#also the pose i used for reference was of a person holding a cat

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heyyy can you please write something for Nico x male reader where Nico has seen reader around camp and reader is friendly and always laughing and talking with everyone. And Nico develops a crush on reader and eventually he decides to confess to reader when he sees them in the woods. Fluffy mainly but like a little spicey at the end if u do that stuff? :)

hey there bestie, let's pretend it hasn't been two months. this fic is also for @golden-boy-muda 's request for nico x transmasc reader <3

I couldn't find an idea in my empty ol head for this request but then I was looking for old oil painting wallpapers for my phone and now you have this incredibly sappy 3.2k of art references [I advise you keep another tab open for cross-referencing if you want the fUlL eXpErIeNcE]

Oil on Canvas--- Nico di Angelo x transmasc reader [3.2k] »»————-　★　————-««

Nico definitely isn’t a stalker, he understands boundaries [once Jason explains them to him, of course], but he might have a bit of a staring problem. 

Sometimes he’s just eating gluten free waffles with Hazel in the dining pavilion and ends up watching you shove your siblings around and plait your little sister's hair so it doesn’t get in her face when she goes Pegasus riding.

He spooned some blueberries onto his plate. 

It’s not his fault.

It’s yours, if anything. What is he supposed to do apart from feel like there’s moths beneath his ribcage when you pose, your nose scrunched, up for photos with Drew’s polaroid camera that’s covered with inappropriate stickers? 

Hazel elbowed him meaningfully in the side when he couldn’t help but grin because Holy Hades, a single person shouldn’t be able to look that much like the painting Ophelia [by friedrich heyser, to be specific], just because they wore a green camp shirt and a pearl necklace. 

Maybe it was his fault that he was comparing you to beautiful paintings. 

He scooped the blueberries onto his half eaten waffle and reached for the maple syrup Hazel had finished drowning her breakfast in. 

The Stoll brother’s mortal mum had sent a stack of paintings from art galleries all over the world last Christmas, and they’d let him pick out a few of the older more poetic ones that didn’t have enough blood and guts for their taste. 

Now the oil paintings of lakes and birds and crying angels and… mainly cats, actually, hung around the dark walled Cabin he slept in. 

Your laugh when you threw strawberries at Kayla and Austin while they worked in the infirmary reminded him of Angel [carl von marr, of course] and he felt like Chat a difficult catch [charles van den eycken] when you walked right past him without even glancing back.

So he’d made peace with watching from afar how you would forget daily to put sunscreen on but somehow always remembered to wear this pair of white crocheted gloves that looked like cat paws. 

On a completely irrelevant note, Nico was learning to crochet. 

Hazel made eye contact with him again when he looked from you to her, and he plugged his ears and glared before she started kicking him in the shins and begging him to pluck up the courage to walk over and even just make eye contact. 

Not that he didn’t want to. 

He may have lined up in his catalog of daydreams, this scenario where you both went down to the beach. Any beach, really. You’d collect shells and eat popcorn and grapes and lemonade and squish sand between your toes and pick up crabs with him. 

PROMENADE ON THE BEACH [Charles Atamian, obviously].

There was another scenario where he’d take you to the farmers market. It had the biggest bouquets of flowers, and rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables and incense and beaded jewelry. 

When he was laying in bed underneath the fluffy zebra patterned duvets that Piper forced him to use, mainly because they matched the dark reds of the cushions and browns of the bookshelves and antique lamps in the cabin so well, you were walking down the rows of little stores with him.

You were holding his hand with those soft cat paw gloves and you liked the feel of his rings [he’d read that people liked rings in a book, somewhere] and you’d filled the Studio Ghibli tote bag you had with berries. 

He’d watched most of the movies after he saw your bag. He liked Arriety the best. 

Clarisse stomped past the Hades table, leaving bloody footprints no one asked about, and smacked him in the back of his head. Nico went back to eating his waffles and daydreaming about your smile. 

In the farmers market you would sniff candles and never buy them because Hazel had far too many for all of her spells and the such that he would never run out. And what was Hazel’s was his and what was his was hers, meaning that what was Hazel’s was yours. 

Because Nico would give everything he owned, even his favorite jacket, for you to look his way. 

And he would buy you flowers, whichever were your favorite. 

Maybe the ones from the painting Hazel forced him to take because ‘you can’t just not hang a painting that literally is you, Neeks’. 

Italian Girl with Flowers. Joaquin Sorolla. 1886. 

He didn’t see the resemblance.

But it didn’t really matter, because he’d get to watch you looking at all the cool things for sale and then he’d take you to the best gelato he’d found so far [he was making a list] or just use the shadows, and take you to a proper gelato shop. Whatever you wanted to do, really.

Nico blinked. He huffed, mainly at himself, and stabbed his waffle. It fell apart on the fork.

“Why’re you angry?”

He looked up from his plate, to Hazel. She was sitting opposite him with a mustache made of orange juice. “...I’m not.”

“You’re not supposed to be pushing down your emotions, remember?” she said sternly, and started picking the green bits off a strawberry. She was eating as many berries as she could, since she wasn’t allowed lollies anymore. The perks of braces. 

Nico looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking about the cat glove girl, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

“Cat glove boy, remember?” he muttered, and took a bite of his waffle, wiping squished blueberries off his chin.

Hazel’s golden eyes widened, “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said, and was grateful for the excuse to peek your way. You were eating toast. Very pretty-ily. He felt his face heat up.

Hazel perked up, a mischievous grin he didn’t appreciate on her face. “Okay! I’ll go apologize to your boyfriend then-”

Nico stared at her. Why was she like this? She actually went to stand up, and then he yanked her sleeve, pulling her back down to the table. “No! Don’t just… you can’t… stop!”

“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend,” Jason chuckled, sitting down next to Hazel. 

“I hate you all,” Nico said. 

It was torture. 

He felt like Sleepy time potion [Vanessa Stockhard], stuck in the middle of your loveliness, unable to do anything except stare and hope that his face wasn’t too as red as the mushroom he was sitting on. 

In the painting. 

Not in real life. 

Obviously. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico stared down at the hat in his lap.

He’d done it. He’d actually finished one of the hundreds of projects he’d started in Piper’s efforts to find him a hobby that wasn’t sitting on the fences of cemeteries or standing in line at Mcdonalds. 

He had lots of other hobbies, he just… couldn’t come up with them when she was arguing with him. 

So they’d gone through writing, painting, records, sleeping, which he excelled in, and then crocheting. None had lasted very long, but he may have had an idea half way through trying to stab Piper with the crocheting stick.

And now he had a white bucket hat with cat ears.

He threw it to the end of his bed, and hid underneath his duvet. Fuck. 

Repose. Malcolm Liepke. 1953. 

What on Olympus was he supposed to do about the way he wanted to hold you so badly he felt like throwing up and tearing his hair out?

He lay underneath in the pocket of stuffy darkness for a moment, before sitting up, untangling his blankets and teddies from him, and then standing. He may have just had the greatest idea anyone had ever thought of before.

Hazel was still in the shower, singing, most likely, so he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack that was actually just a skeleton, and then stomped out of his cabin, the stupid hat in his fist.

His heart was beating wildly. Stupid heart. 

The Wedding Dress. Fred Ellwell. 1911.

He rubbed his face and groaned at the sky. The stars were just peeking out, but it was still pink and yellow, and the sun hadn’t dipped yet. It was hidden by the trees he was trudging through, though. 

Fuck.

His chest was hurting. 

Nico scrunched up the stupid perfect crocheted hat that just had to stupidly perfectly match your stupid perfect cat gloves because Nico was stupidly perfectly obsessed with you. 

You, who was stupidly perfect.

Fuck. 

Psyche Weeping. Kinuko Y Craft. 1995.

He trod on twigs that broke underneath his boots and weaved through the tree’s that slowly became more and more laden with hanging pendants and wind chimes and ruins carved into the bark.

He stepped over a thin stream. A frog croaked at him like it was dying. As if it could ever feel like it was dying. As if it could ever fall in love.

Nico groaned at the sky again. 

“Just let it all out.”

He turned, and glared. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, actually,” Lou Ellen said, raising a purple eyebrow. It matched the undersides of her curly hair. She pointed to the cabin concealed in shadows and moss and stones behind her. “This is my house. And you are yelling very loudly.”

“I’m not yelling,” Nico argued. “I’m groaning.”

She stared at him for a second. She rolled her eyes. “Just come in, what do you need?”

“I need a spell. Or a charm. Or hex,” Nico said, following her through the wooden double doors. A wind chime tinkled even though the air was still. There were a few bunks lined up against the wall to one side. “Or a magic thing. I don’t care which one.” 

The rest of the cabin was filled with small coffin shaped pet beds and empty pink soda cans and voodoo dolls hanging from the roof and rugs with cats wearing strawberry hats on the fluffy material and misty crystal balls. 

Lou Ellen lent back on a desk stacked high with papers and paperweights that were actually jars filled with things. “Okay. I have three rules. I don’t kill people, and I don’t make people fall in love.”

“...And?”

“I’ll break both if it’ll be fun?”

Nico frowned. “No. Aren’t you supposed to say you won’t bring people back from the dead? That’s always the third rule.”

She squinted at him. “Uh…no. I send those people to you.” 

Nico squinted back at her, sticking his tongue out. He fiddled with the stupid perfect hat and looked around. There was just more creepy things and stuffed animals. “Whatever. I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to… like,” Nico started. He sighed. He looked away. 

This was awful. 

He was not about to admit that he might be in love, even if it was to reverse the feelings in the first place with whatever heart ripping out brain altering magic was necessary. 

The Apollo cabin would find out through the witch in less than thirty seconds. He would never live it down. 

Nico groaned again. “Oh for fucks sake, do you need me to fic your voicebox or something?” Lou Ellen hissed. 

Nico glared at her. He groaned again, and then whirled around and stomped out of the weird mossy mushroom cabin. “Nevermind!”

“Fine! Have it your way!...weird little emo.”

Nico glared at the frog croaking at him, and kept walking through the forest. 

He followed the little stream through the woods until he could hear wind chimes or Taylor Swift’s latest album anymore. 

The little stream widened into a proper stream, filled with a lot more frogs. Why were there so many frogs? He nearly stood on a green one leaping across the path. Stupid frog.

Nico stuffed his hands into his pockets, along with the hat. He was tempted to just toss it into the river. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of the silly feelings that felt like the biggest things in the world to him and his silly head full of thoughts about your lips.

Maybe the frogs could use the hat as a home.

“Here froggie… Come here… I said, come here... No I am not taking a tone with you!” 

Nico froze. 

Fuck. He took a deep breath, probably too loudly. He glanced to the side. 

Of course you were catching frogs, knee deep in a river.

You looked over, making eye contact, and Nico realized the moths underneath his ribcage were turning into bats. You squinted at him, hands on your hips, while water swirled around and leaves drifted from the trees above. A bucket was wedged between two rocks next to you.

A frog jumped out of it and landed near your leg, on a lillypad. 

“Look Albert,” you said, turning to the frog. “It’s a little Victorian ghost.”

“...I’m Italian,” Nico said quietly. He stared at you. He couldn’t help it. Wow. Fuck. Leo was right. He really was pathetic. “And I’m not a ghost.”

“Okay, Victorian ghost.” 

Nico stared at you. Fuck.

After that exchange, he should be able to hate you. Right? Right. He now resented you, and the moths turned bats would stop clawing at his chest and he would go back to having a normal life. 

Right?

Wrong.

You squinted at Nico, and then slowly turned to Albert. “I think the cute Victorian ghost is having a stroke.”

Nico blinked once, gulped, and then marched forward through the cold water and frogs, his shoes squelching loudly. Gods. This was so embarrassing. But you thought he was cute, even if you also thought he was a dead english boy, so he would be content with dying from embarrassment. 

He shoved the stupid perfect hat into your stupid perfect hands.

And then left in about 0.3 seconds. 

»»————-　★　————-««

You stared down at your pancakes. Why were they so gray looking? Had someone poisoned them? You figured that it would be a pretty good way to die, and tipped extra maple syrup onto them before you dug in. 

To counterbalance the poison, of course.

You scratched at the mosquito bite underneath the strap of your binder. It had flowers embroidered into it. Your binder. Not the mosquito bite.

One of your siblings across from you kicked at your shin, probably on purpose, but you continued to eat your odd tasting pancakes and picked blueberry grit off your white cat paw gloves. They were your favorite gloves. 

They also matched your new hat. The new hat that the cute Victorian but actually Italian ghost boy had given you before he teleported away with whatever dark magic he had stored in all that goth-ness.

You tossed a blueberry at Clarisse when she walked past and tried to bash you over the head. 

She wasn’t allowed to ruin your new hat.

You turned to see her flicking the blueberry over at someone else, and your eyes flicked past that too. Now way. You stood up, but you’d lost sight of the mess of dark hair when the Hermes cabin barrelled past.

You clambered onto your seat and stood up there. “Oi! Victorian ghost hat boy!”

The dining pavilion went quiet pretty quickly, and everyone turned to the cute guy with a skeleton hoodie and wide eyes. He pointed at himself when you pointed at him, and then went pink. 

Clarisse stuck her arm out so you didn’t faceplant when you jumped down from your seat, and you held onto your new hat as you traipsed across the cracked floor. 

You’d never figured out how that crack had got there. But there were bigger mysteries. 

Like this cute goth. 

His face just pinker when you grabbed his sleeve and tried to tug him out of the entire camp’s curious eyes. A dark skinned girl with a lot of butterfly clips and a Steven Universe t-shirt sent a thumbs up in your direction. 

It was only when you were standing by the low burning fire pit in a patch of daisies did you realize you hadn’t really planned far enough ahead. 

You took off the cat-ear hat and looked down at it. “...Uhm…”

“Sorry,” the goth said quickly, and when you made eye contact he looked away even quicker. “It’s creepy. Boundaries and stuff, I just… saw your gloves.” 

“It’s not creepy,” you argued, putting the hat back on with a grin. He was really cute when he blushed. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea who you are but your eyeliner is really really great and… Holy Hades if you smile like that again can I… please kiss you?”

The goth with no name stared at you, and then nodded about ten times too many. “Yes please. But, uh.. If you’re gonna kiss me, please, maybe don’t get my dad involved.”

“...Wut?”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico could feel his cheeks growing hotter.

Not because of the sun, specifically, but it was hot and bright in the woods. He’d worn sunscreen though. And forced you to put it on too, once he’d found watermelon scented sunscreen, because you refused to smell gross no matter how sunburnt you would get anyways. 

His face was hot and red because of you. 

You, who was stupidly perfect and also possibly kind of Nico’s stupidly perfect boyfriend. 

“Psst, Victorian ghost boy,” you said with a sing-song voice, quietly, and waved your hand in front of his eyes with your pink, blue, and white painted nails. He blinked. You smiled. “You zoned out again.”

“Sorry,” Nico said, and pulled a daisy out of the ground. He handed it over. “I was thinking about you.”

He hadn’t realized the effect that saying that would have on you, but it was worth it when you opened and closed your mouth like one of the frogs you kept as pets. 

“I.. well, what were you thinking about?”

Nico had played his cards right. He smirked, and you shuffled forwards on the checked picnic blanket Piper had stolen from Drew, who’d probably nicked it from poor unsuspecting Demeter or Iris kid. You knocked over the basket of strawberries too, and then took your bucket hat off and stuffed it in your lap with a grin.

He tilted his head down. You were both following a very well rehearsed script. “...Kissing you?”

You launched yourself forwards then with a laugh, your cat-paw gloved hands landing on either side of his waist and probably squishing some of those strawberries at the same time. 

The sun reflected in your eyes and Nico held the sides of your face as he pressed his lips to yours. 

You kissed back, and once you both stopped smiling widely, you could kiss back. 

Properly. 

He scratched his fingernails, the ones you’d painted rainbow that afternoon after catching more frogs and complaining about sunscreen, along your jaw when you bit down on his bottom lip.

Not as a complaint, certainly not, and you knew that too because you just sat back on your knees between Nico’s lap and tilted your head to fit deeper against Nico’s bruised lips. 

The ones that hadn’t had a single day off since you jumped up in the middle of breakfast with your gluten free waffles you hadn’t realized were gluten free until he had explained it to you later. 

It was intensely crazily unbearably romantic but it also meant whatever cold one of you managed to catch, the other would come down with only minutes later. 

And Nico felt like that smug little cat from Julie Manet’s Auguste Renoir.  

»»————-　★　————-««

[robo-milky]

“Hey, Carrots!

No need to look so offended, I’m not here to cause any trouble, you know~. No favors to ask of either. It’s your special day, isn’t it? It is! So I came by to give you a present.

…Yeah, okay, it’s not really much, but it’s a gift nonetheless. Coupon for a special pop for the birthday girl~. You have a favorite flavor or something? I’ll try making it into a pop for you. A dozen for free! I’m real kind, I know.

Oh, and before I forgot. You know Ashi, don’t you? Poor girl couldn’t make it today, so she asked me to hand you a gift bag in her stead. Proves my trustworthiness, doesn’t it? Heh.

No need to worry, I didn’t peek at it… Hold some higher standards for me, would you?”

Niko hands over the bag. It’s a cute, pink, petite bag with cat decorations on it. It holds some resemblance to the feline holding it herself.

Grabbing what’s inside, there’s a little drawing with a note attached. It’s written with words and symbols that seem impossible to verbalize, but somehow it’s easy to imagine a certain brunette bringing life to them…

Clochey! HBD fam!~ Super bummed I couldn’t make it, but I hope this prezzie has enough of my energy baked into it that it feels like I’m there! LMK ASAP ☆

I wanted to send you a cute lil’ message ‘cuz I’m real thankful for us being friends, YK? Even tho we aren’t super buddy buddy, I still totally enjoy your company. Eppy tells me enough about you that it basically feels like I’m hanging with you myself!

Anyway~ I wanted to gift smth more personalized for you, so I drew up a little drawing! It’s kinda like a postcard, but I tried putting one of your fave things on it ♡ I hope you enjoy!~

We should SO get talkin’ again soonsies! Wishin you a happy birthday and many more with a certain huntsman <3

Sincerely, Ashi ♪

Cloche hears a chuckle after she’s done reading the note.

“Wow, Carrots, your face is a little red… Wonder what Ashi stirred up for you to get you, the cold clawed kitty to get lookin’ like that. Well, privacy is privacy. Guess that’s my cue to leave.

Here’s hoping you catch a break from all the trouble around campus, hm? Enjoy your day~.”

HAPPY BDAY CHRIS!!!!!!! I HOPE YOUR DAY AND WEEK AND TBH MONTH IS SO BANGER. ITS SO DESERVED!!!!!!! 🫶 it’s been SO nice being your moot for like?? WHAT??? TWO YEARS OR SMTH??? TIME IS SO CRAZY. it’s been such a treat being able to interact n talk w you since the beginning!!! I GET SUPER HAPPY WHENEVER I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS <333 HBD again and I hope life treats you well!!!!! 🙏 blessing your pulls and turning them into pomepulls……….. tehepero

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash] *them referring to our dear freshmen

Okay first of all… ASHIIIIIII YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME I SWEAR !!! THE FACT THAT YOU SENT THIS SO EARLY??!?! THE INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING! I JUST LOVE HOW THIS PLAYS OUT SO NATURALLY- Fr, Niko just waltzing into Ramshackle then dipping- aND THE GORGEOUS GORGEOUS ROOKLOCHE ART- LITERALLY SCREAMING OVER THE POSE AND DETAILS- YOU SERIOUSLY OUT DID YOURSELF FOR THIS ONE! Rook carrying her and Cloche grabbing on to him to get closer- SAVANACLAW ROOK MY BELOVED- Muscle man frrrr- Ashi really caught on to the cat maid’s staring during Chapter 7 huh. AND THE DOODLES ON RHE SIDES ARE TOO CUTE- 😩

Epel yapping on about Cloche and totally not suspiciously asking Ashi about her roommate- Ashi internally sweating bullets when Epel doesn’t realize that everything he describes is the cat maid making up excuses to avoid him-

Also take this… Cloche walking up to Niko days later and asking for a bone marrow pop, and it takes Niko a few seconds to realize it was a joke 😭😭 Slow burn friendship trust-

Really, it’s so wild that it’s been 2 years- So glad to have you here and to celebrate with you again !! I think you really blessed my pome pulls with this one- seriously- man came on the 30th pull twice- Ilyyyyy If makes me super happy to see you in my notifs as well and may we continue to interact in the future!

[300iqprower]

Ya know SMTIV, what this is actually perfect. Remember what I said about how Nasu could never be asked to show even a modicum of respect to Tezctalipoca as a figure, and how the "Tezcatlipoca" in FGO in no way has the spirit of their alleged origins?

Well I don't care much for this design either.

In fact I don't like SMT's (or more specifically Soejima's, who is still very much talented as I'll make clear) Tezcatlipoca design at all. I personally find it ugly and having an aesthetic I'm not that fond of, particularly the sort of "Bigfoot sighting" pose he has going on.

But i don't hate it, and I certainly am not morally opposed to it like FGO's, because even if I personally dislike it, ya know what it is? It's still undeniably based on Tezcatlipoca and keeps that spirit in several ways evident through design alone, let alone the way he's implemented into the game itself. It's a design that feels like it respects the culture it's taking its name from, and I'd much rather it do that than have an aesthetic I'm more fond of but lack any representation of its source material.

Just on a surface level you can see the ways in which this is meant to be Tez.

Holding a human heart with one arm, which were sacrificed to him in Aztec rituals

His body is visibly black and navy blue and made of a stony substance, which is a reference to the association many aztec gods but especially Tez had with obsidian rock, and the main symbol of Tez is an obsidian mirror.

Despite this, his other arm and legs are dissolving into smoke at the end, which is a reference to his main title of Smoking Mirror.

His skull-like head is pretty clearly meant to invokes a Calavera, which even if you didnt know the name of you've probably seen if you've ever witnessed a Day of the Dead festival.

That's all just the surface level stuff. There's plenty more if you know to look for it.

While one of his arms is visible, neither of his legs are, which fits with how Tezcatlipoca lost at least one of his legs to the giant crocodile Cipactli when the world was created

While blue isn't the primary color Tez is associated with, the use of teal/navy blue specifically fits with how he was often depicted with an almost interchangeable combination of grey-ish dark blue and black.

Despite my "bigfoot posture" remark, it very much fits Tezcatlipoca, whose spirit animal was the Jaguar, an animal well known for stalking and ambushing prey (rather than chasing it down like African big cats are known to do).

the way the smoke curls around as if forming an extremely distorted prosthetic foot matches how Tez's missing foot is specifically portrayed in the Codex Yohualli Ehécatl (AKA, the source of the image on Tez's wikipedia page), particularly with how the coloring shifts to orange-yellow at the end.

The most shaky but still worth noting claim: The emphasis on the blood flowing from the heart, combined with the gems embedded in Tez's head, could even be a reference to the Ezpitzal, which while looking very different in mesoamerican art still is no doubt connected, given how the key traits are flowing blood and embedding precious stone in [a crown above] the head.

So....do I like this design? No, personally, not really. I'm way too much of an edgelord to settle for such a toned down and subtle design for a figure like Tezcatlipoca.

Do I respect this design? Absolutely, zero question. It's the kind of design you could never get if they didn't at least TRY to research Tezcatlipoca, let alone do so well (at least i can only assume well based on the result). That's the difference between this design and "some white guy from the GAP who likes guns". You can tell they gave a shit, not just in general but specifically in regards to the culture being referenced.

(Oh, and also unlike FGO Tezcatlipoca, I don't need to be told "someone famous drew it" to be able to figure out someone talented drew it. )

[thefatedmeeting]

i'm completely normal

Previous / Next

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION – MIDNIGHT TRUTH TIME.

At the top is the strip’s title: “normal feelings about rgu”.

RGU refers to Revolutionary Girl Utena, an anime.

This comic’s art style is simple, scribbled, doodle-like, without realistic details. It’s black and white, with few colors painted in watercolor style.

Hyamara (caricature of the author; they have short and black hair, piercings in their ears and are using a white shirt with a colored strawberry and blue pants), at the center of the panel, has their eyes wide open and mouth open wide, holding their face with their hands. To their left, a person with short, brown hair and round glasses smiles with their mouth wide open, forming a “3” shape (like a cat’s mouth) facing Hyamara, and asks: “So, did you like Revolutionary Girl Utena?”. To the right of Hyamara, the background is black, and Hyamara mumbles without stopping (the font is in Hyamara’s own handwriting, which looks very sketchy and scribbled; it is also in capslock): “the inherent violence of gender and the fake “masculine” notion that power is abuse and should be pointed at others and especially hierarchic towards kids and poc and how society as a whole is structured around that and an silence is complicit to violence and-”. The rant ends here.

In the panel below, unlike the comic’s usual art style, Hyamara, with realistic proportions, has their eyes closed and mouth open, levitating from the ground, with their arms and hands stretching out away from themselves, towards the ground. From their chest a great shine bursts forth. In the background, there’s the universe – and stars and shining lines that burst from Hyamara. Around Hyamara, there are various texts: “down the depths of the ocean I can be my true self”, “I am just an actor” in caps lock, “characters play their parts on a fantasy”, “do they know it’s all a dream?”, “it is empty motion” in caps lock, “born once again to rehearse it once more”, “it’s an act that never ends”, “and a clock that never moves”. The person from the previous panel, Hyamara’s friend, observes the scene with their back to the viewer, and says: “I guess you did lol”.

Hyamara’s pose and the background are references to a meme called “galactic/expanding brain”, where a person (with Hyamara’s pose), increasingly “expands” their brain through ideas that are getting better (according to who makes the meme). The texts around Hyamara reference the duel songs from Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Below, there is the introduction of another strip, with the title: “hobbies”.

Hyamara sits on the ground, with their back to the viewer, but turning back their head to the viewer anyway, to smile at them. Around Hyamara, there is a mess of nerdy items (a print with Marcille and Falin from the anime Dungeon Meshi; an Yshtola figurine from the game Final Fantasy XIV; a print with Utena and Anthy from the anime Revolutionary Girl Utena; a Link plush doll, from the game The Legend of Zelda; and a print with Shulk, from the game Xenoblade Chronicles). Hyamara says to the viewer: “Whenever I like something I watch, read or play, my response is one out of three levels of enjoyment…”

On the next panel, there is a text above it, in a black square, that says: “1 – ‘this is cool haha’”. Inside the panel, Hyamara sits, laying on the back of their chair with their legs crossed in the seat, looking at a monitor in front of them. They have a bowl of popcorn in one hand, and another one with the thumbs up gesture (closed fist, all fingers closed except the thumb, which rises upwards; the gesture symbolizes approval – that everything’s good). They eat the popcorn, smiling. To their left, there is a text with an arrow pointing towards Hyamara, which says: “normal person”.

On the next panel, there is more text above it: “2 – it’s so good, but so bad.” Inside the panel, Hyamara sits in front of a table with three dolls of The Legend of Zelda (Zelda, Link and Ganondorf respectively; Zelda holds a nonbinary pride flag, and holds Link’s hand, which has a lesbian pride flag; Ganondorf has a trans pride flag). Hyamara has their eyes wide open and dark circles under their eyes, one hand holding their chin and the other pointing towards the dolls. Around Hyamara, there are the texts: “It needs more of that and less than this…”, “*steals it and makes headcanons*”; “*characters are mine now*”.

On the next panel, there is the last text above it, in caps lock: “3 - *rotates it in my head so much it’s transcended lightspeed*”. Inside the panel, the focus is very close to Hyamara’s face, who has their eyes wide open and red, their hands holding their head. In their forehead, there is a brain silhouette, and inside this is an image of space and of planet Earth, which is spinning rapidly in its own axis. There is a zoom effect in the Picture, with blurred borders and lines which point towards the center of the panel – this indicates movement.

Below, the footer of the comic starts, with the logo of Midnight Truth Time, and the list of logos with Hyamara’s social media:

Twitter/X logo: @hyacspen

Instagram logo: @hyacspen

Tumblr logo: @thefatedmeeting

Patreon logo: patreon.com/hyamara

Itch.io logo: hyamara.itch.io

Gumroad logo: hyamara.gumroad.com

Between star emojis: hyamara.com

Below, it’s written: CARRIED OUT BY, and the logos of Secretaria de Cultura de Novo Hamburgo, of Lei Paulo Gustavo, and of Federal Govermnent of Brazil’s Ministério da Cultura – União.

END OF IMAGE DESCRIPTION.]

[pheiral]

Master chef / Culinary crucible with IdoAzu lense

This include jp server spoiler

MasterChef where octa appear as judge:

2 mer: Fish- Floyd Azul, Paprika- Jade Floyd, Milk- Jade Floyd.

1 mer: Meat- Floyd, Spice- Jade, Bean- Azul, Potato- Azul, Noodle- Jade, (maybe there'll be solo judge Floyd later?)

As for personal story:

Azul judge Jamil (fish). He's lucky he got Jami. It'll be disastrous with his ultra sensitive taste bud if he get amateur cook.

Jade judge Floyd (noodle). Awfully suspicious judge rotation, how can he end up here? Bitching about the food too, really asking for a fight eh. He's always like this with Azul too. Sigh How handful.

Floyd judge Leona (milk). Leona failed it and it entertain Floyd so much he keep laughing at Leona. He thought all land dweller should have known how to use microwave, I wonder if this is knowledge he obtained from Jade and Azul because they're his sources.

Chef Octa

Bean Jade: poisoned Rook

Noodle Floyd: somehow Jade is his judge and critiques how he need more.

Waiting room Azul:

Oddity of Floyd master chef card (by extension, Sebek)

This card series buddy bonus supposed to be the other chef and judge in personal story. So Sebek and Jade and yet it's Sebek and not Jade. Sebek buddy bonus also not with his judge Jack, instead there's Trey. Where's those person then? What's happening with this banner cards? 🤔 It feels like either someone mess with the judge list or both original judge can't attend at the same time.

I'd love to think it's because Jade messed up the schedule ofc 😌, it's a very great move from him.

Octavinelle judge sprites comparison

that started because of Halloween Jade battle sprite baring his fang, so I got curious of their teeth in currently running cooking events in both servers since we have all octa attending!

*adding tsum Azul because cute fang (no Floyd since he always show his)

Let's begin teeth inspection

Azul only have one spoon feeding move to eat his entire serving, Jade two, Floyd three. Azul use of napkin after he eat.

The one with same animation as Azul during potato event is Vil. Riddle and Lilia also use napkin but they eat two times. Difference in physique?

Btw Grimm blow his food first since he has cat tongue and proceed to eat his food in one gulp).

Floyd hold the cutlery flipped but use right hand while holding the score board.

Interesting thing during milk event, there's 1 point difference with Jade giving less score. Even thought on previous event where they're both present aka paprika event, they have exact same score. Jade and Floyd have different preference with milk.

When they open their mouths while eating

When fed with Mystery food X or less than average food.

Expression for score 2,3,4. Just politely smiling at the amateurish attempt. Azul arms pose is half of each twin, right hand Jade and left hand Floyd. Super cute

Score 5,6,7. Getting better. Why do i feel like Azul smile because he find potential chef to work at mostro. Again Azul pose is half2 of the twin, big love.

8,9,10. Still need to point out how I like Azul arms look like that. Now it's the opposite from previous pose, his right just like Floyd and left same as Jade.

Azul's full score as reference

[unclewarwick]

introducing Yzyck Fournier and his friends, starting with this drawing i just finished today!

Cat Something is a very nervous and generally silent person. He was 'created' by Dr. Gones when she removed his brain from his original body and put it into the body he now inhabits. He does not like being near her. His memories of life before the procedure are scant; "Cat-something" was his response when asked for his name. Dr. Nibha Gones (pronounced 'Jones') is a mad scientist who likes to find the strangest and often most unethical ways to create new life. She likes to think she is the most reasonable person in her circle, but such a thing does not really exist. She is more reserved and disconnected from everyone. Yzyck Fournier (first name pronounced 'Isaac') is a Frankenstein-cum-Geppetto type who performs gender-affirming surgeries. He views Dr. Gones as his enemy, but they have also been friends for a very long time. Yzyck's friends (not including Dr. Gones) live with him in a big laboratory. He refers to many of his friends as his 'creations'.

Yaag Kralaaga is the most recent of Yzyck's creations. It's not quite dead and not quite alive. He is very clingy to Yzyck and sometimes only speaks one word at a time. It likes to meet new people, but new people do not like to meet it. Yaag can tend to have an aggressive demeanour. Accordion Doll is an animated accordion doll that Yzyck made. It does not have a name and mostly slinks around the lab aimlessly, not capable of much else. Magret is one of Yzyck's very old friends. He speaks through the gramophone horn and likes to wear a large variety of dresses. He was the subject of Yzyck's first experiment, which failed and resulted in Magret losing his head. His body was preserved for a long time until Yzyck felt he was skilled enough to bring his friend back.

there's not really a set storyline with this group, it's mostly just a way to have fun and draw whatever ridiculous ideas i get. the rest of the art in this post is from newest to oldest.

2024-07-17 -- dr. gones is invited to yzyck's place.

2024-07-15 and 2024-06-02 -- comic i struggled to colour in bc Tired, and some life advice from a man with varied and fantastical experience! both of these are the first time i properly drew a character (dr. gones, magret) while having the concept for them a very long time beforehand.

2024-04-20 -- an 'animation' using audio from conan o'brien's appearance on hot ones, with other original characters (Mick and Christian) that you can see more of in the #attic dweller tag.

2024-02-27 -- mick brought christian to be observed by yzyck, who observes more than mick hoped.

both 2023-12-28 -- a newspaper clipping and a very normal vlog.

2023-12-17 -- poster about how the ongoing pandemic is a workers' rights issue.

2023-11-12 and 2023-11-13 -- yaag in the "flirty" and "very flirty" sims 4 emotion poses as part of a not-abandoned-but-on-hold WIP where i'm trying to draw characters in each emotion pose from the game.

2023-10-23 -- one of my favourite drawings of my fellas! poses based off a photo of the monkees. it was hard to interpret whose body parts belonged to who since they were wearing matching outfits in the photo.

2023-09-04 -- mick asks if yzyck can take a look at this beast being kept in his attic. he is scared of everything. yaag is there too.

2023-07-13 -- animated gif of yzyck showing off his incredible skills. one of the first times i felt i "properly" drew him.

2023-06-22 -- ariel needs legs meme redraw with mick and yzyck.

2023-06-22 -- yzyck talks about his favourite thing to eat for breakfast.

2023-04-30 -- my first (kinda) full drawing of yaag. i am simply not good at planning out reference sheets, so i was unable to draw its head actually attached to its body..

all 2022-04-13 -- some loose early drawings of yzyck and magret.

2022-03-02 -- first drawing of yzyck - the words were a note to myself to remember the name and details of a new character i wanted to make.

2021-08-08 -- a demonstration of how the accordion doll can move. i'd forgotten to draw the pattern on the bellows.

2021-07-04 -- this all started with the accordion doll, which was a concept a friend had. at the time i drew this, i began to think about who would have created it.

[gillie266]

Yeein' On That 'Haw Ch. 8-- The New Kid in (Dial)Town

Once we were free of those weird mobsters, getting through the rest of the area was a breeze. Since it was practically the middle of the night, not many people were out and about. The only people we passed were either drunk or high off their balls and posed no problem to us. Even if they did, I’m sure Norm would have dealt with them efficiently. 

I noticed the way the shorter, suburban-style houses and shacks slowly morphed into staggeringly tall, urban buildings. Then the area became more recognizable; I spotted the familiar bank and the movie theater that I never went to, though I often found myself curious what movies were like in a world where everybody had phones for heads. I would have gone to see a movie, but the first time I walked in there, the kid working the concessions counter kept calling my head ‘groovy’ and ‘radical’ to the point of it being excessive. Oh, and I got harassed by a vengeful spirit, so that discouraged me from returning. 

The streets were empty, save for the occasional homeless person or rabid raccoon. One of them talked to me once. A raccoon, not a homeless person. It was kind of crazy. I can’t quite remember what he said, but I think it was some kind of cryptic message foretelling the arrival of some ancient God. And no, I had not consumed any nectar… that I knew of. 

“Welcome to Uptown Dialtown, Mr. Allen,” I turned to face Norm, who made a face at the way I referred to him. “Where the air smells like crystal meth, and the crystal meth smells like… actually, nevermind.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I’ve never actually smelled the crystal meth.”

“Damn.” Norm’s Sharpied eyes were wide with what seemed to be awe, scanning his surroundings and taking it all in. “This is Uptown Dialtown? This place has gone t’ shit.”

“Yeah, it does that,” I winced. “I have good news and bad news.”

The cowboy turned to me with a confused expression. He gestured for me to go on. 

“The good news is that Mingus’ office is close by. The bad news is that we’re in Uptown Dialtown. This place sucks ass, and we also might meet God, which is never good.” I looked around skeptically, analyzing our immediately area to see if the dogman I spoke of was nearby. He wasn’t. Thank–... I will not be finishing that statement. Might summon him or something.

Norm scoffed cynically. “I don’t think so, pardner. God lives up there,” he pointed to the darkened sky with the hand that wasn’t holding a revolver. “We won’t be meetin’ him tonight. At least, I hope we won’t be.”

I shrugged. “Alright, Norm. Alright.”

There was a brief pause before Norm spoke once more. “Where to?”

I sucked in a small breath through my teeth. “Probably the subway. I don’t feel like walking the fifteen minutes it takes to get there.” I didn’t allow him the time to object to taking the subway, marching in the direction of the nearest station entrance. 

It didn’t take long to get to the station. We descended the gross concrete stairs to the platform and checked to see if anyone was looking before hopping the turnstile. Our only witness was a stray cat, which I immediately threatened to get it to swear that it wouldn’t tell. It promptly scratched at my phone-face and sprinted away. I’m pretty sure Norm thought I was a psychopath. 

Regardless, we had some time before the train to Downtown Dialtown would arrive. The trains ran 24/7 for some odd reason, but that was none of my business. I just wanted to get out of there before Rat Hour hit. 

We stood in silence for a few moments before Norm broke it. “...Say, (Y/N), I’m not cut out fer this, am I?” 

My metaphorical eyebrows lifted in shock. “Damn, dude, that’s a deep question. And out of nowhere, too. What prompted that?”

He shrugged. “‘m not sure. I s’pose it jus’ dawned on me that I’ve been doin’ literally nothin’ fer th’ several years it’s been since I jumped int’ the future.” He took a breath. I noticed his reluctance to look at me. “I had a life before. I did bricklayin’, joined th’ Airforce, worked fer NASA… I even got int’ the good graces o’ th’ President himself.” A solemn expression crossed his bag-face. “Now look at me. I’ve been hidin’ away in a shack fer years, threatenin’ anyone who came t’ my door.”

I fell silent for a moment, looking down at the grimy tile floor. When I spoke, my voice was quiet and contemplative. “Well… you’re not doing that anymore, are you? Once Mingus is dead, you’ll be able to get back to your life. Minus the wife, of course, but–” I winced. Probably shouldn’t have brought up the dead wife. 

Norm didn’t seem to notice my insensitive mentioning of his late wife. He continued, “‘m not sure I can go about life as I did before. Everythin’s so… different. Everyone’s got phones fer heads, even you.”

I frowned– or I would have, if I didn’t have a phone for a head. “Hey, this wasn’t my choice, I kinda just… spawned in here like this.”

“But still,” Norm interjected, “I won’t be accepted here. That’s jus’ the truth o’ it.” His voice became more intense as he folded his arms in front of his chest. “‘m not sure if I can even go through with this plan o’ ours. Once we do get rid o’ th’ cat, what then? I run off somewhere remote where I won’t be discriminated against? I won’t even be able t’ enjoy the fruits o’ my labor.”

I looked up at him. “Once we’re done murdering Mingus, we need to find a way to get me back home, remember? What you do after that, I’m sure it won’t be too bad.” The words felt foreign from my own speaker. They didn’t feel…right. 

“Look, pardner. I got no idea how we’re gonna find ya a way back to… wherever y’came from. I dunno how long it’ll take us. I jus’ know it won’t be long enough.” That last part was mumbled, but I still caught it. I raised an eyebrow and began to question it, but he kept talking. “Yer one o’ the few people left in this godforsaken town that talks t’me like I’m a human bein’. Maybe it’s cuz ya had a human head once. But I dunno what I’ll do without ya, pardner.”

I felt my stomach flip. He cared about me. I don’t know what it was, but I did feel like I connected to him more than the other NPCs in this universe. I felt allowed to connect with him. Deep down, I knew it was only because we supplied each other something we were deprived of, but I felt lucky to know him. 

“Thanks, Norm,” I borderline whispered. “That means a lot.” 

It was all I could say. I always felt I never said enough in situations like those, but right then, I felt like I had too much to say. But I said none of it. The train was approaching anyway. 

But something had been bothering me. I narrowed my metaphorical eyes at Norm’s American flag cowboy hat before reaching up to lift it from his head. He seemed completely taken aback, even almost offended. I carefully rotated the hat and placed it back on his head. He looked at me like I was completely insane. I shrugged. “It was on backwards.” 

It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn what little skin I could see of Norm’s neck reddened in embarrassment. 

We boarded the train in content silence. As I expected, the train car was completely empty aside from the occasional rat or cockroach. Standard train protocol, y’know. We didn’t sit down, since neither of us trusted the cleanliness of the seats, but we did hold onto the grab rails for safety’s sake. 

“Hey, uh, hey Norm?” I broke the silence with an inquisitive but mildly amused tone. 

Norm hummed in acknowledgement, turning his head to look at me rather than the roach in the corner. 

I stifled a torrent of snickers that threatened to leave my speakers. “...Is-Is your middle name Gaylord?” 

He immediately became furious, sticky note displaying an aggravated expression. His hands gestured wildly. “My middle name ain’t Gaylord! How many times do I need t’ say this t’ people?!” 

Soon enough, the train began approaching the Downtown Dialtown station. I was relieved– the scent of black mold on that train was becoming atrocious. I turned to Norm once more. “Okay, what’s the plan? We haven’t really come up with how exactly to assassinate Mingus.”

The space cowboy paused to think about my question. “We could always use ya as a distraction while I go ‘n pump ‘er full o’ lead.”

I tensed. I’m not good at distractions– I’m far too awkward for that. I would end up accidentally spilling our whole plan to whoever was guarding the Mayor’s office. It seemed Norm picked up on my hesitation and began proposing a different plan. “How about we break in? Reinforced glass can’t be that difficult ‘t break.”

As I was about to bring up an idea of my own, I noticed the train’s movement become rather rickety. That was odd– Dialtown’s trains were straight ass, but the tracks were fine. At least, they were most of the time. It seemed Norm noticed it too. “Y’feel that?”

I nodded slowly, gripping the rail a little harder. “Probably just some turbulence or something. We’ll be fine, we’re almost–”

There was a distant crashing noise. I froze. Norm froze. My voice became more high-pitched. “Okay, yep, not fine. Get your gun out.”

The cowboy was happy to oblige, retrieving his revolver from its holster and holding it at the ready. I had no weapon, but I brandished my boney fists the best I could. Norm gave me a look. I shrugged. He shook his head. I lowered my fists. 

Not long after Norm pulled his gun from the holster, there was yet another crashing noise, followed by a damn near inhuman screech. When did I sign up to be Doom Guy and conquer the souls of the damned? What the shit?

Before I could even process what had happened, a massive hole opened up in the ceiling of the locomotive right above my head. Dust and pieces of shrapnel went scattering about and I found myself screaming as I saw a silhouetted figure rocketing toward me from the ceiling. Norm damn near tackled me out of the way and pushed me back, shielding me with his body. Alright, okay. Keep it together. 

I peered over Norm’s shoulder to find a person standing at a whopping almost five feet tall, clad in a blue hoodie, neon green basketball shorts, and straight-up twinkle toes. He had a purple phone head and seemed completely unphased by the fact that he just slammed through a train car’s roof unharmed.

…Little Billy. 

“Oh, come the fuck on!” I shouted from behind Norm. I don’t think I’ve ever sounded more pissed off. 

“What’s up, bozos?!” Called Little Billy in his nasally, obnoxious ass voice. I noticed the cowboy in front of me tense. 

“Good Lord, not another one o’ those mobster fellers,” he muttered indignantly. “And it’s a youngin’? Those varmints ‘ave reached a new low.”

I opened my mouth to object, but Little Billy beat me to it. “Nuh-uh! I’m not in the mob! I’m something much worse.” 

When Norm glanced back at me, concerned, I sighed heavily while resting my hand on my dial. “Yeah, he’s worse.”

The cowboy leaned in to whisper to me, “But he’s jus’ a kid.”

Little Billy interjected, somehow hearing Norm despite his whispering. “Yeah! I’m a kid! That means I can get away with all kinds of absolutely diabolical shit!” 

Norm’s sticky-note jaw dropped and he turned to face Little Billy once again. “Who taught y’that kind o’ language?” 

The child jutted a thumb toward his chest. “Me, duh! I came up with most of this ‘language,’ bozo!”

Norm shook his head. “Good Lord, what ‘as this world come t’?”

“But anyway, we got bigger fish to fry!” Billy exclaimed, kicking aside a fallen piece of shrapnel. I flinched as it sailed past Norm and I and slammed into the wall of the train. Speaking of, it was steadily slowing down– just a few more seconds and we could book it. 

I raised my hand and asked “Hey, Little Billy, how did Mingus figure out what we were doing?

Billy shrugged. “Cameras.” The child continued, “I kinda suspected you two would be able to deal with Shooty and Stabby. They’re dumbasses. But me, I have the power to perform an evil monologue.”

As Billy continued yapping, the train finally came to a stop. I nudged Norm. “We have to run. We won’t be able to fight this little shit, not even with a gun. He’s probably rigged this whole car with explosives.” 

Norm looked at me skeptically and mumbled back to me, saying “I believe ya. I ain’t shootin’ a kid anyway.” He slowly holstered his revolver. 

I moved to bolt out of there, but I noticed that the doors hadn’t opened automatically like they were supposed to. I hurriedly turned to Billy and interrupted his villain monologue. “What the fuck did you do to the doors, you little shit?!”

He halted his yapping and sagged. “I glued ‘em together with silly string, bozos! No escape for you!” 

There was a brief moment of awkward silence as Norm retrieved his revolver from its holster, slowly aimed it toward the window on the sliding door, and cocked it. Billy looked at the gun, then at Norm, then at me. I stepped out of the line of fire. 

Norm fired at the window, cracking it enough for me to elbow the hell out of it and shatter it completely. Thank phone-christ for my long sleeves, because I definitely would have had some glass shards in my elbow otherwise. Norm ran up to me and assisted me in climbing out of the window, all while Billy watched in silence. 

Soon enough, we had made it out of the train car and were booking it toward the stairs out of the station. I glanced over my shoulder to find Billy following at a leisurely pace. Why was that more menacing than it would be if he were sprinting after us?! 

“Norm, jesus christ, we gotta find a place to hide or something! It’s only a matter of time until he starts hurling grenades at us!” I cried in a winded voice. 

“Grenades? How did this kid git ‘is ‘ands on grenades?” Norm called back. 

“I dunno, man, it’s Little Billy! He’s an enigma!” 

That was all I said before we reached the stairs, sprinting up them as best as we could. The streets of Downtown Dialtown weren’t as empty as Uptown’s, but still rather barren nonetheless. It was mostly occupied by hookers and homeless people. 

I honestly had no idea where I was going. I did frequent Downtown more than I did Uptown, but my mind was fogged by adrenaline and I wound up turning into a random alley. I skidded to a stop in front of a dumpster, getting an excellent idea. “Norm, get in the dumpster.”

Norm made a disgusted face. “...What?”

I lifted the lid of the dumpster and gestured for him to climb inside. I reasoned in a sing-song voice “Good place to hiiiide.”

Making violently confused gestures with his hands, Norm approached the dumpster and placed his hands on its rim before hoisting himself up and inside. I heard his body thud when it made contact with the bottom of the dumpster and took it as a sign that the container was mostly empty. 

I mimicked his motions, giving the alley a once-over with my optical sensors just to make sure Billy didn’t see us climb inside. Then I pulled myself into the container. Once inside, I knelt and pulled the lid closed. I let out a sigh of relief, mostly unphased by the scent of garbage and other such substances. “Okay. I guess we just hang out in here until we figure he’s gone.”

Norm only nodded. I didn’t know how long we would be here. I noticed a fearful energy filling the air, and it was already becoming stifling.

[portraitmypet]

Getting Your Dog or Cat Ready For Their Portrait

Train Your Pet

If you're going to have your dog or cat professionally photographed, it's important that they feel comfortable and happy in front of the camera. The two most important things to do are:

Train Your Pet

Ask a Professional Pet Trainer for Advice

Tip 1: Get your pet active

To get your pet ready for their portrait, you should get them active. Exercise will help them be more relaxed and comfortable when being photographed.

Dogs: Dogs can be walked, played with in the backyard or taken to a dog park. Cats: Cats can be played with using toys such as feather wands or laser pointers.

Tip 2: Speak with a professional trainer

You may find that a professional trainer is the best place to start. Many dog and cat trainers also specialize in helping animals overcome their fear of the camera, so they are familiar with what it takes to get your pet comfortable enough with the process. You should ask them if they have experience working with dogs and cats specifically, as well as any breed-specific issues you should be aware of (for example, many dogs with short snouts are not comfortable wearing head halters). Additionally, these professionals will be able to provide advice on how best to prepare your pet for their portrait session. Be sure to also ask for references from satisfied customers!

Tip 3: Get comfortable with the camera

It’s important for your pet to be comfortable around the camera before the portrait session. It's a lot easier for them to get used to it if they're familiar with the camera before you bring it out on your photo shoot day.

A good way to get your pet used to the camera is by having them sit in front of it and look at it while you take some photos, then reward them afterward with a treat or something else they like. This will help train them not only that sitting still is fun, but also that looking at the camera won't hurt their eyes!

Cuteness Overload Tips

Cuteness overload is a real thing and can be detrimental to your pet's health, so make sure you're prepared for the moment by keeping treats close by.

Have fun with posing your pet in cute positions. You could ask them to look into the camera, but I prefer letting them express their personality in whatever way they choose.

If you're taking a photo of more than one dog or cat, make sure each animal is getting equal time in front of the camera!

Practice Makes Perfect!

Practice makes perfect! It's a cliché, but it's true. If you want your pet to look at home in front of the camera, you'll need to practice with them before the shoot. Practice is especially important if your pet has never been in front of a camera before.

Here are some tips for getting your dog or cat ready for their portrait:

Practice With Your Pet Before The Photo Shoot

Practice taking photos of your pets when they're relaxed and comfortable around you. Familiarize yourself with how well they hold a pose so that when it comes time for their portrait shoot, they'll be more likely to hold still throughout the session instead of being distracted by something outside or behind the camera lens.

Practice With A Friend Or Family Member

Next time someone visits who has an animal (or even better—a new baby), ask them if they'd mind posing with their pet while you snap away! This gives you lots of opportunities to work on various scenarios—from outdoorsy shots with grass and trees as backdrops, to more intimate portraits featuring only one subject peeking out from behind another person's shoulder as he looks off into space dreamily...you get the picture.* * * * *

Stay calm, train your pet and practice to get the best portrait.

Practice with a camera around your pet

The first step to getting the best portrait of your dog or cat is to get them comfortable with being in front of the camera. The more relaxed your pet, the better the shot will turn out! This can be done by using practice techniques that you can use at home. When taking photos of your pets, you should take many pictures so that you have some great ones to choose from when making a final selection. It’s important to find something special about each image and remember that all dogs are different, so there isn’t one ‘right way’ to photograph every dog out there!

[vampiregokudera]

Day 10 of limetober - Teeth

It was 'bring your little brother to work' day.

Wally was less than stoked and Damian is very protective.

[nim-lock]

Hey nim quick possibly loaded question:

What did you study to get better at anatomy? I know a lot of different artists out there say to study bodies and poses as well as art that you enjoy…but I feel like it’s not adequate. I’ve always enjoyed your human pose drawings and the bobadin drawings of yours to a ridiculous extent, so I thought you would be the person to ask.

Thank you for your help! I hope you enjoy the rest of your day/evening, and please say hi to the shrimp for everyone (*´∀｀*)

To preface, you are witnessing the current iteration of a language I’ve been building for years. 

The other folks aren't wrong. Perhaps your dissatisfaction is in the perceived enormity of the task. There is no secret shortcut, but perhaps there are different ways to think about the journey. 

Now, everyone approaches art in a different way, for different reasons. To keep the language analogy going, some people learn enough to google translate their way through a trip to another country, some think it’s fun to roll their R’s, some just happened to move here & are figuring it out as they go, still others need to be fluent for work purposes—the potential diversity is limitless. What makes each individual voice interesting however, are the little details about themselves & that which they hold dear that naturally appear in the process of translating the world into the words, tone, and sentence structure people have. 

Anatomy is one part of it. Like all “rules” around art and language, you learn enough to know what you’re doing, so you can then play and expand and mess things up with intention. 

If I were to give general advice on shit to do:

Find a thing to care about. It’s much more enjoyable if you’re able to be interested in something, ANYTHING, that’s tangentially related to the thing you have to learn

Draw real people who happen to be physically in front of you, because all those books and techniques are cool and everything, but real bodies are all different, and generally tend to deviate from the tutorials.

More resources [post re: timed gestures online] [post 2 re: sketchfab]

[Quick note on how I study (esp from tutorials): copy the diagrams in the books, maybe write down 3 things that you noticed from them that you didn’t know before, translate those ideas into application. Most often when I use ref, I have An Idea already in mind of some fictional character situation, and I double-check reference to make sure I’m not far off the mark.]

Morpho book on fat and skin folds The other morpho books are also very good

Andrew Loomis books (Figure drawing for all it’s worth is a good starting point), you can find PDFs online free

Foreshortening with coil technique video 

Going on a dive on youtube for various ways people construct bodies; you may find a way that works for you, or a piece of a thing that you’ll integrate into your own working knowledge

Fixate real hard on some characters who happen to be human, because ho boi fun fucking shit to follow it down the rabbithole. Even now, I am finding new details on Boba Fett that I never noticed before. 

-- At the end of the day, forcing yourself to learn a thing will only make it less enjoyable, so if the goal is “Get better at [Skill]”, the way to get there is to trick yourself into finding things you like on the way to figuring it out. People are just more complicated plants, sometimes we gotta run circles around our brains to sneak something in there. 

Also, to manage expectations, it’s not about “Getting Good™ Immediately”, but “to observe and be able to describe one thing better, one piece at a time.” Every single thing in your life, including all the times you aren’t doing art, will bring added depth to your work. Take a moment, look at the sky, flex your hands, shove your face into a cat.... 

Thank you for your kind words, the shrimp are doing well.

A one-person circlejerk under the cut 

Hrmmmm how I got here myself :V 

A) a shit ton of fixating

B) a childhood of “ehehe cartoon drawings”, 2013-2018 of concentrated effort to study and Get Better, and 2018-current day of mulling things over and adding a few pinches of spices

Also I went to art school, that’s a giant factor. BFA in Communications Design from Pratt Institute.

If it helps you quantify anything, know that I am currently on my 23rd sketchbook? Sketchbook 1 was started ~2013

I was the sort of bastard who found diagrams FASCINATING.

Very few of my sketchbook pages were assigned schoolwork; I just did that shit on my own because I had an unhealthy existential dread of being unemployed after school, and I also fucking LOVED learning.

Nothing in here is printed out; I copied things out and studied them, goddamn. I no longer have the patience for this but I’m glad younger!me did.

You can tell I got into Yuri on Ice (above). Those studies are from looking up a youtube video on skating, and pausing the video every few frames to sketch the pose. Also the muscle diagram on the above right is fun because I drew the top black lines part on see-through acetate, which you can flip up. There’s more. There’s so much more. Whatever people see now is the culmination of everything I picked up along the way. 

Honestly I definitely forced my own nose to the grindstone wayyyyy too much in college. Think of the person who skips most social events because they’re too busy working, who's perpetually anxious when out on social gatherings because they could be doing work—that was in no way healthy for me, and I never plan on repeating it. I had “motivational” quotes on post-it notes all around my workspace that said toxicly positive things like “think of all the time you spend consuming other peoples’ work, vs. how much time you spend making your own. Only one of those will make you remembered.” 

However, I can’t be upset at past-me because I absolutely did the best I could with the coping mechanisms I had, and I’m really proud of him for trying this hard and still being ALIVE at the end of the day. 

That’s a page from one of my 2017 sketchbooks; drawing was a stim for me + helped me stay awake in classes, so I’d draw the whole way through. 

All sketchbook images above are from my “concentrated learning” phase of 2014-18. Since then I've lowered my own standards and now it’s about the vibes and not the 100% accuracy. Fuck the accuracy, shapes that real humans are can look “fake” or drawn incorrectly if you translate it into 2D. And sometimes it’s some visual prejudice you didn’t realize you had, due to the media you grew up seeing. Maybe some pieces have fucked up anatomy, but I’m not hung up about it (just add a lump when unsure). But yes, this is definitely “keep in mind I have thousands of studies under my belt and thus even if I’m not actively thinking about it, I’ve osmosis-ed enough from the stuff I’ve done previously to make something look like it’s got convincing shapes”. It also doesn’t come out great All The Time! That’s life. You can get here also; just take it in bite-sized chunks, and give yourself plenty of time to rest and go back into your own comfort zone. 

I am not trying to make anyone demoralized; this is simply the path I took myself. Sometimes, even if you’ve barely taken three steps, it’s nice to encourage yourself and be proud of making it this far. 

If you’'re still here for some fucking reason, here’s a shrimp reward. 

--

The art I am often most drawn to are the ones that tell me something new, often about something familiar. “That’s a line I never thought of using to describe the ears”, “That’s an application of color and texture that I would have never thought of myself but makes SO MUCH SENSE” etc. 

I too, have a long ways to go. The rest of my life actually! And what a wild journey that shall be. 

Well wishes on your own. 

-- Reference Tag | Tip Jar

[meat--grindr]

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

[little-mad]

A Seat at the Table Pt. 1

~ Prologue Story ~

~ Part 2 ~

Guess who's baaack? Yup, it's Gavin and Rael, ready for another lil adventure. This one is gonna be shorter than Downsides of Thievery, but I have several little pieces planned for this universe so don't worry, these lads aren't going anywhere.

Gavin just wanted to sleep in. Considering he had been...let’s say “self employed” ever since graduating high school, he was unaccustomed to being dragged out of bed at an unholy hour. The past two mornings had been the same way, but somehow he’d managed to scrape himself out of bed. This time however, his body seemed to be holding a protest.

“You need to get up,” a familiar voice called, the same voice that had already urged Gavin awake a couple minutes ago.

The only response Gavin offered was burying his head deeper into the stunningly plush handkerchief that served as his makeshift sheets.

There was a pause, then suddenly he felt a gust of warm air roll over his back. “If you don’t get up on your own, I’m going to have to make you,” the voice was much closer now, in fact it sounded as though the speaker was only a few inches above Gavin. A shiver ran across his spine, but still his tired brain refused to signal any action from the body. The only thing he did manage to do was shoot back an irritable groan.

The hot breath remained for a moment before disappearing. “Good, maybe he’s leaving me alo--” The blanket that had been protecting Gavin from the early morning chill was suddenly ripped away. Before he could even let out a complaint, a firm pressure took hold of either side of his waist.

A less than dignified yelp slipped out of Gavin’s mouth as he was effortlessly snatched out of his bed and lifted up into the air. He didn’t need to turn around to know what had happened, even in his groggy state he could put together the pieces. “What the hell, dude?!” he yelled as he squirmed angrily.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” came Rael’s response as he rotated Gavin around so he was now dangling facing towards him.

Unlike Gavin, the teal-eyed alteon looked perfectly content being up at the asscrack of dawn. He was already dressed in his uniform, and his long black hair was neatly tied back in its usual style. He looked down at Gavin with an amused smirk on his lips, as well as a mischievous glint in his eyes that Gavin couldn’t help but feel responsible for encouraging.

Gavin scowled. “Put me down, Rael,” he ordered with as much authority as an action figure sized person could muster.

Rael’s grin widened, making him look alarmingly like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. “If you insist.” A sharp gasp got caught in Gavin’s throat as the hand holding him abruptly lurched into motion. The last thing he saw was a swath of tan before he was unceremoniously plopped down on the unidentified surface.

Scrambling to his feet, Gavin whipped around to try and make sense of where he’d been placed. It only took a moment before he realized, and when he did his face instantly began to flush red. “I didn’t mean on your lap!” he hissed, his cheeks now a bright red color as a result of being deposited on Rael’s left thigh.

There were several places that Gavin didn’t much like to be due to the fact that being there made him feel like a giant’s pet. On Rael’s lap was a big one. Other ones included being cradled in hands or set on a chest--which Rael had actually done the other day without seeming to realize how embarrassing it would be for the human.

Rael gave a small snicker, something that a couple days ago would have sounded foreign coming from the Imperial Guardsman. “Consider it punishment for not getting up the first, or second time I told you to,” he remarked, looking down at Gavin with unconcealed mirth.

Rather than try to argue, Gavin just glared up at his...mentor? Was that the right word? Parole officer was the closest thing he could think of that fit properly, but it didn’t really fit in with the medieval vibe of the alteon dimension. “Master” was maybe a better term, but Gavin would be damned if he ever referred to Rael as “master.”

Thankfully Gavin didn’t have to suffer in Rael’s lap for long, because a moment later the giant reached down and carefully scooped the human back up.

It was hard to believe how much less skittish Gavin had become about being around Rael’s hands. Over the past couple days they’d made a surprising amount of progress. That wasn’t to say Gavin’s heart rate didn’t pick up every time those oversized appendages came near him, but at least he didn’t have the urge to run for the hills anymore.

Gavin was only in transit for a short moment before being deposited back on the bedside table where his improvised bed resided. Until the palace craftsmen completed the miniature furniture set that the Emperor had commissioned, Rael had provided Gavin with a small wooden crate filled with fabric to sleep in.

Atop the table was also a small pile of clothes. The gray jumpsuit he’d arrived in the alteon dimension in was folded up neatly after having been washed for him. There were also several sets of simple garments that had apparently been painstakingly sewn by giant fingers. The work was certainly impressive, and apparently Gavin could expect even more intricate articles in the future.

“I’m going to get breakfast,” Rael announced, already making his way towards the door. “You’d better be dressed by the time I get back.” He glanced over his shoulder to shoot a warning glare back at Gavin, however the edge was taken off by the slight smile on the man’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” the human replied, waving a dismissive hand.

As soon as the alteon was out the door, Gavin let out a low sigh. “He still doesn’t think I can handle eating in the dining hall,” he muttered to himself as he went about getting dressed.

Ever since Gavin had started out as Rael’s assistant, Rael had insisted upon bringing their meals back to the room rather than joining the rest of the members of the Imperial Guard. At first, Gavin had been grateful. After the Ashryn incident, he had no desire to interact with any more soldiers. However, on the second day he’d begun to wonder why exactly Rael seemed so adamant about it. When he had posed the question to the alteon, he had simply responded with “it’s easier this way.”

Despite what many of the people in Gavin’s life might say, he wasn’t stupid. He knew each and every alteon was a potential danger to him. But everyone in the dining hall would be soldiers--soldiers who were bound by the Emperor’s order that Gavin be protected. Surely he would be perfectly safe there?

“I can’t spend this whole year hiding,” he grumbled. Tying the laces of his sneakers was the final touch on his outfit for the day. The human-sized shoes that were being crafted for him by a cobbler would take some time. He’d wondered why, if alteons had magic, they couldn’t just conjure a pair of shoes. But according to Rael, it didn’t work like that.

Either way, until the shoes were completed, he’d have to stick with the ones he’d arrived in the dimension with. They clashed pretty terribly with the loose fitting cotton tunic and fitted brown trousers, but looking fashionable had fallen pretty low on his list of priorities ever since he got arrested.

With no mirror around, Gavin could only hazard a guess as to what he looked like. He ran his fingers through his frequently disobedient brown locks. He felt pretty confident that his hair was a mess, aside from the fact that it pretty much always was, it had also dried uncombed after bathing the previous night.

Rael had taken Gavin to a massive stone basin to bathe in, and the experience was positively magical for the human. While the basin was intended for washing hands, at Gavin’s size the thing was almost like a small swimming pool! The water had been wonderfully warm and filled with lavender scented bubbles. It had been just the thing Gavin needed to unwind after the whirlwind past couple days he’d endured.

“They have the sausages you like again,” Rael announced as he pushed open the door, balancing an enormous tray of food on one hand.

“So you’re not letting me eat at the big kid table again, huh?” Gavin questioned, ignoring the sausage comment despite the fact that he did in fact like them quite a bit.

A stiff look came across Rael’s face as he snapped the door shut behind him. He said nothing at first, remaining silent as he took a seat on his bed with the food tray on his lap. Gavin began to think the guy wasn’t even going to bother responding until finally, “There’s nothing to gain from doing so.”

Gavin folded his arms over his chest, stepping closer to the edge of the bedside table closest to Rael. He hated when he took on that tone. It was the same tone he’d constantly used when they had first met. Gavin had started to think it was dead and gone, but clearly not.

“There’s nothing to gain from staying in here,” he countered.

Rael pressed his lips tightly together, as if there was something he wanted to say but also didn’t want to at the same time. Finally he blew out a long sigh. “I’ll think about it,” was all he said.

His tone wasn’t exactly promising, but Gavin didn’t want to pick a fight so early in the morning. His brain wasn’t full awake yet so any argument he got into, he’d no doubt lose. So for the time being, he let it go.

[fanartfunart]

Fly Away

Episode 1: Paon Lilas (*Lilac Peacock)

Ao3 Link (If I actually continue this, check my Ao3 of the same name “Fanartfunart”.. Considering how much mental real estate it’s taking up, I probably will.)

An au in which Adrien didn't succeed in trying to 'sneak' into brick and mortar school and therefore also didn't get the Black Cat miraculous..... but he did find a pretty peacock. (It's in his house... I mean....) Ladybug and Féline Sombre (Who uses She/They. Black Cat hero name thanks to @broadwaytheanimatedseries) get some help from the mysterious peacock miraculous holder, but Ladybug isn’t sure he’s 100% doing this for good.

Warnings: Canon typical violence.... Not much else? Tell me if I need to add anything.

A/N because Brick and Mortar schoolers never know that’s what they are: "Brick and Mortar school" is a homeschool/online school method of reference to in-person schools before calling it “in-person” was a thing. I 100% think Adrien would use that phrasing. (if the writers knew it existed...Tho. Idk if there's a French equivalent)

-*-

Adrien knew he shouldn’t be doing this. This was a worse idea than trying to sneak his way into brick and mortar school. He’d only seen it by accident. He wasn’t even doing very good at committing to breaking into his father’s mysterious safe. This was the third time he’d come back down to find out what was behind that painting.... He should really not be doing this. But...a secret compartment behind his mother’s painting was just… too interesting to ignore. He unfurled an umbrella to cover himself from the cameras his father probably had in the room. Inching his way to the painting of his mother. 

...He had had far too much time to think about this. He only had to punch in the code once (his mother’s birthday- frankly, his father really needed a code harder to guess), for the safe to click and unlock.

The contents… were not what he anticipated. It looked like a keepsake box, not a super secret compartment. He ghosted a hand over the frame of his mother’s photo, blinking away the lingering sadness. ...A peacock brooch? He picked it up, tumbling it in his hand. It almost hummed with energy. He tilted his head, brow raised.

Footsteps.

Adrien frantically closed the hidden compartment and glancing for a hiding place. The umbrella closed over his head just as he dove for the curtain. That… might bruise. He flattened himself against the windowsill, going on his tip-toes on the barely-there window ledge. 

From the distinct clack of dress shoes on the floor, his father had entered the room. Adrien held his breath, hearing his father’s footsteps come closer. A strange whirr. Then silence. Adrien stood there for a long moment, feeling the edges of the peacock brooch dig into his clenched fist. Heart hammering. But father never called for Natalie, or his bodyguard, or moved, or anything. It was eerily quiet. The umbrella peaked out of the curtain. He popped open the umbrella to find… no one. 

"What?" Adrien whispered to himself. He frowned, and tiptoed out from the window, before racing out of the room, down the hall, and outside. Once safely in the garden, he dropped the umbrella. He slid down into the grass, taking deep breaths. 

The brooch vibrated.

Wait. The brooch vibrated? He opened his hand. He had to shield his face from the burst of light. He opened an eye to see… a tiny… hummingbird? No, it was a peacock. Why is a peacock… floating? And Tiny? And why isn’t he sneezing? Are miniature peacocks hypoallergenic? “What the...”

“Ooooo, hello!” The creature said cheerfully, “Lovely weather isn’t it? Beautiful flowers! Nice to be outdoors for once isn’t it? Are you my new miraculous wielder? You’re so cute! You look almost like…” tears welled up into the miniature peacock’s eyes. Adrien looked around frantically. It kept talking unintelligibly between sobs, gesturing vaguely.

“Are you… okay?”

“Noooooooo.”

“Right. Er-” Adrien frowned, clearly it wasn’t going to make sense if he asked what was wrong. He opted for distraction. “Do… you want something to eat?”

“Oh sure!” The tiny peacock’s tears cleared up immediately.

Adrien blinked at the sudden change in mood and nodded “Let’s… Let’s go get you something to eat… I guess. Er, what are you?”

"Oh I'm Duusu, a kwami, I can grant the power to hone emotions into constructs."

He tilted his head. The image of Ladybug summoning her Lucky Charm came to mind. "Like… a superhero? How?”

"Well you are transformed by a magic phrase, and once transformed, you can create a sentimonster out of vibrant emotions. Whoever holds the Amok, the item imbued with power, can control the sentimonster."

“Oh, cool!”

"It is! Do you have any mangoes? I love mango."

“We’ll see.” Adrien glanced at the peacock brooch and stuffed it into his pocket. He looked back at the door inside, then Duusu. “Actually, can you… hide? Just for now-”

“Oh yes! Don’t worry! I know the Kwami and our wielder's identities are a secret.” The kwami zipped into Adrien’s over-shirt inner pocket and settled there. It felt… almost natural. He smiled a bit to himself and went to find out if they had some good fruit for the tiny peacock. 

-

The TV played in the background while Duusu had another sudden breakdown about… something. Adrien still wasn’t sure what. He was starting to feel very out of his depth. 

“Duusu.... Duusu. D- Duusu, do you want to talk about it?” There was a pause before the tears flowed even harder. Adrien was reminded of a sprinkler.

His eyes were pulled to the TV, with a flash of red and black blurring on the screen. Followed by an Akuma. Ladybug and Féline Sombre. He glanced at the Kwami. “Duusu… you mentioned you can give me powers, right?”

“Mhm! You just have to say ‘Spread my feathers.’”

“Alright! Duusu-”

“OH! Wait I didn’t-”

“Spread my feathers!” The transformation felt so natural, like he was made to do this. He struck a pose and smiled behind the fan that materialized in his hand. “Alright, let’s go help Ladybug and Féline Sombre.”

He didn’t expect to start… feeling, seeing emotions. Although he supposed that made sense for the power set. They were everywhere- it was like being dropped into the deep end of a pool, surrounded and covered. Fear, worry, frustration, annoyance, determination. Stronger emotions felt… bigger, somehow. The world was full of colors and feelings he’d never expected. He lept across rooftops, feeling like he was flying. His own elation from the truest sense of freedom he’s ever had in… ever; a bright vibrant bubble. He stumbled to a stop as he spotted Ladybug.

Ladybug was determined… and scared? He didn’t expect that from Paris’s hero. She kept looking around, searching for a plan. The redhead cat hero dove in from above and smacked the Akuma with their baton. Her baton was then immediately captured and swallowed by the plants under the Akuma’s control. Féline Sombe pulled desperately before eventually giving up and vaulting towards Ladybug. She was scared too, he noticed, and frustrated.

The Akumatized person was angry. So so angry it was overwhelming. He almost couldn’t see the person behind their anger. “It’s only a matter of time before Chloé Bourgeois and the litterers of Paris pay!” The plant-covered Akuma cackled. 

Chloe?! Well that’s not good. One of his only friends is in danger?

“Bonzaniac is just gonna grow bigger if they go anywhere near the Eiffel. We need to prune this plant before it’s unmanageable.” Ladybug told Féline Sombre, wrapping her yo-yo around the Akuma’s legs, straining to control Bonzaniac’s movement.

Féline Sombre gestured widely, “If I touch them I’ll just become Cat-nip! How are we supposed to stop them?”

Ladybug called her Lucky Charm, ending up with a polka dotted fishing pole. “How’s that supposed to help?” 

The peacock hero frowned and… Chloé? What’s she doing here? Bonzaniac noticed her as well, it seemed, because the plant growth reached toward her. Chloé’s fear grew rapidly and immediately. He plucked a feather from the fan, imbuing it with power. He dove from his perch on the roof down towards Chloé and Bonzaniac. 

“Fly away, darling amok.” The feather fluttered into Chloé’s necklace. He grabbed a traffic cone and hurled it at the plant tendrils, keeping it from touching Chloé. Féline Sombre quickly took over the idea, batting away the tendrils with a trash can lid. (That made Chloé cringe.) A purplish mask of light illuminated Chloé’s and his own face. “Chloé, I am…er- Paon Lilas. I can sense your fear. Let me help you turn it into safety. I can grant you a construct to protect you.” 

“Then just do it already!” Chloé cried, “Please just don’t let it turn me into a sticky sappy gross tree!” A large golden bear materialized in front of Chloe. It roared and Chloé gasped. “Mr. Cuddles!”

Ladybug was... understandably confused. “What? Another Akuma?” She furrowed her brow and deepened her fighting stance.

“OH! No no no, uh, I’m Paon Lilas." He flourished his fan with a bow. "I’m here to help.”

Ladybug’s suspicion grew, but he didn’t have much of a chance to explain himself as Bonzaniac roared and turned on him, aiming their plant tendrils towards him. “Hey! I’m not really the roosting type of bird!” He dived for cover behind a car, patting himself down, “Come on, is the only weapon I get a fan? Why couldn’t I get a baton or something like that?”

The gold bear attacked Bonzaniac, knocking them down. Bonzaniac grappled the bear in plants, taking the plants away from protecting their back.

Ladybug gasped, "There! They only have so much plant matter! Féline, destroy as much plant matter as you can, Paon, distract Bonzaniac! I'm going Akuma fishing."

The two other heroes nodded. 

"Cataclysm!" Féline Sombre yelled, summoning black destructive energy around their hand. She ducked and weaved towards the center of Bonzaniac's plant mass, jumping out of the way of grasping tendrils. 

Paon Lilas whistled "Hey Bonzaniac, have you heard about Fast Fashion? I use all my outfits that way. Never worn the same shirt twice!"

The Akuma roared "All. That. WASTE!" They focused a massive amount of plant matter towards him. 

"Didn't think that'd work so effectively," he muttered under his breath. He lept out of the way, and back around the bend of the car. The plants wrapped up around the car. He whooped in triamph.

Féline Sombre finally managed to hit Bonzaniac, severely reducing the amount of plants in their control. Ladybug swung the fishing pole and caught a necklace from in the middle of the thicket of plant matter. She crushed it under foot and captured the purple butterfly that fluttered out. 

Mr Cuddly the sentibear sat on the Akuma victim. Paon frowned and glanced at Chloé. The gardener looked dazed and confused.

“Now who do you think you are?” Chloe said, crossing her arms.

The gardener smacked the side of the over large bear. “Wh- you! You littered in my garden! And refused to simply pick it up!”

“So what? That's not my job," Chloe huffed, crossing her arms. The sentibear huffed with her.

Paon snapped his fingers, pulling the amok from the necklace, the sentibear disappearing. Chloe gasped, pouting.

"Mademoiselle Chloe," Paon sighed softly, "How would you feel if someone threw trash into your beautiful hair and refused to help clean it up?" Chloe grabbed her hair, and Paon saw her horror at the concept. "Exactly. That garden takes just as much work, or more, as your hair. I suggest apologizing."

She pouted, "Fine, your garden was pretty or whatever, sorry I messed it up." She flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "There. I apologized."

Féline Sombre and Ladybug chatted in the background. Féline grabbed their baton and with a light salute, she vaulted away. 

Paon's Miraculous beeped. That... meant something right?

"Birdy!" Ladybug called, walking toward him, her own Miraculous beeping. "Where did you get that Miraculous?"

"Oh… um…. Funny story-"

"I'm sorry, but you need to give it to me. It doesn't belong to you."

"What?" Paon took a step back, "Why?" 

"It's been lost. I'm going to take it back to the original owner."

Paon paled. Did Ladybug know his father? Or did his father find the lost miraculous without giving it back? Did his father know what it was? What would happen if his father found out he took it? The bubble of elated freedom popped. "That… sounds like a great, morally right thing to do… but… consider…” He took a soft step back, glancing up to find a path of escape, hands raised surrender. “I can't. Sorry, bye!" Paon ran, leaping up and away.

Ladybug moved to go after him, only for her miraculous to beep again. Sabrina had run in just in time to comfort Chloé, so Ladybug sighed and ran in the opposite direction.

Adrien tripped over himself as he detransformed in a back alley. His legs weak, and head dizzy. "Woah- is that normal?"

Duusu looked up at him with sad eyes. "I meant to tell you. The miraculous is broken... If you continue to use it... it will hurt you."

"... Does it hurt you?"

Duusu thought for a moment. "The transformation? No.... It is nice... to see another use it's power so kindly."

Adrien glanced down. He looked at the broach clipped to his overshirt. The lightness... the freedom. He nodded firmly. Unclipping it from his shirt and instead clipping it in his inside pocket. Hidden. "I'll be careful. Come on, let's get something to eat...” He rubbed his head, “I feel like we both need it."

-

Marinette just barely managed to make it to the bakery before the afternoon rush.

"Marinette! How was school?” Tom called, opening his arms for a hug. She happily took her place in her father’s arms.

"Not great.. Chloé caused another Akuma."

Tom sighed and shook his head, releasing her with a pat on the back. "At least we have Ladybug and Féline Sombre. Come on, if you can't learn in peace at school you can learn some more Dupain-Chang classics!"

Marinette chuckled and nodded, heading over to get ready to work behind the counter.

The door chimed, signaling the entrance of a young blond. She stared at him. He seemed oddly familiar. She started picturing him against all the blonds she knew, although her brain was still somewhat stuck on the Peacock Miraculous holder…. She really needed to talk to Master Fu about that. 

The boy stumbled. He was just about to faceplant into the counter before Marinette, intending to catch him- shoved him. He fell on his rear instead. 

“OH, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Marinette cried, moving to pull him up to his feet. He was surprisingly light, ohmy and now she just manhandled him like a human doll.

“It’s okay! You saved me from what was probably a worse fate.” He giggled awkwardly, "Thanks... I’ve been.. a bit dizzy today, I guess."

"Oh, I hope you feel better, anything I can do to help?"

"Heh, I was looking for food. Got some, er, fruity stuff?"

"Fruity, fruit. For sure, fruit." Marinette stared at him a bit longer. Finally the images and fashion magazine clippings clicked next to the boy’s face. She gasped "Adrien Agreste! You're Gabriel Agreste's son! He’s my favorite fashion designer!"

He laughed awkwardly. Rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah… That’s… that’s me."

"You probably hear that all the time, sorry! But! Fruit." She walked over to the counter and gestured at the prepared goods. "Macaroons are always good, and there's some a couple of fruit Eclairs, brioche and jam-"

He smiled somewhat stiffly, before frowning at the eclairs. He made a subtle 'come here' gesture. Marinette looked down at the eclairs herself, unsure what exactly made him frown.

He sighed, adjusting his overshirt. (Duusu settled nicely into the pocket again, glad to have been able to choose his treat.) "I think one of those is good.... Er... actually, I think two." 

He handed her the money, and she handed him the pastries. "Thank you."

She smiled, "Thank you! Come again soon. Just try not to trip, that's usually my thing."

He laughed. "Actually…” He takes a bite of his eclair, with a smile “I think I will definetly try to come in again."

"Oh! Okay, cool!"

He waved and walked out of the establishment with a small smile.

Tom leaned over as she watched him leave. "Flirting with the customers?"

Marinette gasped dramatically, "NoOo dad no. He's... just a friend."

Adrien leaned against a wall and sighed. Duusu floated up into view, taking a section of eclair. "Ah young love..."

He shook his head, "...She's just a friend..." He gasped, glancing back at the bakery with a smile, "A friend."

-

Marinette frowned, "Wait, Master Fu, do you think he could be working with Hawkmoth?"

"It is a possibility. I wouldn’t be surprised if the butterfly and the peacock had been nearby each other. If you can find out where he found it, it may help us find Hawkmoth.”

“Hm, he didn’t seem like he was with Hawkmoth. He was helpful... And he actually got Chloé to apologize?”  She was still bewildered about that. It wasn’t the best apology ever, but she still actually did it.

“The peacock wields the power of emotion, Peon Lilas will be able to sense emotion. He can very easily use that information to manipulate others into doing things for him. Even something as simple as an apology.”

She frowned, considering, “I think I understand.”

“Be careful, the peacock is not to be underestimated. Make sure you and Féline Sombre are prepared for what he might do next."

She nodded firmly. "I will be.”

-

Gabriel Agreste stared at the paused frame from the newscast on his newest enemy. Emile's painting ajar and missing a vital item. "Natalie... Where is the surveillance footage for this room?"

She silently pulled up the footage, scrolling through to find an umbrella blocking their view of their thief.

Gabriel growled under his breath and stood up. "Time to catch a runaway bird, it seems. See what you can find from the rest of the cameras in and out of the building. If there's anything or anyone out of place, you tell me immediately."

"What will you do sir?" Natalie asked, already scanning through footage on her tablet.

"Someone found and stole the peacock miraculous from right under our noses. I need to find a way to protect my identity and a lure for our heroic peafoul.”

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Magical Thieves AU

In a Gotham where about 40% of the population have some sort or magical ability and only something like 13% have two abilities, Bruce is a street rat with his honourary sister, Selina, and the two are excellent cat burglars, known as the Cat and the Bat. Selina is a Shadow Magic user; she can blend into the shadows as well as bring her shadow to life in extreme circumstances. She is called a Night Stalker, and is not trusted by many of those gifted with Light Arts. Bruce though, if anyone knew what his real abilities were, he would be locked up in the interest of public safety; he is often referred to as simply a Chaos Courtesan, despite not being a Chaos Mage.

Bruce is one of the 13% that has two abilities; the first one alone would have him be monitored for the rest of his life, Technomagic, an ability that allows him access to computer files, all kinds of electrical data, and possess mechanical devices, and those are only the surface of his abilities, but they are enough to warrant the government being worried about him. His other, arguably stronger ability, however, would have Bruce either locked up in a special facility where he never saw another living person ever again, or killed; Blood Magic. An ability that is hard to regulate as the user can literally use their own blood or that of their attackers/victims against them. They can turn a person’s blood into acid so they are eaten away from the inside out, they can track a person as well as those with Animal Magic, and they can supposedly even control people by binding their blood.

Selina and Bruce have been siblings since they were nine-years-old and Selina found Bruce wandering around, looking for something to eat. Bruce’s parents were from feuding families and when they fell in love, they were both disowned, and they became rather good thieves themselves, until the police caught up with them and killed them in a shoot-out. Selina and Bruce have stuck with each other and managed to become two of the most sought after professional thieves around, and they have been saving for the chance to get out of Gotham for the chance of a normal life. They need just one more good payday and they ca leave for good; unfortunately, that opportunity comes in the form of Roland Daggett and Rupert Thorne (Sofia and Theo work as well, I just thought something different). They are offering the pair a huge payout, in return for what others would call a suicide mission; rip-off the King and Queen of Gotham themselves, Oswald Cobblepot and Barbara Kean. Bruce is all for ignoring this job as this is beyond dangerous, but the pair are also offering papers that will identify the pair as harmless, low-level White Magic users; papers that would cost upwards of $50,000 a piece.

Selina talks Bruce into taking the job and they stake out the place to prepare for Gotham’s social event of the year; The King and Queen’s Masquerade Ball. Selina poses as someone called to do a repair job to get access to the house and they learn the layout of the house, particularly the room that holds their prizes; two beautiful rings that identify Oswald and Barbara as the King and Queen. The night of the ball, Selina attends as a low level socialite and Bruce is a waiter, both wearing one of his blood glamors to help add to their anonymity. Soon, however, a hush falls over the crowd as the King and Queen make their entrance with their respective courts. Barbara enters with her consort Tabitha, her botanist, Ivy Pepper, and her two bodyguards, Bridgit Pike and Ecco Valeska.

Then there’s Oswald with his consort, Captain James Gordon of the GCPD, his engineer, Jeremiah Valeska (Ecco’s half brother), his advisor, Jervis Tetch, chemist, Jonathan Crane, his own bodyguards Jerome Valeska and Victor Fries, his informant (and not-so-secret assassin), Victor Zsasz, and his Chief of Staff, Alfred Pennyworth. Each of them have dangerous magical abilities and none were meant to be trifled with but, if Selina and Bruce want that big payday and those papers, then trifle they must. Some time passes and the pair actually find themselves talking to members of the courts; Bridgit hates these things and enjoys talking to those who feel as uncomfortable as she does, and Bruce finds himself saving Jonathan from an embarrassing situation. Still though, once the Ball really gets going, Bruce and Selina break away to the room where the rings are housed and just as they grab the rings, Bruce feels a frisson of unease shoot up his back; they’ve been caught.

The two Courts enter the room, and Oswald reveals he’s actually flattered that Gotham’s infamous Cat and Bat Thieves have not only targeted him, but gotten so far, though he was suspicious when a random repair worker appeared at the house, given that Jeremiah always takes care of such problems. Still, as he’s an admirer of their skills and he’s in such a good mood from the party, all they have to do is put the rings back and tell him who hired them, they can leave peacefully. Bruce and Selina both know, however, if they show up empty handed, let alone give up who hired them, they will be a pair of dead ducks. When Bridgit throws a small fireball at the pair to scare them,  Bruce and Selina show their magic to protect themselves, and now Barbara finds them very interesting, offering them a fair percentage of what they would have made if they pulled off the heist. The pair still refuse to give up so easily as not having to buy those papers themselves, would save a large chunk of their savings.

Things go from bad to worse however when Jim and Alfred notice the blood charms and there’s just something too homey about them not to be handmade, and they realize that one of the pair is a Blood Mage. Once Oswald is informed of this, he’s ecstatic and informs Jerome to test the pair as the psychotic ginger is a chaos mage, and the only thing that can stand up to them are those of Order magic and Blood magic. Thanks to Jerome, they quickly figure out that Bruce is a Chaos Courtesan, and Oswald and Barbara know they need these two in their Courts. Not knowing this, Bruce and Selina make a break for it, which is helped by the fact Bruce managed to get a small sample of everyone’s blood, giving him a slight edge.

The two are about to take the staircase heading to the front door when Ivy manages to trip Selina, sending her careening down the stairs, thankfully only knocking her out. As Bruce reaches the bottom of the stairs to grab Selina, he instead is grabbed by the two Victor’s, Jim, and Jervis, who are quick to hide him in a small alcove as the other guests come to investigate Selina’s scream from her fall. Oswald and Barbara are quick to act as concerned hosts over the ‘poor dear who had a touch too much champagne and lost her balance’, a story corroborated by Bridgit and Ivy. When no one comes forward to claim her, Tabitha is quick to suggest they look after her, so they move her to a secure room.

Oswald meanwhile joins the other males, and Jervis tries to compel the truth from Bruce, but Bruce still has a vial of Jervis’ blood, and smashes it so that he can temporarily be immune to Jervis’ power. Zsasz and Fries however are quick to point out that Selina is very vulnerable at the moment and it wouldn’t be hard to...

Bruce is quick to reveal everything and give the rings back, not willing to let anything happen to Selina. Oswald orders some of his men to go to the meeting spot where Bruce and Selina were to meet Daggett and Thorne and take care of things. Bruce hopes to be able to leave with Selina once she regains consciousness, but Oswald naturally has other ideas;

Oswald: Let an injured kitten and obviously malnourished bat go wondering off into the night?! The ASPCA would have my head on a platter! Not to mention Barbara would have a separate one for my balls.

Jim: She is an avid animal lover, especially when it comes to cats. Same with Tabitha.

Oswald: Yeah, and I do not want that woman coming after me with her whip.

Bruce, starting to struggle between the two Victor’s: I will look after her; she’s survived worse falls than that! We both have!

Oswald: You see?! The kitten and no doubt baby bat, uh, what do you call a baby bat, anyways?

Jervis, enjoying himself: A pup.

Oswald: Thank you, Jervis; a kitten and a pup who are constantly being abused on the streets of Gotham?! Obviously they need someone to look after them! Do you like bats, Victors?

Victor Z: I think they’re adorable.

Victor F: Yeah, and this one is a real cutie.

Bruce: You can’t do this! Selina and I are people, not pets! We can look after ourselves!

Jim: And I’m the Captain of the GCPD, and I don’t think you can!

Alfred appears: Oswald, Ms. Kean has seen to it that her new kitten is properly situated in her new room, and I have prepared one for our bat whenever you’re ready.

Oswald: Thank you Alfred, if you would please? I wonder how much harder it is to train bats than birds?

Victor F: We’ll figure it out; besides, you always did love a challenge.

Bruce tries to cast one last spell, only to feel a sharp pain in his neck, and know no more.

For all those who liked my Underwater Gotham AU, I thank you and hope you’ll like this one just as much. Please leave a comment if you do!

[parmelde]

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday NWarrior! 

I was so happy to write a little TOL fanfic for your birthday! Thank you for sharing your lovely comics and being an awesome person!  

If you haven’t read Temperature of Love go and do that!  It’s so gay and wonderful.  Fic is under the cut. General spoilers for the comic as a whole.  

Summary: Tamara’s birthday is coming up and the boys need to find her a present.  They break some rules, meet someone awesome, and know that they have the best friends in the world!  

“Hey boys,” Inga said, coming over and sitting down next to Brian and Demian at the lunch table.

“Hi Inga!” they chorused.  

“So Tamara’s birthday is coming up and I want to do something really special for her.  I need your help though.” Inga told them.

“Of course!” Demian said, grinning.

“What do you need us to do?” Brian asked.  

Inga grinned and told them of her plan. The boys were on board and couldn’t wait to celebrate Tamara’s birthday.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Okay, I’m not saying we should panic, I’m just saying Tamara’s birthday is coming up and we have no gift for her.” Demian said as they cuddled in bed that night after Inga talked to them.

“Maybe we can make her something?” Brian suggested.

“Except I’m horrible at making things, you know this.” Demian reminded him.

“I could make something from both of us?�� Brian suggested again.

“Thank you for the offer honey, but I really feel like I need to get her something as well. Not just piggy back off of you and Igna.  I mean she’s one of my best friends and always helping me out.  I just want to do something for her for once that will make her happy.” Demian explained with a sigh.

“We’ll think of something!” Brian said.  “What does Tamara like?”

“Inga,” Demian laughed.  

“What about those cat shirts she always wears?” Brian suggested.  “You could get her one of those?”

“How though? We’re here at the academy.  The shirts are out in the world at the mall.” Demian hung his head in defeat.  

“Too bad we don’t have teleportation like Tamara, we could just sneak out and buy one and then come back.” Brian agreed.

“We might not have teleportation, but we can still sneak out.” Demian said, lifting his head and waving his phone that was lit up with a call from his mom.  Brian looked at him in confusion, but before he could ask Demian had answered the phone. “Hi mom!  I’m good. Brian and I are just hanging out. Actually, I have a favor to ask.”

********

“I cannot believe that you had your mom break us out of the academy!” Brian whispered as they snuck through the halls.  

“Shhh.” Demian said, bringing a finger in front of his lips to remind Brian they needed to be quiet as they were sneaking out of the academy.  Demian looked around the corner, the coast was clear. He hurried to a back door that he knew wasn’t locked and alarmed.  He quietly opened it and then slid outside, Brian close behind him. He made sure to leave the door partly opened so they could sneak back in.  There was a black car waiting across the street from them.  They quickly ran across the street and slid into the back seat of the car.  

“Hi mom!” Demian said as the car smoothly pulled away from the curb and down the street.  

“Hi boys! How are you doing?” Demian’s mom asked, grinning at them in the rearview mirror.  

“My heart is racing!” Brian admitted, holding tight to Demian’s hand.  

“Don’t worry Brian, we won’t get caught.” Demian reassured him, wrapping an arm around Brian. His heart was indeed racing. Demian usually enjoyed when Brian’s heart raced, at night when they were in bed, but not in this situation.  

“It will be okay Brian.” Demian’s mom said from the front seat.  “Breaking out of the academy is partly a tradition.  All though not as much of one anymore as it used to be.  My girlfriends could tell you stories of the things they got up to!” 

Brian took a steadying breath and snuggled more into Demian’s side.  It would be fine. Demian would be with him the whole time so his power would be fine. He was much better at it now.  Especially since he and Demian had talked and worked things out.  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the time they got to the mall Brian’s heart had stopped racing at least a little bit.  Of course now they were going to be at the mall with a bunch of people, strangers.  Brian hadn’t been out in the “real world” in months now.  He took a deep breath as Demian’s mom parked the car and they got out and walked into the mall.  

“All right, let’s meet at the food court in an hour, sound good?” Demian’s mom asked. The boys nodded and waved goodbye as she went to do some shopping of her own.  

Brian smiled as Demian took his hand and led him to the tshirt store. They walked around looking at all the funny tshirts that were on the walls. There were a few that were okay, but none that really fit Tamara.  Sighing, they left not buying anything just yet.  

“I think there is another store on the other side of the mall that has some of the comics and things Tamara likes.” Demian said crossing over to look at the mall map.  “I just don’t remember what it’s called.”

“I don’t think the map will help us much then.” Brian said, titing his head to read the writing.  

“No, but I wanted to see where the bookstore was.  They have comics sometimes too.” Demian pointed to the map.  

“All right, then that’s where we should go!” Brian agreed.

They headed off in the direction of the bookstore weaving their way in between people and kiosk shops.  

“Brian look!” Demian said, coming to a sudden stop causing Brian to bump into him a little bit. Brian wrapped an arm around Demian and looked to where he was pointing. There was a kiosk with shirts and posters and an airbrush artist. They were painting a family that was sitting and posing. 

“Oh, do you want to get a painting?” Brian asked.

“No, well I mean at some point it would be fun, but look at the characters they have on some of the posters. That’s Tamara’s favorite game!” Demian walked over to the poster in question.  

“Oh you’re right!  That would be the perfect present!” Brian agreed. 

“I don’t remember these characters though, they look different.” Demian frowned in puzzlement.  

“That’s because they’re not from the game.” The artist said, coming over to talk to them. They had finished the family portrait. “I draw people in that style as though they were characters in the game.”  The artist explained.  

“Can you draw based on a picture, or do you need the people to be here in person?” Demian asked.

“A picture is fine.” the artist replied.  

Demian pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos.  “This one?” he asked showing the artist the picture.  

“Oh, for sure, that is adorable! I’m NWarrior, they/them pronouns.” the artist introduced themselves.  

“I’m Demian, he/him, and this is my boyfriend Brian, he/him pronouns as well.”

“Nice to meet you boys!” NWarrior said.  “I have to say, Brian, I love your mascara.” 

“Oh! Thank you!” Brian blushed a little bit and Demian gave him a big smile and squeezed his hand.  

“Yes, he looks very good in mascara.” Demian gave Brian a small kiss on the cheek.

“Stop! You’re making me blush!” Brian gently pushed him away.  

“Oh my gosh, you two are just too adorable!” NWarrior grinned at them.  “So, who do you want me to draw?”

“This is our best friend, Tamara.” Demian said, showing them the picture again.  “It’s Tamara’s birthday coming up and she is always helping us and getting things for us and thinking of fun things for us to do. So we want to get her a present that she will love and thank her for all that she does as our friend.” Demain explained. 

“This is one of her favorite game series, so a picture of her as a character in that game will be the perfect gift!” Brian said.

“I love that! Do you want to watch me paint it?  If not, you can send the reference picture to my phone and pick up the painting in a few hours.” NWarrior offered.  

“That sounds good, we were also hoping to go to the bookstore and maybe get her a few comics too.” Demian said, opening his phone to get NWarrior’s number and send them the picture.  

They quickly exchanged numbers and made sure NWarrior had some good pictures for reference and then waved goodbye to continue on the way to the bookstore.  

They wandered through the shelves of books, looking for themselves as well as Tamara and Inga.  They were able to find some good books and checked out. 

“We need to go meet mom at the food court.” Demian said, checking the time.  

“Oh that’s good, because I’m hungry!” Brian laughed.

They made their way to the food court and found Demian’s mom. They got food and told his mom about the present they were getting Tamara and showed her some of the comics they had gotten as well. “This is all so sweet!  You boys are going to make Tamara’s day!” Demian’s mom said, smiling at them.

“We might even be better than Inga’s gift!” Demian joked.

“I don’t know, Inga’s got a pretty good one too.” Brian reminded him.  

“Well, I’m sure Tamara will appreciate and love all of them!” Demian’s mom said.  

“Oh, my phone!” Demian said as he felt it vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the message on the screen.  “Oh! NWarrior’s finished the painting!” 

“Let’s go pick it up!” Brian jumped up in excitement.  

The three quickly cleaned off their table and headed back across the mall to NWarrior’s kiosk.  

The boys waved and practically ran over to the kiosk once it was in sight.  NWarrior grinned at them.  “I’m glad you are so excited! Ready?” the boys nodded.  NWarrior turned around the poster they had painted.  The squeals and yells of excitement from the boys caused a few heads to turn.  

“It’s perfect!” They said. 

“I’m so glad that you like it!” NWarrior handed it over to Brian while Demian got his wallet out to pay.  

“We love it and Tamara will love it too.” Brian said.

“Yea, our screams will be nothing compared to hers.” Demian grinned, giving NWarrior a large tip for the wonderful painting.  

“Oh my, you all are so kind and generous.” NWarrior said as they received the payment and tip.  “I actually have a little something extra here for you two.” NWarrior handed over a small painting of Brian and Demian in a heart shape. “I had some extra time and you two were just too adorable to not draw!”  

Brian and Demian once again squealed and cheered very loudly.  “Can I give you a hug?” Demian asked. 

“Yes, please can we hug you?” Brian asked.

“Yes!” NWarrior replied and all three of them wrapped their arms around each other.  

“Okay, you are our artist from now on.  Anytime we want art done, we’re going to ask you.  Okay?” Demian asked.

“Repeat customers are a dream!” NWarrior replied.  

“Well we have your number so we will be in touch.” Demian waved his phone in the air. “Thank you so so much for all of your wonderful lovely work! You are truly amazing!”

Brian nodded in agreement.  “Yes, thank you for being so awesome!”

They said goodbye and made their way back to the car with Demian’s mom.  The whole car ride back they were both practically vibrating with excitement.  “I’m texting Inga to make sure she’s still distracting Tamara so we can sneak back in and hide the presents.” Demian said.

“Good idea, we also should probably try to calm down some.  I feel like I’m going to just blurt out everything the moment I see Tamara.” Brian said, trying to take a deep breath.  

Demian’s mom pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car.  They gave her quick hugs and thanked her for taking them to the mall and then quickly snuck back in through the door they had left propped open. They managed to not run into anyone and make it back to their room safe. They hid the presents and then collapsed onto the bed.  

“All of a sudden I’m exhausted.” Brian said, cuddling next to Demian.  

“Sneaking out and hiding things is tiring!” Demian agreed, yawning.  

In the next minute both of them were asleep.  

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Happy Birthday To You!” Demian, Brian, and Inga finished singing.  

Tamara grinned. “Thank you!” She took a deep breath and blew out the candles. Tamara got the first slice of cake and then Inga gave the boys each a piece before getting one for herself.  They all enjoyed the cake and ice cream.  

“All right, present time!” Demian said as they finished their last bites.  

“Yay! Presents!” Tamara clapped her hands in excitement.  

“Open these first.” Brian said, handing her a rectangular package.  

Tamara did so eagerly and grinned as she saw the comics.  “Ohhh!  These are the new series!  How did you get these?”

“We may have gone on a little adventure.” Demian winked at her.  

“Ohh! I want to hear that story!” Tamara exclaimed.

“There’s not much to tell, and we’re not as good as you and Inga at telling stories.” Brian shrugged. 

“Open this one next.” Demian said, handing over another rectangular package, this one a lot thinner.  

Tamara opened it and stared for a moment in silence to fully comprehend the picture, and then she screamed.  “OH MY GOD! AHHH!! OH MY GOD IT’S ME! AS A CHARACTER FROM MY FAVORITE GAME!  OH MY GOD! I’M A CAT!!!! A CAT FROM MY FAVORITE GAME! AHHHH OH MY GOD!!!” She continued to scream a combination of words and incoherent noises for the next five minutes before she finally calmed down enough to listen to Brian and Demian tell of how they snuck out of the mall and met a great artist and had them draw her for her birthday.  

“You are always doing so much for us, getting us things, taking us places, coming up with ideas of things for us to do, we wanted to let you know how much we love and appreciate you.” Demian explained.

“Yes, you are truly a wonderful friend Tamara and we wanted you to have a great birthday!” Brian added.

“Oh you guys!” Tamara said and pulled both of them into a hug.  Inga came around from behind and lifted them all up.  “I have the best friends in the world!” Tamara declared.  

Inga put them down and they let go of each other. Tamara’s smile was from ear to ear.  “Seriously, I love this so much.  I can’t wait to hang it up in my room!”  

“We also have the artists number so if we want other art we can ask them for future paintings. They’re very talented and nice and even drew an extra little picture of us.” Demian told Tamara.  

“Oh! Yay! I can’t wait to have them do another picture of Inga and I!” Tamara turned to find her girlfriend and got a second surprise of the day.  

Inga was standing in a field of flowers in a flowing robe.  “Holy buckets! How did you get all the flowers inside?!” Tamara asked. “Oh my god my girlfriend is so hot!” she said, somewhat quieter.  Tamara quickly made her way over to Inga.  

“Happy birthday my darling!” Inga said as she gave Tamara a hug and a kiss.  “You know my family runs a flower shop, so it just took a little work to have them set up a field of flowers for us to enjoy. You are always so kind and take us to so many wonderful places. I wanted to take you someplace this time.” 

“I know I said it before but I’ll say it again, best friends and girlfriends ever!” Tamara yelled and then kissed Inga.  

“And that’s our cue to leave!” Demian said heading towards the door with Brian.  

“Happy Birthday Tamara!” They said as they waved goodbye to the two kissing girls.

“Well, that was a very nice party and I’m glad Tamara was happy.” Demian said as they went back down the hall to their room.  

Brian nodded.  “It was worth it to see her face and reactions, I’m so glad we could make her feel happy and appreciated.” 

“We do have good friends, don’t we?” Demian said as they snuggled into bed.

“The best.” Brian agreed, giving him a kiss and smiling.  

They were great friends and he was so happy to have them in his life.

Fin

I hope you liked it! Thank you again for all of your lovely art and comics!  <3

[themurphyzone]

PatB: Snowball Ep Talk

You know, I really do love the episode Snowball (my personal favorite AKOM episode) but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here much, and if I did it’s probably really only because of the flashback sequence. 

Okay so all looks good so far. Chain letter scheme and superstition, a standard introduction to Brain’s latest plot of world domination. All looks good. Plus I just like this shot of Pinky. Don’t mind me, just starting off light here with a smushed Pinky. 

I just like Pinky’s pose here. He’s so cute. 

You will bow before Troz.

“I met a Snowball today! Right here in the lab!” -Pinky

You know, I just find the implications of this line hysterical. This means that Snowball was in the lab that day, waiting for the moment to strike, and he definitely pushed his stolen chain letter through the mail slot. 

And then he lets Pinky see him, and no it’s not just a passing glance either cause Pinky specifically describes a tattoo with an A and a circle and points to his leg. Which means Snowball deliberately lifted the fur on his leg and showed his tattoo to Pinky. 

Like, wow. 

“It means, Pinky, that evil lurks among us. By the name of Snowball! SNOWBALLLLLLLL!” -Brain 

Talk about a bad breakup. *Alexa play Bad Blood*

Personally I think one of the interesting visual cues is that Snowball purposely plants himself into the mice’s space. There’s a lot of that in this episode. He knows how to rile up Brain and hit him where it hurts, namely through Pinky. 

Brain values his personal space, and he values a sense of control. When Snowball invades that space, Brain loses control, and his anger can lead him to make some very ill-informed decisions. Which is exactly what Snowball aims for. 

“You think Pinky is an asset?” 

“Anything I can take from you is an asset.”

Ah yes, Snowball’s mission statement. Crush everything Brain has into dust. 

The flashback sequence. Dear God this flashback sequence. They were both so cute! 

You know, it’s really sad that a younger Brain acted more like Pinky. Making silly faces and trying to get someone to laugh are such Pinky things to do. I know canon is loose but if you consider this flashback taking place shortly after Brain was captured from the wild, then young Brain didn’t gain a grasp on what happened to him until after the gene splicer.  

Ok but Brain was literally right there when the gene splicer exploded. Imagine having your cranium size dramatically increase, you’re injured, you’ve suddenly gained sentience, and as if all that wasn’t enough, you see the gene splicer explode with your only friend inside. 

Oh, and said friend’s mind was probably damaged in the explosion and now he hates your guts. And though you’re angry with him for his betrayal, some part of you will never stop caring about him. 

Once again, Snowball needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. 

This conversation here establishes Snowball as the perfect third character. He appears only in a handful of eps, but he’s fun to watch and love to hate. Snowball challenges the mice’s relationship. Snowball sees the weak points; the insults, the reliance on each other, and twists them to his advantage. And Pinky even admits he’s hurt by Brain’s insults occasionally, though he still loves being around him. 

“Pinky, the Brain doesn’t care about you. He’s just using you.” 

“No, he’s not.”

It’s really interesting to me how Pinky denies Snowball’s statement, yet his ears go down to show that he’s affected by the idea of being used. Pinky and the Brain may be night and day, but one thing they do have in common is their tendency to deny certain things. Brain with emotions and affection and Pinky with concepts he’d rather not admit the possibility of. 

Coming back to this later. 

Non plot related but Brain is teeny tiny and I love how he just trusts Pinky to catch him

Side note: I apologize if any of these screenshots look weird. It’s an AKOM ep. 

WHY ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT SNEAKING AROUND. 

I just find it hilarious how they clearly run around where Snowball can see and hear them. Like they just shout Snowball’s name in the middle of the room. You’re terrible at being sneaky little mice. Please. 

Those dang boomers and their old timey 90s computers. Technology is ruining boomers. Can’t even hold a conversation anymore cause they keep looking at their screens. 

No touchy! 

Well, it’s awful nice of Snowball to engage in nepotism and offer Brain a position in his administration...and then tempt Pinky with an amusement park when he refuses. 

You really gotta appreciate the complexity of Snowball’s plans. Stealing the chain letter fails->plant seeds of doubt in Pinky’s mind, even if this doesn’t work right off the bat, the idea will still be there-> take over a corporation->impersonate Bill Gates->When the mice show up, offer to co-rule the world on expectations that Brain will refuse->make co-ruler offer to Pinky->wait for Brain to open his big mouth and drive Pinky away. 

All to take everything Brain has. His dignity, Pinky, his meager resources. Like holy Snowball, Batman.  

And then Snowball reveals the amusement park he had specifically built for Pinky. 

And here we have the most heartbreaking line of the ep. If I had the ability video edit I would’ve put the entire line on audio because Brain’s tone is very important here. It’s about 12:38 to 12:57 in the ep if you want to see for yourself. 

“Oh, go ahead, Pinky. I don’t need you. What did you think, I just have you around so I can steal your brilliant ideas and claim them as my own? That I’m just using you, Pinky? Oh yes, I’m using you for your brilliance!” 

First of all, very poor word choice, especially to someone who has trouble understanding sarcasm. I just want to dissect this statement here. 

The Literal Meaning: You’re an idiot to think you were ever more than an assistant. 

This is what Pinky hears. 

But if you listen to Brain’s tone rather than just reading the line, he sounds genuinely hurt that Pinky would ever be tempted by something as frivolous as an amusement park. It’s Pinky, so he just sees ‘ooh fun rides, cotton candy, and carnival games’! 

But Brain is perfectly aware that this is Snowball’s well-crafted method of taking away the only thing he truly has, and he knows it’s working. And he’s hurt. 

The Actual Meaning: Snowball’s trying to separate us and you’re falling for it, Pinky. You may be an idiot, but many of my plans never would’ve come to fruition without you. You’re much more than an assistant. You’re my friend and my world.  

Unfortunately, all Pinky hears is that Brain was only using him. That Brain values him for manual labor and an extra hand only, rather than a treasured companion. The fact that Brain often falls short of making Pinky feel appreciated just adds to this. 

And now that he no longer has Pinky, Brain’s spirit is crushed. Brain is persistent, but without Pinky, he has no reason to be. 

As far as he knows, his only two friends have turned their backs on him and couldn’t care less if he has nowhere else to go. 

Poor thing. He needs hugs. 

“I didn’t think it was possible. Humanity has actually gotten dumber.” -Brain

OK I think this one shot establishes what the world would be like under Snowball. His name is everywhere, and he tells the population to do stupid things just to bask in his own superiority. 

However, I can’t see Brain putting his name on every building so frivolously like this if he ruled the world. Sure, he’d name a bunch of things after himself and Pinky, but it would be more meaningful to them. 

Brain wants humanity to advance, not regress. 

Poor Pinky. Despite all this new extravagance and luxury, he’s also lonely. The room and bed are large, but it lacks personality. He’s sleeping with an ACME Labs snow globe, and other than a reference to Citizen Kane, it also shows that he’s not happy with this. 

The worst thing in the world for these mice is separation from each other. 

Suicide by cat. 

Poor little guy can’t make it on his own. Luckily, he snaps out of it. 

“My world. I must save MY world!” 

Said while looking at a picture of Pinky. Real subtle there Brain. 

“Look, you fool. You have no brilliant ideas. I’m only using you to get at him! So just stay quiet!” -Snowball

“You’re...using me?” -Pinky

He was just a bargaining chip. Never a friend. 

“What do you want?” 

“My friend. And MY world!”

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He makes martial arts noises like a dork. I love him. 

I love how their characters are reflected in the mecha designs (also I had no idea Snowball was Iron Man!) 

Snowball’s is overall the more efficient design. It’s also much more combat ready and violent. In comparison, Brain’s suit is simply operated with a bunch of levers. It’s alright for peaceful situations like getting around faster or simply blending with a human population, but in a straight up fight the levers take too much time to operate. 

Snowball is more efficient than Brain, and while he’s got the ego, he lacks the insecurities that hold Brain back. His confidence makes him such an effective foe. And more importantly, Snowball doesn’t value Pinky’s companionship. He’s a tool and nothing more. Compare that to Brain. While Brain struggles at showing it, he ultimately wants Pinky’s input and values his jumbo-sized heart. 

Somewhat off topic, but I feel like the reboot missed this aspect of Brain and made him too overly edgy and violent (reboot!Brain would probably prefer Snowball’s mecha design over his counterpart’s). The only time Brain should become violent, if not for comedy, is when he’s protecting Pinky. His plans should have a level of restraint to them, and Pinky is the moral compass.  

I just like this shit-eating grin right here (I mean, he did eat shit in Welcome to the Jungle so...lol)

This is such an insanely clever move for Pinky. I feel like Brain would be like ‘oh my god Pinky!’ and then ‘wow, that’s actually brilliant what the heck is this tingling feeling’. 

ACME LABS IS IN NEW YORK CITY??????

I know this is a case of Where the Hell is Springfield but gdi aren’t they supposed to be in southern California. 

Ok fine I realize the ending to this ep is a reference to North by Northwest cause they somehow got to Mt. Rushmore but still 

Weird tangent but North by Northwest’s ending bothers me (not gonna fault this ep as it’s just a parody)? I’m sorry the girl is barely hanging onto Mt. Rushmore, the dude pulls her up, and then they have sex in a car. The sudden transition always seemed weird to me. 

I am ending this analysis post with a weird shot of Snowball cause i can and it’s his episode.