighter beside his sister, Rose Lalonde -- comes in.

Now, Dave and Rose's works are subtle. They're not too overt. This pushes them into stardom. Dave's movies are pretty pretentious, and even more pretentious if you actually pick up on the subliminal messaging. Bottom line is, HIC sends John to try to scrape as much information off of them (and possibly deal with them) as possible.

But the thing is, John kind of gets a weird fascination with Dave. Dave is kind of easy in terms of John's mission, as he's much more ... pliable ? (at least in my au JKGHHAGJK). Dave is a coked out, eccentric director who dances on the thin line of self-hatred and egocentricism. Dave is smart, don't get me wrong, and this is kind of what attracts John to Dave.

John kind of gets a desperate need to constantly one up this guy. It is always power and control to him. Once he somehow slithers into Dave's life, he holds what Dave wants just enough out of reach. Even outside of Condywood AU, I really like to portray them like this lololol. And being much more powerful than Dave, it is so easy to get one over him, even in the most subtle of ways. This need also stems from Dave also being able to get one over him (because Dave is smart). And Dave (rags to riches, new director) is a little guy -- in terms of society -- compared to John (born into wealth, famed comedian and actor). It's kind of a threat to John's ego, so he's kind of obsessed with catching Dave before he does anything.

Ok it's like 1 am and I've had a bit to drink and I need to wake up for work tomorrow SO I WILL END IT HERE but ohhhh i lvoe you john crocker. imagine that heart locket gif animation but with him

i imagine his voice to sound like Ian Bruce (The Correspondents) or Shayfer Jaymes... if this means anything ... i listen to Puppet Loosely Strung by The Correspondents and im like OMFG ITS HIM!!! (abt his feelings toward dave, bc he also kind of has this jealousy of how free dave is compared to him LOL)

[awesamforehead]

Will never know true peace as a Dream stan, every irrelevant bitch needs that nice, juicy twitter clout for 5 minutes cause they dont know how to build an audience not based in hate. Personally I would feel like shit if a good portion of my following isnt following for me, but rather than one time I "roasted" the internets punching bag but what would I know 🤷‍♂️

[zondearts]

some Felis and Agnes (again again)

[wallflowerglitter]

Some old rick rack I had. Thought this was fun.

[justforbooks]

The NB column in the Times Literary Supplement, signed at the foot by J.C., occupied the back page of the paper for thirteen years. For a decade before that, it was in the middle pages. That's roughly 60,000 words a year for twenty-three years. The purpose of the initials was not to disguise the author, but to offer complete freedom to the persona.

J.C. was irreverent and whimsical. The column punctured pomposity, hypocrisy and cant in the literary world - as one correspondent put it: 'skewering contemporary absurdities, whether those resulting from identity politics or from academic jargon'.

Readers came to expect reports from the Basement Labyrinth, where all executive decisions are made, and where annual literary prizes were judged and administered. These included the Most Unoriginal Title Prize - for a new book bearing a title that had been used by several other authors (eg, The Kindness of Strangers); the Incomprehensibility Prize, for impenetrable academic writing; the Jean-Paul Sartre Prize for Prize Refusal, and the All Must Have Prizes Prize, for authors who have never won anything.

Readers of NB by J.C. will find an off-beat guide to our cultural times. The book begins in 2001 and proceeds to 2020. The substantial Introduction offers a history of the TLS itself from birth through the precarious stages of its adaptation and survival.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[wanderingmind867]

The Fire Keeper is really good. And I finally understand Ren's story. Her family are the last of the aztec magicians, and her mom was a mayan goddess who broke the rules to be with her father. So she's not technically the child of an aztec god, but she has aztec magic. ixtab said the Aztec Gods were all wiped out earlier in the book, but I don't believe that lady one bit.

Also, Zane met the Fire Keeper, who told him that there's a traitor somewhere in his midst. My money's on either Ixtab or Quinn (Brook's sister) being the traitor. But maybe the traitor is Ren's grandfather? There's a lot of possibilities. All I know is that i've read nearly 60 pages in 4-5 hours, I only have 100 pages left (give or take), and there's still three hours left in school. And I also just want to write about everything I read. Because I don't want to forget what i've read, and everything i've read is fascinating to me.

Zane met Itzamna, the god of the moon and of writing. He said he'd help zane if zane only agreed to keep writing about his adventures. Then he vowed to give zane's life a grand sense of drama, because nobody would want to read a boring story. He's reminding me of Aphrodite in the Titan's Curse, vowing to give Percy an "interesting" love life. Only replace love with adventure, and you have the basics of Itzamna's scene.

Then we had the fire keeper scenes, which culminated in zane losing his magical cane and being told he'd end up betrayed. So now i've recapped everything i read so far today (for the most part), and hopefully i've made it clear why i find this all so interesting to read about.

[2knightt]

— REAL SWEET (but i wish you were sober!)

…IN WHICH—reader tells the greasers the things they want to hear. if only they were sober. (Greasers: J.C, D.W, PB.C, SP.C, D.C.)

tags/warnings: gn!reader, reader is depicted either high or drunk, reader is toxic, greaser(s) miss reader/miss the familiarity of reader, angsty, story-focused, rather long.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ red flag!reader, oh how you will always mean so much to me! this was supposed to be posted in august LMFAO

dallas winston

he should’ve never picked up that call.

if he knew that it was you calling him from a payphone, so drunk that you didn’t even know your own name, he would’ve let that phone ring.

“dally? oh, dally. i-i’m scared, i dunno where i am. it’s dark an-and i miss you.”

you slurred your words accidentally, trying to act sober in hopes that it would incline him to come and pick you up more.

“y/n, i’m busy. take this shit up with someone else.”

“dally-“

“dallas.”

he corrected you with a stern tone. he wasn’t your dally and he hadn’t been for a long time. not since your break-up. you hadn’t been his baby and he hadn’t been your dally.

“dallas, please. come and get me. i-i’m by the old gas station. please,”

you pleaded some more, no longer hiding the desperation in your voice.

the screeching from the other line was deafening. dally—dallas, had hung up on you.

wearing thin pants at a night like this, during the cold oklahoma fall, was stupid of you. it only hit you when you sat on the curb, the cold concrete hitting you like a truck.

it sobered you up; only for a second. then, just as before, it was back to every wind that rustled past, every slight movement you made was met with a familiar dizziness.

dallas kept on muttering to himself as he drove to the gas station. “can’t believe i’m doing this, man,” “they’re drunk outta their mind,” “they’re using me. it’s clear as day.”

he saw you sitting on the curb, the gas station lights illuminating your figure in the dark night. you were tightly hugging your knees to your chest, covering your face from the wind.

dally chuckled as you jumped from him honking the horn of the curtis’ ford. he leaned out the open window, not hiding the sheer annoyance he felt.

“hurry up! i got shit to do!”

watching you stumble to the truck made him feel bad for you. it’s been awhile since you’ve been this drunk. and you smelled disgusting when you got into the truck.

he rolled all the windows down.

“god, dallas. you’re so good to me—i dunno why i left you. i miss you, y’know?”

you rambled, tears already forming as you spoke. never were an emotional drunk until now.

dallas’ knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder, holding back from snapping at you.

‘if you missed me so goddamn bad, why is this the first fucking phone call i’m getting?!’ he thought, wishing he had the guts to shout it at you.

“you were s-so nice to me. so handsome, so funny. i’m such a fucking idiot..”

“where you goin’?”

dallas cut off your sobbing with a question, trying to stop himself from either yelling or crying.

he didn’t know why he was like this when it came to you. he hated it, almost as much as he hated you.

“home.”

you mustered between hyperventilating, tears streaming down your cheeks. you didn’t know where home was anymore since you drank yourself silly.

you two drove in silence for the rest of the ride. it was only until he pulled into the driveway did you speak again,*

“i still love you.”

god, dally wished his baby was sober.

johnny cade

“y/n, i thought you quit smokin’ mary jane.”

“i dunno where you heard that from.”

you giggled, too high to realize the seriousness of the situation.

crossing paths with you after the break up you had was unfortunate. smoking by yourself in the lot where you two hung out before was even more unfortunate.

johnny getting caught trying to go to your guy’s spot was the most unfortunate. he smelled the weed on your clothes, he seen the stub of the joint on the ground, and he seen your eyes that were red and tired.

he wished he could’ve said no when you patted the spot beside you, telling him to sit down.

“isn’t it funny that-that we meet here? i mean, accidentally, of course. unless..?”

johnny hated that you were joking with him. he knew that it could never go back to the normal bickering you two had.

“i just wanted to clear my mind.”

“yeah, me too.”

you mumbled, finding yourself in a trance with how your hair felt between your finger tips. you missed this feeling.

“is that why you started smoking again?”

the dark haired boy asked, only now realizing that he was asking too many question, getting too comfortable with you again.

god, what the hell was wrong with him?

“no.”

“then why?”

johnny couldn’t help himself from asking.

“i missed you too much. my..my mind was jus’ racing n’ racing with you. i needed to smoke.”

you admitted, dragging out the sentence for longer than it had to be.

that’s how johnny knew it wasn’t you talking anymore. the weed took over your brain, it took over your senses, it took over your mouth—it took over you.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hear those words, though.

johnny just wished you were sober when you said it.

ponyboy curtis

“why’re you here, y/n?”

“why are you here, ponyboy?”

the alcohol on your breath reeked. the way you slurred your words made him cringe.

he hated you when you were drunk. pony hated it so much to the point where you stopped drinking all together.

you were clearly back into the habit now. he scoffed, wishing he hadn’t come out of the house party to sit outside. if he knew you were on the steps too, he’d have done a u-turn.

too late, though. you seen him and ponyboy couldn’t hold back a sarcastic comment.

“my friends are here.”

“you got friends?”

“yes.”

you chuckled at his answer. despite the alcohol in your system, you laugh reminded him of the good times; when you were sober.

“i thought you quit.”

ponyboy kicked the red solo cup beside you, watching it roll down the steps.

“nope.”

you replied, popping the ‘p’ in the word. he scoffed, walking to sit beside you. the steps creaked as he sat down.

your movements were slowed as you turned your head to face him, your chin in the palm of your hands as the other gripped a half-full cup tightly.

it was an awkward several minutes of you borderline admiring him while he looked up at the stars in the sky.

after awhile, he finally snapped and asked you in an agitated tone,

“why are you looking at me?”

“i miss you, y’know. i’m sorry.”

ponyboy paused, feeling like a little kid again. only for a second, however. then the irritation came back.

why can’t you say this sober? pony would’ve done anything to hear you say that sober.

sodapop curtis

“you’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep wandering off,”

he warned as he held your wrist tightly, pulling you away from the road. even when you were tipsy, you stumbled over your feet.

being blackout drunk, however, made it hard for you to even process that you had legs attached to your body. you walked like a rag doll.

“sorry..”

“i don’t want ‘sorry’s, y/n.”

“i’m sorry.”

sodapop doesn’t even know why he bothered. you wouldn’t take in anything he told you.

he was walking you home. you were so drunk at the party steve dragged him to, he had to make sure you were good.

even if it meant walking your ex home at midnight.

“you smell nice, soda.”

“thank you,”

he mumbled in response, keeping his head straight forward. if he looked back at you, he didn’t trust himself to not cry or engulf you in a hug.

sodapop hated the way you two ended things, but he hated the relationship more.

as you two neared your house, he seen your porch light on and audible sighed. at least someone was home to care for you in this state.

“i’m so, so sorry, soda. i’m such a fucking idiot-”

“no, you aren’t.”

“yes, i am. i lost you.”

tears brimmed in your eyes as you thought back to your mistakes, the vodka making your emotions 10x stronger. the alcohol made you say stuff you didn’t mean or believe.

and soda knew that.

an apology was all he wanted. but, he wished you were sober to tell him that.

darry curtis

“you should know better by now.”

“i’m a grown woman, darry.”

he knew that. he seen the joint between your fingers as you sat out on your steps. he was scolding you like he was your boyfriend again.

“that doesn’t mean your lungs won’t be effected.”

it felt nice to be taken care of again. you missed darry.

“i miss you, dare.”

“no, you don’t.”

he replied sternly. he was, also, a grown man. he knew damn well that it wasn’t your actual feelings.

darry was the first person to call you out on your bullshit; always.

“i’m sorry,”

“be better, y/n.”

darry had to walk off before he did something stupid. he had to before he started to console you, before he started to treat you like a girlfriend again.

hearing you apologize, hearing you say you miss him wasn’t what he needed.

but god, he wanted you to be sober when you said those words so bad.