#[ thank you for the ask!! ]

[sun-marie]

🦉for Sabina and Eamoc? c:

🦉 Draw your OC with their familiar ranger companion!

"Oh, Eamoc, we're really in it now."

OC Drawing Meme

[mollywog]

What are your thoughts on Possibility of Peeta in Canon feeling guilt over a perception that he forced Katniss into the Star crossed lovers?

Oooo -Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about this.

One of Peeta’s main survival tactics is his ability to read people and situations…. And he’s pretty good at it (which probably was helpful to him far before the arena with a volatile mother but that’s maybe more the stuff of HCs so moving on)

With that in mind:

One of the first things Peeta says to Katniss upon her discovering him in the arena is:

"Lean down a minute first," he says. "Need to tell you something." I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

Even in his fevered state, Peeta is aware that this is an act (at least on Katniss’s side)

Later - when he’s trying to convince Katniss not to go to the feast and she claims that she isn’t, he says:

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.

‘I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going.’ -> all moments he (accurately) clocked where Katniss wasn’t being 100% honest if not outright lying

The ‘I don’t know how you’ve survived this long’ part is particularly interesting to me but I digress.

So then fast forward to after the feast where Katniss risked her life to save him:

"No! Just don't, Katniss!" His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there's real anger in his voice. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

I'm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food, so I try to keep up. "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who ... who worries about ... what it would be like if ..."

I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread

"If what, Katniss?" he says softly.

I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine.

"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he's probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it.

"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me.

In this moment Katniss inwardly acknowledges that she has real feeling beyond the act and Peeta, again, reads those feelings correctly.

This is the turning point for him.

So, then imagine his surprise on the train tracks (and all the self doubt):

"It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted."

"Not all of it," I say, tightly holding on to my flowers.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.

(Just picture Peeta replaying the games in his head and trying to figure out where he missed the tell.)

We often joke about Peeta being oblivious to Katniss’s feelings for him in Catching Fire, but really: He’s been burned by ‘misinterpreting’ her before and he’s trying not to make the same ‘mistake’ again.

In a way

“You love me. Real or not real?

Is a remnant of that doubt.

Anyways - back you your original question:

There wasn't a single person in Panem expecting the Gamemakers to allow for two winners prior to the rule change... 73 years of one Victor: It's unprecedented.

The star-crossed lovers strategy, under normal game circumstances,

Benefits them both. The romance makes them both fan favorites to sponsors. But, at the end of the day, there can only be one Victor. So when one were to die, public sympathy would swing sponsors towards the broken hearted other.

Relied very little on Katniss; she didn't have to opportunity to state her feelings for Peeta to the audience after the interview and in the arena, up until the rule change, she barely saw him. Had he died before the (unprecedented) rule change, there wouldn’t be much for her to do but appear sad. The star-crossed lover but is eventually just a sound bite.

No one could have predicted that both Katniss and Peeta would be crowned victors and have to maintain the strategy indefinitely.

So yes, on top of believing he mistook Katniss’s feelings for him in the arena, he then discovered they’d have to maintain the pretense of lovers for the rest of their lives… I’m sure he felt all sorts of miserable ways about that.

[9haharharley1]

Bdsm prompt: experienced kinkster and first time actually doing anything kinkster. Bonus points if the dom is the newbie.

Take this messy thing away from me before I add more nonsense to it!

Featuring a Jack who has been part of a BDSM lifestyle in the past and Pitch who is very much curious.

---

"Is our sex life really so boring that we must submit to such base desires?" Pitch didn't so much as sneer as he said it, but he may as well have for how he turned his nose up at the riding crop laid out innocently on the bed.

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's not base," he said, barely holding back a groan of annoyance. He'd explained this a million times already. "And our sex life isn't boring. Far from it, and know it!" He crossed his arms, feeling a little self-conscious as Pitch held up the crop with one hand to better examine it. "It's just..." He couldn't look at the man, glancing at the closet door as he tried to avoid gold eyes that turned back to study him. "I just need something different every now and then, alright?"

"You want me to hit you," Pitch deadpanned. Jack held himself tighter.

"Yes." He chanced a look at the older man out of the corner of his eye. Pitch had an odd look on his face; one part repulsed, one part curious. He swung the crop down by his side, fast enough that Jack could hear the displacement of air on the other side of the room. It made his cheeks burn hot. "I'm not asking you to beat me, Pitch," he tried to explain once again. Pitch had expressed interest when Jack had first brought it up a week ago, but the tone of his lover's voice now was putting him off. "What I'm asking for is controlled. Methodical, almost. You like that kinda thing, right?"

"Yes, but I'm not interested in hurting you, Jack," Pitch stated firmly. He smacked the crop against the palm of his opposite hand as if to prove his point, but all it did was make Jack's pants feel awfully tight. He shifted in place.

"You're not supposed to put all your strength into it," he explained, rolling his eyes to hopefully mask his sudden arousal. He walked over, holding out his hand. Pitch handed over the crop. "It's a sensory thing." He tapped it gently against his lover's exposed chest. Pitch stood a little straighter, but otherwise, he didn't react save for the curiosity in his eyes. Jack ran the flat leather tip down the center of his chest, nudging his partially unbuttoned shirt out of the way to stroke it against a nipple. Pitch shuddered, pupils dilating a little, and Jack tapped the crop against it just to watch him squirm. "A few smacks is enough for me." He pulled the crop out of Pitch's shirt to run the leather down his stomach. Pitch stood very still, hands behind his back in parade rest. "Hard enough to sting and leave a mark." Jack ran pliable leather over the half-hard cock in Pitch's slacks. He couldn't help but smirk up at the man. "Just enough to know who's in charge."

Pitch's gaze was smoldering as he gazed down at Jack. "And who is in charge, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. He held the crop loose in one hand, looking away from his lover. "Don't know yet. But if you're really not interested, we don't have to do this. This is supposed to be something fun and new, but if you're just gonna be mean, then I'm not interested either." He flipped the crop in his hand, holding the braided handle out for his older lover. He stared hard up at Pitch from under his bangs. "I need you to be my Dom, not a dick."

Pitch slowly reached out to take the riding crop. Jack let him have it, crossing his arms back over his chest. Pitch's fingers flexed around the handle, and Jack had to look away. His face felt flush, and he really hoped Pitch had the good grace not to be a dick about all this later.

He jumped when thin leather smacked his arm. It wasn't enough to hurt, just enough to get his attention, the sound loud in the quiet room. Jack turned his head back to stare down at it, eyes wide. It then moved up, rustling the fabric of his shirt, until leather curled under his chin and urged him to lift his head. He did so as though commanded even though neither of them had spoken, and he was embarrassed by how red his face must be when he finally met Pitch's eyes. Pitch stared down at him, one arm still held behind his back, gaze almost impassive. Curiosity shone deep in gold eyes, studying Jack's reaction to the crop, and the younger man swallowed thickly.

"You seem to have forgotten who's is charge here," Pitch murmured, and Jack whimpered at the authoritative tone. He hated how quick Pitch caught on sometimes. Leather ran down his neck, but Pitch held his gaze. "Allow me to remind you." He tapped Jack's chest with the crop. "Strip for me. And get on the bed."

Jack couldn't get his clothes off fast enough.

He practically ripped his shirt off, throwing it across the room as he did. Pitch tutted, and Jack froze as he worked his pants down his legs.

"So eager," he murmured, and Jack shivered at the dark tone of his voice - the one that only came out when Pitch was particularly demanding in the bedroom, the tone that made Jack want to introduce him to this side of himself after all their time together. "Go slower for me, darling. Let me see you."

Jack swallowed nervously, but he obeyed, removing his pants at a slower pace. He put a playful little bounce to his movements, shaking his ass as he slid his underwear down, earning a soft groan of approval. When he stood back up, his cock stood at full attention, and he couldn't meet Pitch's eyes.

A firm tap of the crop met his thigh, and Jack jumped. He couldn't stop the moan that slipped past his lips.

"On the bed," Pitch reminded him, a warning in his tone. "Don't make me ask again."

Oh, that...

That was fucking perfect.

Jack was trembling as he stepped toward the bed, his face on fire as he knelt on the edge. He wanted to ask how Pitch wanted him, but he was too turned on and embarrassed to do so, so he simply climbed up on hands and knees, ass on display for his lover. It had been a long time since he had last been in such a position, and it was embarrassing to display himself so lewdly to Pitch of all people, but he trusted him; trusted him more than anyone he had ever met, so he swallowed down his shame and arched his back, leaning forward to rest his weight on his elbows. He wanted to share this side of himself with Pitch, and he was going to share every damn bit of it.

Pitch sucked in a sharp breath behind him, and Jack couldn't help the little grin that came to his lips at the noise. He breathed out a shaky breath and finally let himself sink into that blank space he had been craving for months now.

"Is this okay, Sir?" he asked quietly, peeking over his shoulder, and he was gratified by what he saw.

Pitch's mouth had fallen slack, brow hiked up. His eyes had glazed over some as he ran them over Jack's exposed body, the crop dangling uselessly from his fingers. His black slacks were tented with obvious arousal, and Jack bit back a laugh. He shook his ass, teasing his older lover.

"Sir?" he asked, a little louder. Pitch snapped his mouth shut.

"Oh, I was not ready for that..." he mumbled, still looking a little dazed. Jack snorted. He shook his ass again, earning a gentle smack from the crop. "Stop that."

Pitch was kind enough to wait for his laughter to die down. "Sorry, sorry!" He looked back again to see the older man just watching him, running his eyes over every inch of his body. He was equal parts admiring, dazed, and calculated, and Jack's blush returned. "Do you want to stop?"

Pitch's eyes darted up to meet his. "Do you?"

Jack slowly shook his head. He licked his lips. "Green."

He watched Pitch exhale shakily. "Safe words. Right." He swallowed but adjusted his grip on the crop. "Green." And Jack watched his whole demeanor change, going from his unsure and hesitant lover to the hardened military strategist he had met what felt like a lifetime ago now.

His fingers curled in the duvet under him as he shivered with anticipation.

Firm leather brushed his ass, making Jack trembled in place. It ran over first one cheek and then the other, ghosting down his center until it pushed against his hole. He whimpered.

"None of that," came Pitch's hardened voice, and Jack struggled to comply, but all he wanted was to fall face first into the bed and beg the man to touch him. "Needy little things like you don't get what they want, even if they do make such sweet sounds." He rubbed the crop more firmly over Jack's entrance, and he had to stifle his moan into the covers. "I don't think I appreciate such disrespect." He pulled the crop away to tap against a cheek gently. "Do you agree, darling?"

Jack nodded shakily. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Hm." Pitch seemed to be struggling for dialogue, but Jack was so turned on by him playing along that he was willing to wait as long as he needed. It wasn't like they had hashed out a specific scenario to lead into this. He actually hadn't thought Pitch would want to jump right on in to begin with! Jack had thought they would need to ease into it all a little more, get his lover more comfortable taking charge like this, but Pitch was proving to be almost natural at it. Pitch's eyes on him alone was enough to keep him hard for hours, and, oh, they were going to have to talk about such a scenario at some point, weren't they?

Jack's cock was leaking between his legs, almost painful with how hard he was. He needed to move this along or he was going to have to safeword out, because this was almost too much too soon. "How can I make it up to you, Sir?" he murmured, glancing over his shoulder again.

Pitch was staring at him like he didn't know what he wanted to do to him first, and, fuck, Jack needed him to do something! He shook his ass, his arousal noticeably swaying between his legs, if Pitch's eyes dropping down to stare at it meant anything.

"I'm, uh..." Pitch swallowed, hands balling into fists at his sides, breath coming a little shaky. "Ye... Yellow."

Jack didn't move off the bed, but he sat up, turning his upper body toward his lover. His brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

A shaky breath left Pitch, but his eyes remained glued to Jack's ass. Jack thought that might be a good sign. "I don't..." Pitch exhaled again. "I'm at a loss."

Jack pursed his lips. He turned around to face him. Pitch stifled a distressed noise at that, and he almost laughed at the older man. "OK. How so?"

"I-I don't..." Pitch ran a hand through his hair, scowling at the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing. I d-don't know how to segue into... hitting you." He sounded genuinely distressed.

"Do you want to stop?" Jack asked. His tone left no room for argument.

Pitch's brow furrowed. He remained quiet. Jack sighed quietly, and he tried not to feel disappointed.

"We can stop, Koz," he said quietly. He met Pitch's eyes when the older man finally looked back at him. He shrugged, offering a small grin. "It's really not that big a deal. I'm... kinda surprised you made it this far anyway." He chuckled a little.

"Jack..."

Jack hated how soft his voice sounded.

"Seriously, it's fine!" He forced a laugh, ignoring the tears that sprang to his eyes. "We don't have to go further! Just... come over here and give me some cuddles or something. I don't want you to feel like -"

"I want to bury my face in your arse," Pitch suddenly announced. Jack's face went scarlet, wide eyes darting up to meet blazing gold. Pitch's pupils were still blown so wide as he racked his eyes over Jack's body. "How I get to that point from here, I do not know, but this is... Frankly, this is torture. How do I get to that point?"

Jack almost spit for how sudden his laughter was. "You -"

"Jack, please," Pitch practically begged. "Am I allowed to touch you? Or does that come later?"

It took serious effort to stifle his giggles. They sounded near hysterical to his own ears, and he watched through watery eyes as Pitch stepped closer. "Pitch -" Jack cut himself off with more laughter, near doubled over. "Oh, my god, I can't -" he gasped in a breath, nearly losing it again when he caught sight of his lover's impatient face. "B-Babe, pfft - you're in control here! You can do whatever you want to me as long as I get the crop or unless I safeword out!" He reached out both hands for his lover, Pitch stepping in close until Jack could grab the collar of his partially open shirt and drag him closer. He shifted, lifting up on his knees so he could give the taller man a reassuring kiss, moaning when Pitch tried to follow him when he pulled away. Jack grinned. "The ass-whooping is my punishment; ass-eating is the reward."

"So it's to be a punishment, then," Pitch clarified. His voice went velvety dark as he said it, something in Jack's words seeming to click for the older man. It made Jack's face flush once again. Pitch grabbed one thin wrist in his free hand, pulling Jack away. "In that case -" he smirked wickedly " - green." He shoved Jack back onto the bed. Jack yelped.

Before he could catch his bearings and scramble back up, the crop came down on his chest - not enough to hurt, but enough to make an audible sound and leave a light mark on his pectoral. Jack gasped, dropping back down to his elbows, eyes clenched shut as tingles shot from the spot all the way to his groin. The crop dragged down to his belly.

"You are an absolute bloody menace." Another hit landed just under his ribs, Jack arching and crying out. He gaped up at the ceiling as Pitch dragged it even further down, tracing the seam of his hips. "And you think," Pitch ran the leather tip in a circle on the sensitive skin just below Jack's naval, "you can just tease me anyway you'd like?" He barely tapped it against Jack's weeping member, nearly making him sob when it bounced in place. He trembled. "I think making me wait is punishment enough. On your knees."

Jack couldn't move fast enough.

He scrambled back to his position from before, ass out and knees spread as he pressed his chest to the mattress, all but prostrating himself for his lover. Leather ran up from the back of his knee, tickling sensitive skin as Pitch dragged the crop up to his ass. He lay it flat to his skin, Jack shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the duvet in anticipation.

"How many do you think you deserve?" Pitch asked. He held the crop steady as Jack tried to wiggle his ass at him for more attention. Then he gave him a good swat.

"AH!" Jack's head shot up with the hit, the cry ripped from his throat in his shock. His cock was already dripping from how hard he was.

"None of that," Pitch ordered. He rested the crop on stinging flesh. "I think I've had enough teasing for one night. Answer my question, Jack."

Jack swallowed, burying his heated face in the cover. "F-Five..." he whispered. It was a number he had decided on before they started, something to ease them both into this. At the rate it was going, however, he might not even last that long.

Another swat stung his other cheek, and Jack nearly screeched, head jerking up in shock. His hips tried to rock uselessly forward.

"What was that, darling?" Pitch pulled the crop away. "I couldn't quite hear you."

Jack licked his lips, panting. "F-Five hits, S-Sir!" he stuttered a little louder. He couldn't bear to look over his shoulder at Pitch.

"Good boy, Jack. Five should do nicely. Are you ready?"

Jack didn't even get a chance to reply before the first real smack hit him just above where ass met thigh. A sound was ripped from him, somewhere between a screech and a moan, and he clutched the covers hard between his fingers. Tears stung his eyes, and euphoria threatened to consume him with the beautiful sting of pain.

"Is that what you wanted, Jack?" Pitch asked, voice gone dark with menace. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

Jack trembled where he lay. "Oh, god... Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir!"

"Don't you sound so pretty. Let's hear it again, hm?"

And he swatted Jack again, this time across the other cheek, and Jack squealed. His face was on fire, and he buried it in the duvet, tears soaking the fabric where he had his eyes clenched shut. "Oh, fuck, thank you, Sir!"

"This is a good look for you," he thought he heard Pitch say behind him. There was a fog rolling in, keeping him from paying attention to anything but the next hit. It came soon after, across the same cheek, Jack whining into the sheets. "Don't hide yourself, Jack. I'm doing this for you, after all."

"Y-Yes, Sir! Thank you!"

"So sweet." Was that a grin he could hear in Pitch's voice? Jack wasn't sure. He was too busy gasping for air as a sob threatened to escape his throat. "But I'm sure you can sound sweeter."

The next hit landed in the same sensitive spot as the first, where ass met thigh and lit up his nerves with fire. He screamed into the sheets, that sob ripped from his throat as his legs shook. His toes curled, back arching, and it took him longer than before to catch his breath again.

"Th-Thank you, Sir..." he hiccuped into the sheets. When Pitch didn't respond, Jack hesitantly shook his ass, and he heard a quiet groan somewhere behind him. "G-Green..." he sniffed.

"Gods, you're fucking gorgeous," Pitch suddenly growled. Jack jumped as the crop found his skin again, but all Pitch did was trail it gently along the painful spots on his ass - a mockery of a caress that made Jack's skin twitch and his muscles quiver. The crop dragged over his heavy sac to tap his member. "Look at you... You're dripping all over and I haven't even touched you yet." He continued to rub firm leather along sensitive flesh, letting pearly fluid catch on the end of the crop. Whimpering, Jack tried to thrust forward, to get even the slightest bit of friction on his cock, but Pitch pulled it away with a firm tap, making his length bounce and Jack nearly sob. "You don't get to come yet, Jack," he said darkly. The crop rubbed once more over his cheeks. Jack's back tensed. "I still owe you one more. Are you ready?"

Jack didn't even have time to respond or even just nod his head before he was screaming with the final hit across both his cheeks, rocking forward with the force of it, cock spurting with pre as unexpected pleasure ripped through him. He sobbed into the bed, fingers curled tight in the covers.

"Fuck!" he screamed, legs spreading even wider in an effort to rub himself on the bed. "Fuck, fuck, fu~uck! Thank you, Sir! Thank you - oh, god, I'm so close, please, Sir, I need it, I need you, I need - fuck!"

Two big, hot hands spread his stinging cheeks, thumbs pulling at his rim until hot breath and an even hotter tongue found his hole and plunged inside. Jack screamed, writhing on the bed as he tried to fuck back on that wonderful tongue, Pitch groaning obscenely loud compared to how quiet and controlled he had held himself until now.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get more inside him, all but sobbing when Pitch refused to give him what he needed. His tongue was searing in its heat, and Jack's tears soaked into the cover as he cried, shaking and desperate. He listened to Pitch's moans, feeling little vibrations of sensation shoot up his spine until he couldn't take it anymore, and he arched to try and catch a glance at the older man.

"P-Pitch," he sobbed, "Pitch, please, I can't - I need -"

That tongue was gone in the next instant, Jack gasping at the sudden emptiness, his hole clenching around nothing. He sobbed again, frustration making him thrust his hips for some kind of friction until a hard smack to his ass made him gasp and jump. The sting of a hand on flesh had his eyes clenching shut. Big hands took a firm hold of his hips, yanking him back to the edge of the bed, and with no warning, Pitch's long, hard cock was forced inside in one hard shove.

A guttural scream ripped from Jack's throat, tears soaking his cheeks, and he came untouched almost immediately, forcing himself back on the long cock inside him with every near painful spurt. Pitch held him in place, groaning loud and deep, and it took only a few thrusts before warmth flooded Jack's insides. He whined at the sensation, trying to meet every twitch of Pitch's hips, until all at once, his legs seemed to give out, and all that held up his slumped form was Pitch's strength alone.

Minute tremors ran through lithe muscle as Jack was lowered back down on the bed. He shook, tears soaking into the sheets as his ass stung in the cool air and his face burned.

God, what must Pitch think of him?

He tried to lift himself up, but his arms shook so bad that he could barely move them, let alone support his weight, and he collapsed back to the bed. He tried to hide his face, only to moan when hot hands found his skin, slick with some kind of lotion, rubbing it gently into his tender flesh.

"You did so well, Jack..." Pitch murmured from behind him, voice achingly soft and gentle. "You were so very good for me; so beautiful and obedient."

Jack sniffled, peeking an eye over his shoulder to meet Pitch's adoring gaze. "I-I did good?"

Pitch smiled at him, gold eyes gleaming with love. "So good, Jack. You were such a good boy for me." He rubbed the last of the ointment into Jack's skin before crawling up the bed, picking Jack up easily as he went to rearrange them both more comfortably at the head of the bed. He held the younger man securely in warm arms, Jack burying his face in his exposed chest as he clutched at his shirt. Pitch moved a hand up to card his fingers through sweaty white hair. "Thank you for being so patient with me, love," he whispered, placing a kiss to Jack's hair.

When Jack's shaking finally died down and he felt like he could speak normally again, he pulled away to gaze up at his lover, filled with nothing but love and adoration for the man. He placed a soft kiss on his chin. "Next time, I think I might ask you to go harder on me," he murmured, voice hoarse from screaming.

Pitch kissed his brow in return, fingers gentle on his back. His smirk was wicked when he met Jack's gaze, however. "Next time, I'm going to fuck you with the handle of that crop until you can't speak anymore."

Arousal lit up Jack's spine with a shock, and he moaned, his length twitching half-heartedly against the thigh shoved between his legs. He grinned back, eyes going heavy with desire. "Oh, yes, Sir, please..."

It looked like Pitch really would have no trouble taking up the title as Jack's Dom after all.

---

I'll clean it up and add it to ao3 later!

[jaimeski]

crazy question but have u ever drawn yaoi where one is a girl? i forget what's it called tho

HETEROSEXUALITY?

[spicy-apple-pie]

Hi spicy! This is my first time doing an ask for you!

What do you think of the hc that kryptonians can purr?

Idk if this is an ask on what you think or a drawing request but you could pick either one (it would be cool if you did both!)

I read this fic a while ago that had this hc, and it has had a claim on my mind ever since

I think this would look really cute in your art style or I just would really love to know what you think of it, if you don't wanna draw that

(The fics name is cat tactic of healing by CarrionCarnival if you want to read it :D)

Btw I love your Damijon art and I absolutely die every time I see it. They're just so cute!

I hope you have a good day/night!

First of all, thank you so very much!! It means a lot to me!

Second of all, I LOVE that headcanon. I had to doodle something real quick lol. Cat’s bones vibrate at a frequency that helps bones heal, so Damian gets some prescription cuddles!!

Sorry that it’s so mess, I might do a cleaner version later and tag you in it.

[spro-o]

this is so stupid but

Hannibal and house meeting

they'd absolutely be worst enemies or besties

I think Hannibal would judge the shit outta Hoise for his (lack of) grooming habits, and House would want to out Hannibal in a Petri dish and analyse him 🫶 they’d be such worsties

also I apologise for taking absolute ages to get through requests - I’m going them chronologically so bare with me yall 😭

[yellowflowrs]

i cant help but imagine swapped narinder's reaction to the carillonneur pre-insanity arc.

"there's no way this is the same motherfucker"

yeah

bonus little lazy comic

[idiotsyncratic0]

*Shaking you* your art is so good!

sorry i saw the tag that you've been a fan a submas for a long time and i got excited

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 🧡

I don't have any old old art of them, but here! I redrew an older piece of them hard at work at their minimum wage jobs!!!

[chocostrwberry]

Yo! I wanna see how would Chloé and Zoé interact in your AU. (Also, I freakin' adore your art style XD)

(TYSM for the compliment!! 🌈🌈🩷🥹🤲)

I HAVE A WHOLE THING AB THAT- 🫵

Quick chocoau! Zoe backstory: She’s an influencer from Los Angeles who came to Paris for an abroad trip vlog (funded by Audrey, ofc). So she’s basically a social media nepo baby. So there’s also that contrast with how she portrays herself in a “shallow” personality and who she really is, which is reserved and shy and insecure.

I was thinking that when Zoe showed up to stay with them, Chloe got like, a whiplash of trauma of how Audrey basically hates her and loves Zoe more (sending her gifts and funding her trips) so whenever she’s around her she’s more hostile and cruel, but also anxious and always on edge.

Zoe is gonna be the final part of Chloe’s redemption arc, because by the time Zoe is in the picture, she’s still Queen Bee. Some trauma bonding later and Chloe is actually the one to give her bee miraculous to Zoe, because she realizes that she’s not a good miraculous holder bc of her own baggage and Zoe would be the best fit and deserves it, solidifying Chloe’s redemption arc!!

TLDR; it started out being a one-sided hatred, but then they become literal sisters!! 🩷🩵🐝

[itsonlypolite]

I just noticed. Your cheated design has clipped wings, or what looks like it. Did he just happen to be like that or was it from his fight with the Razor

Yes!! I'm so glad someone noticed!! So if anyone's keeping track, my Cheated can't fly because his wings are clipped, one of them has been cut off, AND he's afraid of heights :)

[poindexters-labratory]

idk what character but can you draw someone dabbing

ask and ye shall receive

slenderdab

[distressedwalnut]

Can you do the scientist tower celebrating Christmas:3? Hopefully Phobos is nice Enough to I've his employees presents

He's nice enough to let them celebrate

[mollywog]

Oooh tell me how what you find interesting about the “I don’t know how you survived this long” line from Peeta. Now that I think about it’s so interesting to me that Peeta thinks lying is a necessity for surviving, and actually says a lot about how he was raised?

Ooo thank you for the ask @mage-chocolate!!

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.

Three different levels here: Living in Panem in general, surviving the Games, Peeta’s home life (this is more HC stuff)

In Panem

You’d expect Katniss would need to be a good liar with all her illegal activities, but fortunately she’s recognized this and has found other ways to stay out of trouble:

When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public mar-ket. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money. Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?

Not to mention, she says the peacekeepers are among her best customers (don’t execute bite the hand that feeds.)

In the games

Let me start with a kudos to @cutpaperbleedswater for their point from this ask

The idea of putting on a facade and pretending to be something for the sake of strategy is everywhere- from Katniss slipping her mask of indifference on and not crying as soon as she volunteers to her interview prep struggles:

"All right, enough," he says. "We've got to find another angle. Not only are you hostile, I don't know anything about you. I've asked you fifty questions and still have no sense of your life, your family, what you care about. They want to know about you, Katniss."

"But I don't want them to! They're already taking my future! They can't have the things that mattered to me in the past!" I say.

"Then lie! Make something up!" says Haymitch.

"I'm not good at lying," I say.

"Well, you better learn fast. You've got about as much charm as a dead slug," says Haymitch.

…

By the end of the session, I am no one at all. Haymitch started drinking somewhere around witty, and a nasty edge has crept into his voice. "I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them."

I’m also thinking about Katniss hiding her tears over Thresh’s death because it won’t play well for sponsors.

In Peeta’s home life

We know Peeta’s mother physically and verbally assaults him at least once in the past and it’s suggested it wasn’t a one-off occurrence.

So moving into the stuff of HCs: I imagine that Mrs. Mellark is sort of unpredictable - that she can be loving and charming (Peeta’s charm comes from somewhere and Mr. Mellark is often described as quiet), but she can also turn on a dime. And as a result the family walks on egg shells and Peeta, from a young age becomes accurately perceptive of moods (and then by extension others’), and learns to anticipate reactions and lie convincingly - skills he applies beyond just his home life.

[datcravat]

HI HELLO I love your art So much,,, do you have any tutorials on how you render your stuff? For example, the colors you use & how you pick them, how you get that pink tone around the Lineart (I think) (it's just rly cool). I would love to see stuff like that, cuz your art is Such visual candy (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Hey! Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my art, I worked hard to make it what it is!! Means a lot you appreciate it!!!!!!

I've had no professional art training, I seriously don't know what I'm doing and struggle making tutorials. But will try here!!

For me the colour work is really situational on the drawing! I find myself experimentally attempting to weaponize colour theory and there's a lot of instinct involved that I can't figure out how to verbalise yet. Here's an example of some thought process I have:

My main advice is to play with sliders a lot and really experiment (that's what I do for every drawing)!

To get the pink glow around your lineart, copy your lineart layer, fill the copy in with a pink of your choice (sometimes I do a gradient), blur the layer (experiment with how much blur you'd like), put it directly below the lineart layer, and set the layer to multiply (or any mode you think looks pretty)!

You may want to adjust your piece's brightness/colours after applying it and sharpen the image after exporting.

A lot of colour gradients are involved and on their own they can eventually compromise the gritty/punchy style, especially the ones that are between extreme and subtle. A good way to combat this is with screentones/haftones!! You can use them to diversify colours and imply shading/texture.

I recommend going nuts and having a lot of fun with it to find what works for you!

I often add a lot of small lens flares as they satisfyingly cut through the piece, imply flash photography (which goes well with the strong black shading), add visual noise to areas you don't want to be your main point of focus, are a great way to show speculars, and idk man sparkles are just pretty haha.

Go nuts with them and have fun!! When you get them to look good, think to yourself why that is.

I made a tutorial ~1 year ago on how I shade with black. This simple trick will really help it look good, 3D and rendered - it just requires a lot of knowledge about shadows to start with. I have a lot of experience rendering "normally" which helped me learn how to use black in an experimental way.

Minor correction that the shadows labelled "ambient occlusion" in the tutorial are actually just normal shadows, ambient occlusion is total lack of light.

I hope this is useful to you!! You have a knack for art, your work is very inspired. Please keep drawing!! I am still learning too, let's keep going baby.

-Cravat x

[jaimeski]

ok before i lose my nerve

if i may ask

some aymaxo? (pierre/max)

they're so doomed old men yaoi it's so miserable and cursed but actually Pierre really loves him and Maxo only ever planned on using Pierre and i hate how much i actually got invested in this ship and i see hardly any content that doesnt just make it a meme (distant echoey wails)

(((ps its absolutely fine if not dwwwww hope you have good mornight <3))

[spicy-apple-pie]

Next time it will be a cat, cow,

Damian waking Bruce up: “Father, I need help.”

Bruce, panicking because Damian never asks for help: “What? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Damian, clutching his face: “Alfred accidentally stepped on my eye, and now I can’t see.”

Bruce, not catching on that Damian means the cat not the butler: “????”