#i wanted to give him highlights in the color of his hat

[kemiiros]

CAUSE IM A GRINDERRRR WHOAOHOHOHOHOHHHH

ive had this idea for so long and finally got around to draw it!!! i hope its visible that its bfduo because i cant draw mustache at ALLLL

(1st w text 2nd w non :3)

[ophanstears]

Undertale YELLOW ReImagined!

I wanted to put my own spin on how the cast of UTY would look in my style! :) I'm new to pixel art, and I had a blast trying it out! [Just to clarify, this is NOT an attempt to "fix" UTY's designs; I have immense respect for all the artists and developers working on UTY, and their work is incredible! I LOVE the cast, their animations, art and designs! This is all just for fun!] A ton more thoughts and comparison under the Read More! if you feel like reading a lot.

Flowey the Flower: I gave Flowey flushed, freckled cheeks and a tooth gap to make him look cuter and more approachable! Just a ruse, though - fluster him enough, and he might revert to that typical pale face and frown.

Clover: Clover is the iconic player character of the game so I changed as little as possible. I simply adjusted some colors and added details, including the adorable blush they have in a lot of promo art!

Dalv: I aimed to showcase Dalv's lightning powers through his design, so I gave him glowing horns and some subtle markings, including a pinkish nose. <3 While he’s originally based on Vlad, I added some minotaur elements because they really suit him. I Like in the original story, the minotaur trapped in a maze, unsure of what else is out there.

Martlet: I'll be honest, I saw some art of chubby Martlet and was inspired. To bring her passion for woodworking across, I gave her some tight but comfy overalls! She has some cool goggles that she always forgets to wear when flying - typical Martlet! Since a martlet is said to be a bird that never rests or settles, I gave her some cool glowly ghost legs! They're translucent!

Starlo: I revamped Starlo's cape by changing the patterns and adding tassels! I also removed the piece of wheat sticking to his hat because, honestly, I tend to forget to draw it. ^^* The inner fabric of his cape has a fun star pattern, tying into his previous obsession with space! And of course, big boots!

Ceroba: I made Ceroba a bit furry-like and taller, sort of to mirror Toriel! I wanted to give her a more traditional kimono with beautiful patterns, and I added eyebags to make her look a bit tired. She also has large paws now; I considered giving her sandals but ultimately decided against it.

Axis: To be honest I wanted to push his design even further but!!! Then it wouldn't be Axis anymore! :( I kept most of his original features but added some pink highlights. His antennae now have pointy tips, resembling bunny ears! I couldn’t resist the idea of a fox monster creating a bunny robot to apprehend humans - it’s just too cute! He's also taller now for intimidation factor and in case a larger human comes along.

And that's all! Thank you so much if you made it this far! More is to come soon! :) here is a wip!

I also have an AU in the works! And lots and lots of art!!!

[dadsbongos]

P(AV) IN V

word count - 1.5 k / warnings - unprotected sex, pinv sex, vanilla :), make up sex, fem reader who wears skirt, not beta read

summary - you and pav fight... and then make up :3 with cool kitchen counter sex ~~~

“Late,” your words slice through the warm air as soon as the front door stutters open. Your icy tone dregs that welcomed warmth, blistering it down a raw, unforgiving chill, “Hours late.”

Pavel flashes a cheesy grin, manually crinkling the corners of his eyes, “My love! You’re alive, and you’re well! We’re both still alive and well,” his rambling persists as he slides through your frigid doorway and politely stops at the shoe rack, “How amazing is that, dearest? We could perish at any given moment should All-mer will, and yet we both still stand. Breathing. And well. And still…” he sighs, hesitant to break eye contact and pull off his boots (fearful your teeth will latch onto his neck the instant it's unguarded), “Still in love.”

Your folded arms remain firm over your chest, but the stiffness of such a guarded stance at least gives Pavel the confidence you won’t pounce as he unties his shoes.

“Yes, thank All-mer, my free fool has returned home. And in a lieutenant’s uniform no less… he shames us and his beloved All-mer for that. But yes, thank All-mer he’s home,” he’s wincing at the sting of your words, knowing exactly how terribly he’s set himself up, “Three hours late.”

Pavel finishes removing his muddied boots and settling them on the bottom layer of the rack in silence. Once that job is finished, he cannot hide behind the chore any longer -- now, he is forced to confront the full wrath of a woman scorned. Not just any woman, the only woman he’s sworn himself to; and not just any kind of scorn, the kind bred from arriving three hours late for anniversary dinner.

Finally, he weaves his fingers together at the pelvis and stares with those silvery sharp eyes; golden curls that have played you like a fiddle many times before falling over his forehead. As if he’s some kind hearted businessman from the center of town pleading for his wife’s forgiveness rather than the man he actually is.

He hasn’t even presented you with a ring, yet.

“I’m very, very late,” Pavel confirms, but it’s the last you want to hear. You already know this, what you want to know is what his reasoning could possibly be -- what made him think it was appropriate to come home without so much as a bouquet of flowers? He suspires sharply, so sharp it feels like a stab right in his lung, and shoulders scrunch towards his ears defensively, “I don’t have an excuse.”

“Pav…” you’re not keen as to why you trouble yourself groaning his name. It solves nothing, the only solace you scavenge is knowing it makes guilt bloom in his chest.

Even that is shallow.

“I don’t,” Pavel removes his hat and strips the monster’s hide from his back. Another way you know Pavel is not like the businessmen in town, when he steps forward more parts bare than clothed -- only a fraction of his intent is libido, “I was working, and then it was eight.”

“‘Working’,” you scoff, turning against the kitchen counter to pore into the steel sink. Colored blobs have pooled in the bottom, shifting in time with your unsteady rocking, “You’re obsessive, this is destructive. You’re going nowhere.”

“I told you,” now his sorrow is adopting irritation, brows furrowing and jaw tensing, “I told you exactly who I was, and you said you could live with it. I told you what I wanted for my life, and you went along with me anyway. I am sorry that I’m late, but don’t you dare pretend I’m doing this regardless of you.”

Unfortunately, you cannot dissent those points. Pavel was upfront that his life’s goal was different from other men. He was willing to meet standards such as marriage or pets or owning a two-story home, but didn’t need those things. He needed to kill the Kaiser. He needed revenge. He needed Godblood on his hands.

You were an unforeseen, much appreciated, highlight on his otherwise dismal path.

And now he was muddying it all, wasn’t he?

Pavel trudges further into the kitchen, naked bar the whities on his hips and socks on his feet. He’s comfortable again, and you must be too because your shoulders slacken. He feels more human now than he had during his entire drag of work. The men he bunks with are as hideous as wild animals, their immortal stench somehow worse. Pavel had begged for this temporary leave since the turn of the new year.

Only to finally return to you hours later than he’d promised. Pavel wisens himself to feel the shame searing through every heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” he slinks up behind you at the sink, tender arms and soft cheek melting your frostbitten exterior, “I have no excuse,” he brushes loose hairs from your temple, fingertips kissing tenderly over your skin seconds before his lips do, “You’re right, dear. I should’ve paid you more mind, but I am not graced with tact. I will be better to you.”

One of the things that drew you and Pavel to each other was a mutual understanding of fire. And hatred. And hiding beneath slumped bodies until soldiers left. You understand Pavel as much as you’re irritated with him. His obsession is your obsession. If you’d been able to dedicate yourself to combat training and wearing their ranks, you’d be no better than him.

“You’re forgiven,” you heave the words as you turn, floating your arms to loop around his neck, “But I wish you’d find a way to be more sensitive to these things.”

“I will,” he soothes.

In an effort to shift the mood, you poke a finger against his bare chest, skin cool from being exposed all day even in his discarded uniform, “Showing off to your superiors again?”

He snorts, a sly smile overtaking his face, “I have to advance at every given opportunity.”

“Bremen whore,” you ‘tsk’.

“Yes, yes, I love the attention.”

“You do have a very lovely body.”

And Pavel most certainly does love your attention.

“Oh, you don’t say?” his breathing turns cursory upon the implication of your words, “Would the pretty lady be willing to demonstrate?”

“She might. If you can promise to be good for her.”

“Always,” he swears it.

You jump back onto the kitchen counter, tugging Pavel between your thighs by the ankles around his waist, “Liar. Make it up to me.”

“If I must,” he makes a show of sighing, kneading the fat of your thighs -- pulling you closer to the edge. Calloused hands burrow under your skirts, tossing the flowing material up and snagging your panties down.

Giggling deliriously, you spread your legs as easily as he maneuvers them. Pavel slicks his right hand with his own saliva, then tucking the wetted digits inside you while thumbing your clit. He’s selfish at the end of the day, removing his fingers (sans the thumb twirling your bundle of nerves) to push his trousers halfway down his thick thighs.

He slides inside you with a heady grown, hands clenching tight around the fat of your hips. His brows pinch and lips pucker, neck craning to mouth at your neck. Kissing as he bucks leisurely into your drooly cunt, always dragging you closer. Pinning your hips with his as he babbles against your skin, nuzzling as if you’re silken.

Pavel pants and whimpers into your ear, greedily soaking up the way your nails dig into his arms and moans sing his name.

“Louder, my love,” he begs, a particular thrust driving your hips back on the counter. His hands claw you back down, “The neighbors should bang down our door- be louder, my love.”

“Insatiable,” you manage to squeal out, head tossing back until your crown is smothering the cold, hard cupboard behind you. Pavel nods shamelessly, now kissing up your cheek to your lips. Drowning out your cries despite his pleas to hear every single one.

Pavel staples you in place, pausing only a moment before hurriedly stuffing you with his cock. He stretches over you, again avaricious for your mouth on his, muffling his own groans under the sloppy stirs of his speedy thrusts. His thumb matches pace, drawing the shiver of his own name, narcissistically, into the apex of your thighs. Your mixing juices soaking his skin. Were he not edging close to climax, Pavel would be tempted to sink to his knees and worship with his mouth. The thought sears through his veins, body seizing -- he hunches unflatteringly, clutching you flush as he cums.

The sensation paired with his devoted attention to your clit cinches the knot in your gut, thighs squished around Pavel’s waist and gasps ragged.

“You’re so handsome when you’re not being a terror,” you coo as Pavel lays his head on your chest.

He snorts quietly, nodding and curling both arms around you, “So tired. You should carry me to our room.”

“If we move, you’re doing the carrying,” you yawn, scooting down to rest your back flat on the counter (causing the both of you to whimper in overstimulation at the jostling).

After a brief respite, Pavel murmurs, half-asleep on your chest, “I’m content to sleep here.”

“Of course…” you yawn again, louder, and scratch your nails through his tangled hair, “I am, too.”

“Of course,” he mimics, laughing tiredly even when you sharply yank a lock of his hair.

[911whatsyourgratitude]

I'd like to give thanks for episode 8x05. Oliver said it was his favorite and I can see why. It checks almost all the boxes of what I expect from the show. There are funny moments but also heartwrenching drama, not to mention exceptional costumes, make ups, and decorations. All in a single episode. Moreover, an episode usually highlights the abilities of one or two actors, but 8x05 showcased the skills of Aisha Hinds, Tracie Thoms, Oliver Stark, Lou Ferrigno Jr., and Ryan Guzman, all at once. This is quite a rare treat.

Aisha showed-off her acting skills in two back-to-back episodes. I was amazed by her monologue in 8x04, and once again by her acting while saving Denny's life in 8x05. I'd been sure there was no way Denny would be killed in 8x05, but the Hen and Karen's panic expressions, and Hen's trembling voice, made me worried for a good while. I think it doesn't matter if viewers have already known how the story will end. The way it's delivered is what matters the most. That's why we watch our favorite shows/episodes repeatedly.

The trio of Oliver, Lou, and Ryan worked wonderfully in sync. The timing of their banter is impeccable. I love the way Ryan delivered his lines when Eddie was treating Buck's boils. His intonation and punctuation was impeccable, including when he emphasized that the boils might be caused by stress. And his facial expression when Eddie couldn't see Buck in the face on the next day is a comedy gold.

All eyes have been on Lou since Tommy kissed Buck back in 7x04. And because this episode cemented Tommy's position as Buck's boyfriend (and hopefully, as end game romantic partner), his performance was dissected more than ever. We wanted to know whether he deserved the coveted place in Buck's life or not. There are clips, gifs, slow-motioned gifs, zoomed gifs, pictures, and zoomed pictures of Tommy taken from episode 8x05 circulated on Tumblr. Probably, even microbes are not scrutinized under microscopes as much as he was. And boy, how he delivered! His facial expressions and gestures showed a lot of what his lines didn't. Fans love the fond look he threw at Buck, the amused and disbelief look at Eddie, how he touched Buck's leg a little in the hospital, how he rolled his eyes when Buck told him he knew how to break the curse, his sleepy voice while he was waiting for Buck to close his laptop, and so on. If this was a test to be Buck's other half, Tommy has passed with flying colors.

Oliver is always a bit of enigma to me. Like Angela Bassett, I've never yet watched a scene where I thought he needed improvements. And 8x05 is no exception. It's delightful to watch him telling the lore of Billy Boils with such concerns. And the way he portrayed Buck's stubborness about the curse, makes viewers fond of Buck instead of being annoyed by him. It is also fun to notice little details in Oliver's acting. Fans have watched with delight in previous episodes how Buck's shoulders slumped after he took care of the bees, and how Buck waved to the phone when Chimney was taking Maddie's call about Athena's plane emergency. In this episode, we caught the detail of how Buck winced in pain while he was trying to sit when Tommy visited him in the hospital. I always wonder, which ones of those details were directional, which ones were planned ahead by Oliver, and which ones were improvised on the spot. Oliver always acts which such ease, as if every scene is natural. Sometimes I just realized that his acting must be not that easy, when I watched other actors stumbled while acted on similar scenes or deliver similar lines. It is clear that Oliver Stark is extremely talented. I often wonder where's the talent ends and the hard work begins.

I also want to thank the people who have worked on the decorations, backgrounds, wardrobes, and make-ups on 8x05. Details on the Firehouse Haunt Fest decorations are amazing, so are the costumes of the casts. I bet the team had a blast while working on this episode. Also, hats off to whoever made Billy Boils. That prop reminded me once again why I didn't choose medical program at the university.

We notice that the festivities were not only shown in the Halloween costumes. The outfits of the casts also reflected the autumn vibes. Special shout out to the team who dressed Maddie, Buck, Eddie, and Tommy, and who decorated Buck's loft. Those beautiful outfits and decorations are really pleasing in the eyes. Especially in the cemetery scenes, where Buck and Tommy looked very sharp in their suits. Some fans have used a screen shot of Tommy in the scene, with green leafs and bright sky in the background, as their wallpaper.

A special thank to Taylor Wong, the writer of 8x05. She briliantly wrote the different treatments Buck received from his boyfriend (Tommy) vs. his bestfriend (Eddie), without painting Eddie as the bad guy. Making Tommy and Eddie ganged up to roast Buck is also a smart move to show that Tommy and Eddie are best friends, and not secretly compete for Buck's love like some people imagine. And

Lastly, a bunch of thanks to Christine Khalafian and Tim Minear, who have made this brilliant episode come to live. I cannot wait to watch the next one.

[victoriadallonfan]

Victoria and the Chocolate Factory

“Signatures detected.”

“All of them?”

“All. Alive too, but the signal is getting weaker. We don’t know if it’s due to the technology he uses or because… well, you know.”

I grit my teeth and nodded. I knew all too well. I’d read all the files, and seen what had happened in the aftermath.

The broken homes. The broken kids.

In some ways, it was worse than Cradle, because this fucker seemed intent on humiliating the kids just as much as he wanted to make them hurt. “We found him,” Dragon said in my ear piece. “His duplicates have been detected and targeted in London and Bath. Your strike team is clear to go.”

The cold air of Oxford whipped over my forcefield as I descended, feeling the chime in my ear as Dragon disconnected and my eye lit up with gold.  A quick rush of information poured into my vision and brain from Kenzie’s camera, logs of teams communicating where they didn’t feel comfortable speaking, coordinating battle plans and sharing files on the targets.

I had to ignore it all for now, blinking rapidly to swipe through vision modes, until I had the highlighted figures in view. Gold for allies and deep red for targets, the camera giving me a very basic outline of the building’s interiors and possible sources of egress.

Coming down through the clouds, I decided to leave those areas to my team; I had a means of making my own entrance.  

The gun chimed above my head, lines of circuitry along the barrel and handles alighting in gold as the charge readied itself, aimed near the largest red target. A top-hat symbol with a crescent grin beneath.

Traced by whatever power source the new gun used as a battery, the gold laser tore through the sky as I flew down, illuminating wisps of moisture from the clouds on my forcefield.  

It was smaller, tighter, and more concise than the original gun. The new gun was more like what Win had made to fight the Simurgh, more compact in use.

Size mattered not though, my eye camera noting how the beam of light tore through several floors of the building in mere moments. 

I cut off the beam as I approached, a few hundred feet away.

I flew down at an angle, collapsing my forcefield to a near skintight level and held the gun so that it trailed behind me like a straightened scorpion’s tail, just so I could lose that extra bit of air resistance.  With the angle of my flight, and my narrowed profile, I slipped into the glowing hole I made at full speed, the rings of melted steel flickering past me like a descent into hell.  

I came to a stop where the laser had hit near my target, a deep smoking crater that smelled of burning licorice and cinnamon. I turned to where the red symbol stood, both of us obscured by smoke.

“I've always wanted my factory to have that rustic, industrial look. How very avant-garde of you.” The smoke began to fade, the blood red top-hat and crescent smile flickering out of focus as my target became visible to the naked eye. “At least the new ventilation will help with the smell, young dear.”

Wonka, I thought with absolute loathing. The smile on the man’s face didn’t reach his manic eyes, casually leaning on a cane, seemingly unbothered by a lightspeed spear hitting the ground not even fifty feet away from him. 

Cloaked in a purple velvet jacket and adorned with a vibrant orange vest, he didn’t look much like a cape. Dark Society, the Ambassadors, and the Suits went with the professional look - even Limerick added splashes of messy color - but this didn’t feel like reinforcing a costume with high quality attire. 

Which made a level of sense. He had never advertised himself as a cape.

Curly brown hair jutted out from under his hat, and a golden goose-handled cane that felt more than a touch on the nose as he loomed over me on a small circular pedestal. A perfect match for the description of William Wonka.

One of the Wonkas, at least. The others had situated themselves across the United Kingdom of Gimel, portraying themselves as kind, loving, benefactors to the community. 

That had been before the missing families hit the news. Before the children were found, sans parents or guardians, dumped in alleyways or in the woods.

None of them were dead. We couldn’t even call it a mercy, with what he had done to them.

Last I had heard, Tattletale was trying to pull in favors from Semiramis to try and revert them to normal. Riley was looking over them too, asking about getting help from Chris for his parole.

A dark fucking irony, considering what his original had done.

“You going to surrender?”  I asked, even though I already knew the answer. More of the factory was coming into view now; giant candy carrots with leaves that looked glossy, almost like they were made of rubber. More alien looking plants and oddly designed pillars were strewn across the floor, looking more like a greenhouse from a TV show than anything that a professional business would have. 

The grass beneath our feet looked normal, but the smell of the burnt ground made me doubt it.

"Surrender?” His voice was soft and calm. He brushed some burned dust off his shoulder. “My dear, I'm afraid you misunderstand the nature of my work," he replied, twirling his cane with an eerie grace. "How nonsensical of a question to ask. Well, I suppose a little nonsense is relished for a reason. I must say, your entrance was quite spectacular, if a bit lacking in finesse."

I ignored his taunts, my gaze unwavering as I aimed the gun at him. He tapped his cane and a glass tube flashed up to encase him, glittering in the factory lights. The way the light was refracting off the glass gave me pause and the madman tipped his hat, “Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous. To me, at least. For you? Well…” 

A flick of his wrist had a silver flute in his hand-

I fired a warning shot, the laser missing the tube on purpose, wanting to slow down whatever he was planning.

-and continued to play the instrument, a small melody, unbothered by the attack. He gave the instrument a twirl and it vanished beneath his coat.

Distorted echoes of laughter and screams seemed to linger in the air as the melody and blast of my laser died down, accompanied by music and the stomp of feet.

“Your fucked up game ends here," I declared, rising up and flying closer to the glass tube. “The heroes have you surrounded. Your duplicates are being hunted down.”

Wonka merely tilted his head. "Oh, my dear, you're not here to end anything. Can’t you hear it? The sound of dreamers and their fitful nightmares? Here they come, right… now."

As he spoke, the shadows within the factory stirred. Short men appeared, their skin orange and hair a sickening shade of green. Each one bore an expression devoid of any emotion, their eyes dead, even as they sized me up. 

Some of them were marching, while others somersaulted or vaulted from behind the candy colored jungle, adroit for their small size.

They sang, and music seemed to emanate from nowhere, reminding me of Nursery’s power.

Oompa Loompas, doopity doo,

Here's a lot of trouble, coming for you.

Oompa Loompas, doopity dee,

If you are wise, then now you must flee.

I turned and opened fire on the minions, only for them to cartwheel out of the way. Others were quick to put obstacles in the beam’s way, including the candy carrots that seemed slower to melt than solid steel. 

We’d captured a few of these Loompas in the past few days, canvassing the remnants of his artificial wilderness in the sewers of London. The ones we let our guards down were quick to duplicate as the song progressed and were surprisingly adroit. Cruel as well, considering what they did to their still-living victims. 

The Loompas that weren’t eradicated were quick to calcify, turning into what was best described as hyper-dense rock candy. Apparently, other locations would have different variations of the Loompas.

Another blast at a group of Loompas trying to aim a fire-hose sized vine my way, scorching chocolate spurting out before being vaporized.

Fast little fuckers.

And they were quickly surrounding me by the dozens.

What do you get when you mess with fate?

A clash of powers, a bitter debate.

What do you get when you challenge the stars?

A battle unfolding, bearing new scars.

You've entered our world of whimsical glee,

But beware, dear Victoria, of the chaos you'll see.

Heroes and villains, in a dance so divine,

Yet meddling too much might- “Gack!”

One of the Oompa Loompas fell to the ground, thrashing as barbed wire exploded out of his mouth. Pieces of a glass marble embedded his eyes.

“Wham! Bam! Shazam! Kablam!” Finale shouted, launching her own barrage of musical blasts, sending the small minions flying about as their empowered song was thrown off-key. 

The other Majors were arriving, Withdrawal blasting Loompas with goop that seemed alive, latching onto anything that moved. Caryatid was acting as a shield for Finale, unharmed as a trio of Loompas tried to bash her head in with a giant lollipop.

Sveta was in the rafters, tossing things at any unaware minion. Children were in her grasp.

The survivors.

“Oompa Loompa, doopity dee,” Limerick sang with the most bored teenage voice I had ever heard, putting away his slingshot. “Here's a new phrase, now listen to me. Oompa Loompa, doopity doo. You can’t do jack shit when we say fuck you.”

He tossed back a knife so casually that one almost would have thought it was reckless, had it not impaled a Loompa through the temple, causing him to fall atop a nearby squad and douse them all in a burning candy puddle from one of the laser blasts.

Loompas turned to him, and I got the distinct impression that his singing pissed them off more than the killing.

I turned to Wonka; chin raised.

“They say that looks can kill,” Wonka tutted. “But it seems being blindsided is what has done me in.” 

He smiled suddenly, “Come then. You and I have so little to do with so much time.”

I charged him, gun at the ready, Fragile One baring her teeth.

His child victims called the factory a ‘world of pure imagination’.

I would make sure to wake him up to reality.

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Part 27

Masterlist

Birthday (Unknown World)

We open on a letter and an envelope which is placed on top and currently being opened. The wax seal reads 'Ateez' while the letter in the back seems to be written by someone describing a dream they've had, or perhaps... a wish?

'-big wish!' '-high up in the sky-' '-soar above the clouds-' '-all I want to fly even higher ... up to the moon!' '-with twinkling stars all-' '-land on the moon-'

Right after, a child's voice is heard, reading out yet another letter detailing their birthday wish as we get a shot of a table covered in the same type of envelopes as the first one we saw: white with a wax seal showing Ateez's name in lieu of an address.

Pretty quickly, it becomes clear this version of Ateez has created an agency dedicated to making children's birthday wishes come true. In their dreams, that is, since that is where these guys are wholly in control.

The first time I saw this video, I was merely appreciating the stunning visuals of the shots, editing, styling and colors, but upon second watch, I thought: this is Halazia's Ateez again, isn't it?

The purple background we've seen with Halazia's Hongjoong twice, the styling choices, the personalities. It gives Matz, it gives Not Okay. To quickly explain myself, I've previously established in my analysis of Matz how I identify Halazia's version of Ateez and, while there were a lot more parallels there, I find Hongjoong's scene from Halazia in particular to be quite useful for detection.

The fluffy hat and purple lighting are easily implemented in other videos and were both also found in Matz to drop hints at a connection:

And what do we find here in this one? A purple background in the opening and during the chorus and, on top of that, a giant fluffy, purple hat on Hongjoong later in the video.

Additionally, all their behavior is also a lot more in line with the mildly unhinged personalities of the Halazia crew. They enjoy chaos, they like setting fire to things, they're like the Black Pirates' version of Ateez but even more out there. I'll also point out more parallels as we come across them from here on out.

To bring things more in line with the commonly known lore though, we should also pause on this flash of Seonghwa in front of a full moon - the moon phase in which the Cromer enables jumping between realities which these guys seem to love doing more than anything.

Last we've seen the Halazia crew was in the unit songs in which they were searching for healing after all the trauma they'd been through. To me, it would make sense they would then choose to reunite as eight and heal their wounds further by actually using their powers for good. And what could be more healing for the soul than making children's wishes come true?

But, of course, since these guys are just a touch insane, they don't just make the sweet and pure dreams come true, but rather the "funny" and... "a little dangerous" ones because anything else would be boring and, while in a dream, there's no harm in letting kids live a little recklessly.

The most obvious one of these children's dreams is the glow-in-the-dark bicycle with wings which we get to see both Wooyoung and Seonghwa ride throughout the video. Shoutout to Wooyoung's stylist by the way - the skirt? The hair? The cropped jacket and colors? Genius. He looks absolutely stunning.

Following their shots, the lyrics change, highlighting nighttime as is common for Ateez's songs. For them, the night brings chaos, it's when they're most active, it's when they pull off their missions and get to mess around with people's dreams. "The real battle begins now," is what Jongho says. And I believe which battle he's speaking of will become clear later on.

During this sequence of Jongho, we also get this shot of him with his reflection which reminds me of Not Okay where he was reaching for his reflection, perhaps seeing himself from another world, a better world, but those times are over now. It's time to face reality.

Before we then cut to Yeosang, we see a candle with a purple flame - hinting at Halazia again, I'd say.

After this, we get a sequence of Yeosang posing with the letters spelling out Birthday and the way it was edited to match the instrumental is perfect. It's camp. I adore it.

We then cut to a clock, showing it's shortly past midnight (I assume that's when they clock in for 'work'), as Jongho asks "Why so serious?" which is likely addressing the people whose dreams they are invading here en masse. Why are you taking life so seriously? Why are you not having more fun? Why are you not taking risks?

Following the chorus, which is all about escaping the work rut and instead choosing to party, skip Mondays, etc., we move into Hongjoong's rap verse where we quickly get another shot paralleling Not Okay, which was the latest music featuring the Halazia crew and was wholly dedicated to exploring the trauma inflicted upon them by their government.

In the lyrics, Hongjoong tells us they've been reborn and are now in charge of the mic. Their voices will now be heard, they get to make the rules and dictate their own lives.

And then he proceeds to end his verse by hypnotizing himself into unconsciousness.

Mingi takes over for him, talking about how it's his birthday every day, which is (apparently) not easy for him, before he gets more serious as we pan through the bullet hole in his birthday cake.

He says each day is a fight, and yet he parties on the stage, and that, if we want our dreams to come true, we should call him, which makes me wonder if this is how they promote their services to the people of this world. Is this a dream they put into people's heads when they come into their world? During a crescent moon, they'd absolutely have the power to do so after all.

Next chorus and we've got the classic arsony reference. It wouldn't be a video with the Halazia crew if there weren't fire at some point. Where the Z-World crew enjoyed playing with fire here and there (like Wooyoung in Fireworks), these guys will fully burn down a building any chance they get.

During this sequence, we also get a classic shot of Yunho surrounded by masked dancers which we've seen with the Halazia crew many times over - in Matz, in It's You, in Not Okay. It's yet another hint.

In the bridge leading into the final section of the song, we get a line that I believe is quite telling when it comes to their mindset as a collective.

"Chaos but paradise." They acknowledge most people's lives are chaotic, full of choices to make, uncontrollable, unpredictable, and yet it's paradise to them who grew up under a government which controlled every single part of their lives, mind-controlling them, trapping them in looping days without sunlight, each day like the last, not even a taste of freedom to be had.

When you lived like that until just recently then, yes, this is paradise. This absolutely unpredictable chaos is like heaven, so of course they wouldn't understand why we take our lives so seriously. Why do we choose to obey social norms when we don't have to? Why can we only dream up flying bicycles as children and later in life, we only think of work and money? After all, everybody could skip work and just have fun if they truly wanted to. No Android Guardians would show up to kill them over it like they would have in their world.

The fact that this line is then followed by Jongho's high note, screaming out "We're drowning!" is also really telling to me. They're not at all over their trauma yet, this is merely another step toward healing and understanding their new reality. They're having fun with people's dreams to distract themselves, but as they try to do just that, they're also forced to realize that people are struggling in every world they travel to, whether there is a government like theirs or not. No matter where they go, there's suffering in some way shape or form. There's no escape. And yet they keep trying.

The final shot, after a series of chants by the entire crew ("Don't want to stop, we're on the top!"), is of Wooyoung in his adorable little outfit falling through a glittery night sky, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. It's a fitting parallel given how they're all currently choosing to live in Wonderland, the dream world, instead of living out in the harsh real world where healing would take so much longer.

[vividzzxz]

🌸 ᴴᵒʷ ᵉⁿʰʸᵖᵉⁿ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ 🌸

(Hyung line)

-Heesung:

ⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʰᵉᵉˢᵉᵘⁿᵍ

-The first time you both met was at the dance studio, where both of your groups had a mixed dance session. He was flabbergasted by your beauty. He often stared at you for too long while you were dancing, and ofc you noticed it and gave him a smile to which he almost passed out coz of how beautiful your smile was. -He often asked your group members about your details and tried to make small talks between you two. You loved to make new friends and ofc you talked back. (NGL... you found him cute too. Who doesn't..?) -Then the day came where he built up enough courage and asked you out on a coffee date. You being yourself, accepted it coz you had a little crush on him too. You dolled yourself up, doing light makeup and wearing beige-colored clothes to match with the date and went on with the day.. -Heesung was shook at how lovely you looked and couldn't help but stare. After buying you a coffee and one of your favorite snack, you both started talking. -Timeskip to almost a month later, he's glad he took you on that date because once you both became closer day by day, he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you accepted it. He still thinks of it and smiles to himself for earning himself the kindest girlfriend ever.

-Jay:

ⁿᵒⁿⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʲᵃʸ

-The first time he met you was one of their concert and afterwards their fansign. He fell in love with how beautiful you were. How you were dressed in a denim mini-skirt and denim jacket with a cropped shirt inside. A simple outfit that made you look like an angel. -He waited Hoped for the moment where you would come for the fansign event. And once you came he was the happiest person ever. He gave you more affection than the others. He felt this surge of happiness when you both intertwined your fingers together like the others did, even you felt it. -After this, both of you hoped to see each other, and guess what, fate brought you two back together at a cafe. He walked into the cafe wearing a mask and a hat, not wanting attention. He saw you sitting there at the corner drawing on your i-pad, the sunlight hitting your face and highlighting you already beautiful features more. -This gave him a surge of confidence as he came and sat beside you, and voila you both started talking casually and now are great friends that are in love with each other.

-Jake:

ⁿᵒⁿⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ⁿᵒⁿⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʲᵃᵏᵉ

-Both of you met at a petshop. You went to give your pet dog to the shop owner since you both were friends.. When you were petting you dog and kissing her before leaving, Jake walked in with one of his other friend. He saw you petting your dog and walked up to you. You both were visually shocked by each others looks. Both of you shrugged it off before he initiated the conversation. -He asked whether the dog was yours and started petting it. Surprisingly, your dog let him pet it. "She doesn't let anyone other than me and the owner pet her. Guess there are some people she might like after all." I say before giggling. He replied with a giggle and continued petting her. I looked at the time and sighed before giving her to the owner. "Are you leaving her here with the owner? Are you going somewhere??" He asked. -I replied "Yea.. My mother's sick and she lives in Japan, so I gotta travel to meet her and I can't take her with me coz my mom's allergic to dog fur. I'll be back in exactly a week, hope she'll be fine". He gives me a smile before saying "Hope your mother gets well soon." I smiled and walked out of the shop so I could catch my flight on time. -A week later I come back to the same petshop to see him petting my dog. I run to my dog before hugging her tight and kissing her so much. He laughs before asking how's my mom doing.. After the convo he makes a brave decision of asking me on a date to which I accept and well after hanging out for a while we both start developing feelings for each other.

-Sunghoon:

ⁱᵈᵒˡ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ⁱᵈᵒˡ!ˢᵘⁿᵍʰᵒᵒⁿ

(Both of you work under the same company / entertainment )

-You both first met at an event, where you both wore similar clothing and sat next to each other. Both of you had small conversations during boring times but kept it limited to prevent dating rumors. But the thing you both noticed was that, you both kept meeting each other at the same events more often. -This caused you both to become better friends with feelings for each other. Both of you knew you liked each other and you were whipped for him and his looks and vice versa. But you both were scared of the attacks and hate you would get for dating each other. Once after an event both of you were called in for a meeting. They shared that both of you had to go to an event as a couple. -This caused major shock for the both of you. They said that most fans wanted you both to take part in a event as a couple as you both looked good together. Later on, you both had a private meeting, with just the two of you. That's when he built the courage to ask you out, to make it official, to show you how much he loved you. You loved it but warned him about the attacks he would face due to this. To which he said he would be ready to face anything as long as you were with him. -You accepted and well until today, he's the best thing that had happened to you.

GYAHHH... I NEVER KNEW MAKING SOMETHING LIKE THIS WOULD HAVE BUTTERFLIES ERUPT IN MY STOMACH... ESPECIALLY THE JAKE ONE.. UwU

✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

-Note

I take requests for writing...

It can be from Skz, Svt, TxT, En-.

It can be based on smut, fluff, etc.

THANK YOU !!

[skitskatdacat63]

Prince Jenson of Somerset

+ process & lore

Yayyyyy omg finally have drawn portraits of the four main characters!!!! I'll show the process of Jenson's first and then them all four together. Though it's a shame the Seb/Fernando ones are older, I think it's hopefully obvious how much I've improved since November?

Look at him in all his handsome, princely glory 🥹 It's funny, I'm always happy with the second sketch and initial lineart, and then I start coloring it and I absolutely hate it, and it takes a significant amount of time into the painting for me to like it again. And then I reach a certain point and I'm in love with it again. Ugh though I gotta say, I love drawing the curls, it's just so 18th century, but at the same point, man I always will love my original lineart for the hair the best ah. Also yes I absolutely had to give him a big ass hat with feathers, he really is that kinda guy to me. I originally drew a bicorne and then realized that those don't really exist until basically almost a century later oops, so tricorne it is!!

Okay now omg look at them all together 🥹

Haha wow I have improved a lot! Just like the Seb/Fernando ones, Mark and Jense's were meant to be put together. I think there's a lot of inherent characterization in their poses that highlight the difference between them. Mark is looking up, very wistful, looking up to greater people, greater things. Jenson's head is tilted down, almost looking at the viewer, he is very satisfied with his role and revels in it, he's here to slay!

Okay, yes, lore, characterization, sorry that it is so far down on the post!!

Jense would probably be the fan favorite if this AU was an actual book or show or something. He's the guy you randomly find while browsing Wikipedia and you're like, woah this guy is so cool??? Unlike Sebmarknando, he doesn't really have the same level of angst, he's kinda just chilling. He's a bit harder to write a lore post about, because he's basically that character who is always magically around the corner, ready to witness some crazy thing and just breeze past it.

He is less linked to Seb than people like Mark and Fernando, because he's basically just his personal minister of transportation(read: horse fucker), so he avoids a lot of the relationship complications and drama, but that isn't to say he's completely uninvolved. He really likes Seb, and loves to hang around with him and serve him, but he's not as beholden to him. He's who everyone goes to air their grievances or to get away from the others, and he's very happy with this role. He's generally willing to play any side in an argument, but does tend to have a pretty big soft spot for Seb overall(Seb also gives him cuteness aggression, and he wants to bite him. Especially when Seb puffs himself up and acts super bratty when he gets offended at not being seen as a proper ruler.)

He's royalty from other kingdom, but pledged his loyalty to Seb's kingdom when he was quite young and has served him(his father first) ever since. He started off somewhat low in the military, rose to a pretty high rank, was a renowed war hero, and then ended up retiring pretty early to tend to Seb's horses. That's an oversimplification, but yeah. He liked the military life, was very good at it, but decided he had done enough, and wanted to be involved in more direct service, albeit more laid back. As I mentioned in Mark's post, Mark *really* doesn't understand his choice to do this, because if Mark had been in Jense's position, he can't ever imagine being able to let all that go and living the quiet life.

He is the palace whore, everyone has been with him honestly. It'll be like, some man walks into his bedroom, only to see Jenson in bed with his wife, but instead of being angry, he's like "wow you couldn't even wait for me??" He's just very carefree, and happy to just slut around and tend to Seb's horses.

I think he definitely still advises Seb, and would go to battle if truly need be, but generally seems to be living in a different world than the weird psychosexual homoerotic political drama that the others seem to be living in. But as I said, it's not like he doesn't contribute to it! He loves to goad Fernando, and constantly plays devil's advocate in "debates" between Fernando and Seb. He's also obviously the one that keep "accidentally" locking them in rooms and forgetting where the key is.

Sorry if this isn't very explanatory, I hope it gives a general idea to the type of character he is???? As always, let me know if you have any questions! I kinda struggled on what to write here because I'm finishing this at almost 8 am 😭 so I'm not sure if it's great or not. But basically you need to know: horse fucker who is generally breezy and carefree but also can be a bit of a menace to society every once in a while.

[mumbleberry]

There's so much I love about Princess's inclusion in the first TPB graphic novel - giving her more agency in the story, setting up better context for future story developments, making Firestar's origins less lonely - but I think one of the most important changes centers around her second appearance during Firepaw's hunting assignment, featured in the previews, because of how it deepens the undertones in Firepaw's conversation with Bluestar after. That scene is already unsettling in the original book, with Tigerclaw and Bluestar both seeming so immediately threatened by Firepaw's outside connections and so willing to threaten him if he doesn't disown the people he grew up with, but I feel like reframing that conversation around Princess, his sister, adds some important weight that makes that unease harder to miss.

Bluestar is Firepaw's main mentor figure, even before he officially becomes her apprentice; she's someone he wants to trust and who he wants to trust him in return, one of the most important cats to impress and inspire. From an audience perspective, we're supposed to like her, as she's a kinder contrast to more openly xenophobic characters like Tigerclaw, Longtail, and Dustpaw, but this scene in both iterations demonstrates that anyone can perpetuate the Clans' cruelty to outsiders, even those who are more receptive to change. Again, this scene is important and insightful whether it's about Smudge or Princess, but I think for a lot of readers, Bluestar not-so-subtly asking Rusty to abandon his sister will hit harder than asking him to abandon a friend, especially considering how much Clan culture emphasizes family ties. It's cold, cruel, and hypocritical, even if on some level Bluestar is speaking from a place of concern about how other Clan cats will see Firepaw if he doesn't demonstrate absolute devotion.

Where the graphic novel especially excels, too, is in the visual delivery of this scene. My hat is off to @nyaatalie and @smgoetter for their excellent work on this entire novel, and I think this exchange especially demonstrates some serious understanding of the power of visual storytelling. Partial screenshots and a little bit of analysis below the cut!

One of the big things that first caught my attention on these pages was just how menacing Bluestar is at first - eyes narrowed and flashing in stark shadows, the darker, colder backgrounds all contrasting against Firepaw's warmth and sincerity. These pages are all very static as well, juxtaposed against the dynamic tapestries of vibrant color and motion we saw when Firepaw was talking with Princess. Bluestar and her words in this moment are so plainly cast as something rigid and harsh, her expressions adding a much more hostile tone to her words than I remember getting from the book - and that's a good thing. I know that plenty in this fandom, myself included, are pretty frustrated with how wishy-washy this series can be when it comes to condemning xenophobia and authoritarianism, and I think making Bluestar's xenophobic demands more transparently cruel is absolutely a strong step away from that indecision. This isn't a proud or graceful moment for Bluestar, and the artwork emphasizes it.

We get a very different perspective, too, on how Firepaw responds. His despondance is palpable here, and in particular this borderless panel is absolutely magnificent in highlighting how lonely he feels. The serpentine chain of speech balloons through negative space gives this feeling of the words being dragged out of him, like he doesn't believe what he's saying, but feels he needs to say it all the same. It's absolutely beautiful, one of my favorite pages in the whole book.

There's so much less pride here than I read in the original book - which admittedly can always be down to a subjective read, too - but I absolutely love how this, again, paints what Bluestar is asking of him in a much colder light. He's small and lonely in ThunderClan already, and Bluestar is demanding that, in a way, he chooses further isolation.

BUT.

Obviously, Firepaw doesn't choose to leave after this conversation, nor does he stay under any burden of destiny or fear. As he keeps talking about his loyalty to his friends and his mentors, about his aspirations to live a less sedentary life, color and motion returns to the panels that follow with swirls of starlight and warming hues - this is where Firepaw is sincere in his conviction to stay, not out of scorn for his Twolegplace family, but out of love for the family he's found in ThunderClan and his passions for hunting and exploring. Again, really beautiful and a great way to emphasize Firepaw's role as an anti-authoritarian protagonist; he's not here to follow the rules or put others down, he's here for the community he's come to love. He's here for his friends and the good he sees in others, not for power or honor, and that's what positions him as Tigerclaw's enemy.

I'm going to be thinking about these pages for a long while. It might not be the aggressive rewrite a lot of fans want, but I think it's an approach that works beautifully for the series, and I have nothing but respect for the care and attention to detail that Sara and Natalie have poured into their work; this is already hands-down my favorite official Warriors sequential work so far. I'm so excited to see what comes next!!

[roosterbruiser]

Going back home with Bob and him showing you his hometown and meeting his family 🫶

(lt-natrace on main❤️)

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

When you met Bob for the first time, he was achingly perfect. You were at the farmer's market, which you frequented when the weather was nice enough, and happened to stop by the same local honey booth at the same time.

You noticed him immediately: the hunk in the old Temple University sweatshirt with the muscular legs straining against the cool blue denim shorts he was wearing. His hair was soft, but well-kept and his face was cleanly shaven. You knew, just from looking at him, that he took good care of himself. You liked that in an adult man and had found out, the hard way, that it was not a very common trait in the pointless circle of men you sometimes dated.

The two of you reached for the last jar of lavender-infused honey at the same time. His fingers pressing down on the back of your hand elicited a strange sort of physical response from you--usually, you'd jolt away after touching a strange man. But you wanted to lean into that touch, even if it was minuscule, even if it was minute.

But he retracted, eyes wide behind his wire frames.

"Oh, excuse me, ma'am! I apologize," he said instantly, cheeks pink.

You smiled at him, biting your lip.

"What are you sorry for?" You asked, letting your fingers slip off the jar of honey.

The wind was billowing softly, pulling the scent of the peonies from the next stand over to your nose and parted lips. Bob was blushing something fierce, squinting down at you beneath the harsh gaze of the sun, stammering softly.

"Well, I suppose I was making an attempt at that honey of yours," he says, laughing softly.

It makes you laugh--the two of you reached the honey at the same time, fair and square. The only thing he was guilty of was not bringing a hat or sunglasses out and about on a Saturday morning in San Diego. But he was so endearing, already willing to give you the last jar of honey despite your stranger-status.

He was smiling down at you, too tall for his own good, thin lips pink and soft. His eyes were the color of the sky just above him, so deep and so clear that you felt like you could suspend yourself in them. Honestly, you were having a hard time breathing as he gazed down at you, but in a delicious manner.

"You can have it," you say softly, smiling up at him. "I like the vanilla honey just as much."

Honestly, you don't like the vanilla honey just as much. In fact, the lavender honey was the highlight of your week. You kept having to purchase it every week because you ate it in copious amounts. You couldn't help yourself--it was that good.

But this guy's cute. And he tried to give you the honey already. His face is sweet and his smile is giving you heart palpitations. You think, without even really knowing why or how, that he deserves the honey. It's just an innate feeling that's sitting in your chest heavily.

"You're sure?" He asked softly, perching a brow questioningly.

You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Aren't I always?" You tease like you're old friends.

He grins, chuckling. And then he reaches for the honey and gives you a nod.

"Thanks for this," he says, gesturing to the honey. "I don't think I caught your name?"

You say your name, your heart fluttering when it falls off his lips.

"I'm Bob," he introduces, nodding politely again.

"Pleasure to have my honey stolen by you, Bob," you teased, wrinkling your nose adorably.

He laughed--it was a good sound, one that sounded natural among the calling seagulls and chattering people and live music playing down the street. It just sounded like it belonged there.

"Trust me, the pleasure's been all mine," he grinned at you.

Then you laughed--and Bob nearly doubled over at the sudden bout of butterflies in his belly. Remain calm, Bob. You literally don't even know her.

A soft lull fell over the two of you, both of you trying hard not to let your eyes wash over each other's faces. But there was a distinct longing to continue being in each other's presences, one that you both felt was suddenly intrinsic to you.

But Bob finally cleared his throat and nodded.

"Hope to see you around."

When he said your name again, the skin on the back of your neck prickled. It just sounded right falling out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I hope so, too."

You were a little disappointed that he didn't ask for your number before he wandered up to the register. Logically, you know it's silly. You literally don't even know the guy. But he was so cute and his cheeks were so pink and his lips were so soft looking that your heart felt a little swollen as you continued about the farmer's market, no honey in hand.

You did see each other around: ten minutes later at your favorite pickle stand. Bob fell in step beside you as you inspected a jar of half-sours, humming quietly to yourself.

You were startled, but grinning. He smiled down at you, cheeks pinker than they were before, breaths coming out in short puffs like he'd been hustling to find you (which he had).

"Hey," he breathed, shaking his head softly.

"Hey," you smiled softly. "Fancy seeing you here."

He laughed. God, you were funny. He liked that so much. He liked you so much. You in your pretty dress with your sunglasses on and your hair soft and sweet-smelling. He was an idiot for not asking for your number at the honey stand and had decided, not a moment after paying for the jar of honey you let him have, that he needed to step up and get your information. But you had been gone when he turned around--and not one jar of the vanilla honey had been taken. So, truth be told, he had hustled around trying to find you. And find you he did, your eyebrows furrowed as you inspected a jar of pickles, lips pursed.

And God, you looked fucking beautiful. He knew you were beautiful already. He had also noted you as soon as you'd wandered to the same booth. You had a faint smile on your lips and a little hum in your throat as you moved around wistfully, your hair billowing in the soft breeze. And just after your hands touched for the first time, he swore to God that he smelled flowers. Like some sort of weird fated thing. And to Bob, you looked just as beautiful looking at a jar of pickles than you did reaching for a jar of honey.

"Well, this isn't entirely serendipitous," he admitted, flushing again. He ran a hand through his hair, composing himself, trying to ignore how fucking perfect the color of your dress looked against your skin. "Had to track you down because you forgot..." Bob reaches into his tote bag and retrieves the fateful jar of lavender honey. "This," he finishes with a grin.

He put it in your hands before you even have a chance to tell him that it was his, he paid for it.

"I want you to have it," he told you with a sweet shrug. "But I was hoping that maybe I could buy you some lunch or something. You know, for all the trouble."

You were dithered entirely. God, he was fucking cute. And he had chased you down strictly to give you honey that he paid for and to offer to buy you food. A man after your own heart.

You're not sure what possessed you to do it. But you couldn't help yourself, watching him squint at the sun, his poor blue eyes straining against the brightness. You plucked your spare pair of sunglasses from your tote and slipped them over his eyes. And he's not sure what possessed him to let you, but he did. He didn't even mind that your sunglasses were ultra-feminine and layered on top of his prescription lenses.

And it softened the both of you entirely.

You grinned at each other.

"I could eat," you tell him, sinking your teeth into your lip.

And the rest was pretty much history.

Everything was easy with Bob. Like, really, everything was mind-numbingly easy. Everything clicked into place like it was a magnetized puzzle. You and Bob were a couple that prided themselves on their ability to successfully navigate stressful situations: moving houses, adopting an orphaned rabbit, deployments, IKEA.

What makes it so easy between the two of you is a deep and mutual love for each other. As crazy as you are about Bob, he's crazier for you tenfold. You just thoroughly and completely love each other.

So it's strange that you feel so entirely out of your element right now. You know deep down that everything is going to be just fine, but you're nervous to meet Bob's parents. I mean, the two of you have been together for nearly four years and between deployments and work and all the other shit in adult life, he hasn't found the time to take you back to his hometown.

It's something he's been meaning to do since the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend. He loved his family and considered them to be the most important people in his life, right up there beside you and Pook (your rabbit, obviously).

Bob couldn't be happier right now. His Suzuki is finally getting some dust on it as he drives down the familiar gravel roads leading to his family's farm, the sun is shining, you're sitting in his front seat, and he has an entire week off of work. This is Bob's version of bliss.

Your nerves are getting the best of you. You're usually calmed by Bob's presence alone and usually, you'd be totally open and honest about your nerves. But he's so happy right now--grinning and singing along to the radio, pointing out old stomping grounds, eyes sparkling with nostalgia. You don't want to put a damper on his mood.

So you sit quietly, fiddling with the hem of your dress, rolling the silky material between your fingers. There's a rapid pacing to your pulse right now and you're starting to sweat a little bit--but you're determined to suffer in silence.

You force yourself to take deep breaths when Bob turns down the long, winding drive that leads to the humble little farm house on the hill where he was brought up.

"Home sweet home," Bob sighs, squeezing your hand. He hasn't seemed to notice how clammy your palms are. "Can't wait for you to see my childhood bedroom, honey. It's basically a Star Wars museum."

Any other time, you would laugh. You would tease him. But you just barely manage to smile weakly. This Bob takes notice off immediately.

He squeezes your hand again, suddenly realizing the cold sweat slicking your fingers.

"What's going on, honey?"

You swallow hard, starting to shake your head, but he's peering at you with those earnest blue eyes and fuck--you've never been able to lie to him before. It's not going to start today.

"Just nervous is all," you say quietly, shrugging like it's no big deal.

But he knows you better than that. Of course he does--he's spent every single day of the last four years loving you better than anyone ever has in your life.

He nods, brows furrowing. He feels just a little bit like an asshole now, all giddy and carefree while you're sitting in the passenger seat in a cold sweat.

"I get that," he says earnestly, slowing the car down so you two have more time together, "but I promise that they're gonna love you. Like my mama is gonna be obsessed with you, honey. Promise."

Bob is just someone you always believe. He's never steered you wrong and you doubt he would start right now. You know that his family is going to be good people--how could Bob be such a well-rounded and perfect individual if he had not been raised by the cream of the crop? And Bob loves you so much that you're certain they're gonna have to love you at least a little bit.

"If you say so, Lieutenant," you sigh, sinking further into your seat.

He kisses your knuckles softly, letting his lips linger there as the car rolls to a stop in the driveway.

Your nerves boil over the moment you step over the threshold of his family home. You're overwhelmed for many reasons, the first being that Bob is carrying the luggage and has insisted that you walk into the house ahead of him (damn that gentleman). But you're also overwhelmed with affection and awe just looking at the sweet little farmhouse he grew up in, the one that still seems to stain all his laundry with that sugar-cookie scent.

"Mama, we're home!" Bob calls.

Your heart constricts as Bob lays the luggage down in the entryway and laces his arms around your waist.

And before you even really know what's happening, Bob's mom comes racing from the kitchen with a flowery apron on and flour in her hair, grinning the same grin as her son. And she's hugging you to her tightly like you're old friends, petting your hair, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Oh, sweetheart! It is so good to finally meet you! Bob's been talking our ears off about you for years! You're so beautiful! Can I get you anything? Water? Ice tea? A cookie? I think I have some leftover chicken and dumplings if you're hungry, honey! How as the drive?"

She's holding your biceps as she questions you, not taking a breath or pausing for you to answer even one of her questions. And that is oddly the moment that you know you're going to be okay. She hasn't seen her son in four years and she hugged you first--doing her damndest to make sure you're comfortable in her home.

"Breathe, mama," Bob chuckles, patting her shoulder. "Gonna give yourself an asthma attack!"

Bob's mama, who looks strikingly like Bob with her wavy hair and bright blue eyes and thin lips, just grins at Bob before pulling him into a hug, too.

And just seeing them hold each other, watching a mother love on her son that's been gone for far too long, it makes you feel warm and safe.

"We're so happy you're home," his mother tells him, shaking her head tearfully. "We've missed you so much!"

The rest of the night goes perfectly.

Every minute that you're there, you get more and more comfortable. Bob's mom could talk to a brick wall--she never runs out of questions to ask you and positively drinks in all your answers. She's pleasantly surprised and thoroughly impressed when you help her with the peach cobbler. Even Bob's dad, who is a quieter and meeker man, grows comfortable enough around you by dinnertime to play the harmonica for you around the bonfire.

Bob really comes alive when he's around his parents. No longer is he the shy and reserved man that nurses glasses of water in the corner of the bar--he's the light of their lives and he knows it. You've never seen him treated this way by anyone except you. There's a deep, deep comfort in knowing that you share this with his parents: Bob is your world and everything in it.

"You two love each other," his mother had remarked from across the fire, grinning widely.

Bob had blushed, teasingly rolling his eyes as he held your hand in his, your head resting on his shoulder.

"What gave it away?" You tease.

"Oh, I just like you so much, honey," his mother had said then, laughing. "You gotta come around more often!"

By the end of the first night there, just after two in the morning, you and Bob trudge up the creaky steps with smoke staining your hair and wine sloshing in your bellies.

"So?" Bob asks softly as he closes his bedroom door behind him, smiling as you take in all the endless Star Wars posters lining the walls. "What do you think?"

You're happy--the kind of happy that makes your cheeks ache. You're almost sad that you're only here for a week. This is the kind of place that you could stay forever, you think. All the old pictures and worn furniture and home-cooking--you love it. Being here feels like being the closest to Bob you've ever been and you want to stay in that feeling.

As you trace your fingers across a model of something called the Imperial Class Star Destroyer, you smile. There's not even a speck of dust on it--his mama cares enough to take care of the things he treasures.

"Mmm," you start, sitting on the edge of his twin bed with a tired smile. "I think I'm in love with your parents."

Bob laughs, coming forward to gently cup your cheeks. You lean into him, pressing your face into his smoky shirt, basking in the comfort his fingers invoke in your being as he carefully strokes your hair.

"And they love you right back," he whispers. "Knew they would, honey."

You hum, eyes fluttering shut.

"Let's stay forever," you yawn, cheeks flushed.

Bob's heart is so big right now that he thinks it might explode out of his body. He never thought this would happen ever--the girl of his dreams sitting in his nerdy bedroom and letting her fingernails gently graze the soft skin of his thighs as he holds her close. Quite frankly, he feels like the past four years have been an absolute daydream. But this--this is just perfect.

He says your name softly and you just hum in response, half-asleep sitting up.

"I'm so glad I stole that honey from you," he whispers.

You laugh. He holds you tighter.

"And I'm so glad you found me at the pickle stand."

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

[sicknessbysalem]

i will never not love making new characters.

black cat lesbian x golden retriever gay friendship my beloved.

anyway, you know the drill!

if you have any REQUESTS (please), Comments, or Concerns: MY ASK BOX IS OPEN!!

tw for emeto, sickness, friends bullying each other (including but not limited to gay jokes), objectively inappropriate jokes

Saylor Thompson leaned against the closed door of the stall farthest from the door on the first floor of one of the men’s dormitories on the quiet art school campus. She brushed violently bangs behind her ear, scrolling through her phone as she tapped her foot on the floor.

It was almost silent. There was nobody else in here. Nobody except for her and Julian, on the other side of the door. Every so often, Saylor heard a dry heave or a sick belch, something unproductive. It had been like this for almost an hour. Thankfully it was Saturday. The dorms were open until later that evening. But, surprisingly, activity was low on campus.

"Let’s see what our favorite news source has to say today, yeah?" she asked, chuckling.

“Sure,” she heard Julian say through nauseous panting.

She took her lollipop out of her mouth. Sure it wasn’t exactly sanitary to have such a thing, but she didn’t really give a fuck.

She hummed softly, stopping words in her mouth as Julian heaved again. She heard a slight splatter into the bowl.

“Anything interesting?” Saylor asked.

“Spit,” Julian mumbled, “Again.”

“Are you sure you have to throw up? I mean you’ve-“ Saylor started.

Julian retched, this time she could hear something more substantial splash into the toilet.

“Huh, guess you did,” She shrugged, going back to her phone to find the latest unhinged fashion commentary she could find. Something to distract him.

This was how their relationship worked. If Julian was sick, she read him shitty fashion articles. If she was sick, he would read her random fun facts he could find or read true crime articles to her. It worked.

“Here, listen to this,” She rolled her eyes, tone dripping with sarcasm, "this so called 'expert' thinks that neon colors are going to be the next big thing in professional attire. Can you imagine walking into a boardroom looking like a human highlighter?" She paused, listening for any response from the stall behind her.

“Depends on the complexion and hair color of the person,” Julian answered, “Some people look best in neon.”

Saylor snorted. "Yeah, right. Because nothing screams 'take me seriously' like blinding everyone with your neon ensemble."

Julian managed a weak chuckle. "Just trying to see the bright side...literally. Besides, you’re like the queen of self expression. Shouldn’t neon colors be enticin-“

Saylor sighed softly as his words were cut off by another, slightly weaker retch.

When that stopped, she continued, "Okay, here's another gem. 'This season, oversized hats are making a comeback. Perfect for those who want to block out the haters or just the sun.' Seriously? Who writes this stuff?"

Julian's laughter was interrupted by another wave of nausea. Saylor heard him moan shakily, heard him move a bit closer to the toilet. Saylor's eyes flicked to the stall door, her fingers tightening around her phone. She felt useless standing out here, but barging in wouldn't help either. This was the best she could do.

Just then, the bathroom door creaked open, and an older student, clearly annoyed, stepped in. His eyes narrowed when he saw Saylor. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

“Reading the news, hanging out,” Saylor shrugged, not looking at the other student. “Helping a friend.”

“This is a men’s restroom,” The guy said, “You don’t qualify.”

Saylor looked up from her phone then, narrowing her eyes and making a point to look the other student up and down, lingering on his crotch area with a snort.

“Yeah, I don’t think you qualify either,” Saylor scoffed, “My girlfriend’s strap is more packed than what you have to offer. And she is far more attractive. So, trust me, nothing in here is going to bother me. And if it bothers you that I’m here for my friend, well, that's your problem. I’m not here for you."

“Well what if I have to-“

“There’s another bathroom down the hall,” Saylor said, “Or you could man up and take a piss, trust me, I’m not looking. Nothing to look at anyway.”

The guy's face turned a deep shade of red, and he opened his mouth as if to argue, but thought better of it and stormed out.

Julian's weak laughter followed his exit. "You always know how to make an impression, Saylor."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, feeling a strange mix of pride and discomfort. She was used to pushing people away, but with Julian, it was different. "Just focus on getting better, okay? I don't need you keeling over on me."

"Working on it," Julian mumbled, his voice barely audible. Saylor could hear the strain in his words, the underlying pain that made her chest tighten uncomfortably.

“How’s your stomach holding up?” Saylor asked, locking her phone and tucking it in the pocket of her purple leather jeans.

“Not great,” Julian said, she heard him spit, a small whine escaping him just barely loud enough for her to hear.

Saylor leaned her head against the stall door, taking a deep breath. She knew Julian was tough, but hearing him in pain was tearing at her. She wasn't the nurturing type, but Julian had a way of making her want to be better, even if it was just for him.

“Hey, let me in,” she said, trying to sound casual.

There was a moment of hesitation before she heard the soft click of the lock. Saylor pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Julian was slumped on the floor, his usually bright eyes dulled with pain and exhaustion.

“You remember when I came into your dorm room after going to that stupid frat party?” Saylor asked, “And I was so drunk I threw up in the sink in your room?”

“Very much, yes,” Julian said. “Kev was pissed. Then he decided it was fine because he said you were hot puking your guts out and telling him off.”

“He was weird,” Saylor said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Julian said, “But what does you being drunk have to do with-“

“Stand up,” Saylor said, snapping her fingers and gesturing with her hand to get him to stand.

Julian nodded weakly, and with some effort, Saylor managed to get him on his feet. She positioned him over the toilet, keeping a firm grip on his waist. His body trembled, and she could feel the tension in his muscles.

“Okay, just let it out,” she murmured, pushing his hair out of his face. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Say, I don’t think that’ll help,” Julian told her, “I’ve been in here for-“

“Sitting on the floor,” Saylor said, “Just trust me.”

Julian leaned over the toilet, and Saylor applied gentle pressure to his stomach, hoping it would help speed up the process. It didn’t take long for him to start retching again, his body convulsing with each wave of nausea.

He heaved, Saylor’s touch making his stomach give in. A thick wave of vomit rushed out of him, splashing into the toilet.

“That's it, just let it out,” Saylor said, her voice softer than usual. “You're doing great.”

Julian groaned, the sound turning into a guttural retch as another round of vomit hit the toilet.

Saylor held him steady, her grip firm but comforting. She continued to talk to him, her voice a mix of sarcastic banter and genuine concern.

“You know, you could have just skipped the cafeteria food. It’s not like they serve gourmet meals here,” she said, trying to distract him.

Julian managed a weak laugh between bouts of vomiting. “Thanks...for the advice.”

“Anytime,” Saylor replied, brushing a few stray hairs from his forehead. “You know, next time you decide to get sick, maybe give me a heads-up. I could bring better reading material.”

Julian leaned heavily against her, his breathing ragged. “I’ll...keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Saylor said, tightening her grip around his waist. “Now, let's get this over with. The sooner you're done, the sooner we can get you back to bed.”

She moved, standing behind him, arms wrapped around his waist as she squeezed him tight. The tighter she squeezed, the more vomit rushed out of Julian’s stomach.

Julian continued to heave, each round of vomiting more forceful than the last. Saylor kept him upright, her presence a steady anchor. She could feel his exhaustion, the way his body sagged against her, but she didn't let go.

“Almost there, Jules,” she said softly. “Just a little more.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Julian's retching subsided. He leaned heavily against Saylor, his breathing slow and labored. She held him for a moment longer, making sure he was steady before gently easing him back down to sit on the floor.

“There you go,” she said, wiping his face with a damp paper towel. “Feeling any better?”

Julian nodded weakly. “Yeah...a little.”

“Good,” Saylor said, offering him a small smile. “Because I’m not doing this again. You owe me, big time.”

Julian smiled faintly, his eyes closing as he leaned his head against the cool tile wall. “I know. Thanks, Saylor.”

“Anytime, idiot,” she replied, her voice softening. “Now, let's get you back to your room. You need to rest.”

She supported his weight as they slowly made their way out of the bathroom. Saylor's heart ached seeing Julian so vulnerable, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t normal.

Saylor would never admit it, but it made her worried.

-

Julian's dorm room was a small but cozy space, filled with soft hues and warm blankets and decorated with his various artworks and fashion sketches pinned on the walls. He had some of the cutest lights above his bed, stars they looked like.

“God,” Saylor said, “Your room looks every bit as gay as you are.”

Julian chuckled softly. “You say that like your room doesn’t look like you’re ready to smash the next poor soul of a pretty girl with big tits that ends up being your roommate.”

The faint hum of a lo-fi playlist played softly in the background, providing a calm atmosphere despite the circumstances.

Julian laid down, flopping on his bed, a cold sweat glistening on his forehead. His usually bright eyes were dull and heavy with discomfort.

Saylor rolled her eyes and grabbed one of Julian’s wash cloths, running it under the cool water of sink in the corner of the room, just big enough to brush your teeth and get ready in the morning.

She walked over and wiped off his face, “You are pathetic. Looking all sick and disgusting.”

“You need to fix your hair, it’s messy and you look like a rejected one night stand,” Julian teased her back.

That was their relationship. Bullying each other with a kind smile. That was how they showed affection.

Saylor unfolded the wash cloth and covered Julian’s face with it.

Saylor, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed, glanced over at him with a mixture of concern and affection. She reached for the water bottle on the nightstand and got up to hand it to him.

“Here, pretty boy, drink some more water,” Saylor said. “You need to stay hydrated."

Julian took the bottle with a weak smile, his hands trembling slightly as he took a small sip. "Thanks, Saylor. I don't know what's wrong with me today."

"You probably ate something bad, or you got some frat house flu, I know you love making your rounds there,” Saylor said, trying to keep the mood light.

She picked up one of his fashion sketches from the floor and examined it. "Hey, this one's pretty cool. When are you going to make me a custom jacket, huh?"

Julian chuckled weakly. "Soon, I promise. As soon as I can hold a needle without feeling like I'm going to pass out."

Saylor grinned and ruffled his hair. "Good. You better keep that promise, or I'll never let you live it down."

“Well if I die first, then what?” Julian asked.

“I’ll bring you back, I’m not going through this shit show alone,” Saylor scoffed.

“Any fun and interesting gossip with the girls?” Julian asked her.

Saylor shrugged, sitting on the windowsill, before she started recounting the latest campus gossip. "So, I overheard some real juicy drama in the art building today, before your homie Jackson told me you were spilling chunks in the bathroom and I should probably come terrorize you for him since he’d throw up if he heard you throw up.”

“Well then you could just take care of both of us,” Julian said, “Your bedside manner is impeccable.”

Saylor laughed, “Anyway, you know that pretentious guy, Ethan, from my painting class? Well, turns out he got caught making out with one of the janitors. Can you believe it? All that holier-than-thou attitude, and he's sneaking around like a lovesick teenager."

Julian managed a faint laugh, though it was clear he was still feeling miserable. "Ethan? Really? That's... unexpected."

"Right?" Saylor said, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "And get this—when he got caught, he tried to say they were just 'discussing art.' Yeah, sure, Ethan. Because everyone discusses art with their tongues down each other's throats."

Julian shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips despite his discomfort. "You're terrible, Saylor."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, I'm just telling it like it is. Anyway, enough about him. How are you feeling now? Any better?"

Julian sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Not really. My stomach still feels like it's doing somersaults."

Saylor's expression softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Hang in there, okay? I don’t want to be the bitch friend of the guy who let some frat flu win."

“Never, sweetheart,” Julian said, “You’re just a bitch.”

“Being a bitch is more fun,” Saylor shrugged.

Just then, Julian's face contorted with a sudden wave of nausea. He sat up quickly, clutching his stomach. "Saylor, I think I need to—"

Without another word, Saylor sprang into action, grabbing the small trash bin from beside the desk and holding it out for him just in time. Julian retched, his body trembling with the effort. Saylor stayed by his side, one hand on his back, offering a steadying presence.

"It's okay, Jules," she murmured softly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. "Just let it out. I'm here."

After a few agonizing moments, Julian finally stopped, breathing heavily. He leaned back, exhausted and pale. Saylor handed him a tissue to wipe his mouth and offered him another sip of water.

"Thanks," Julian whispered, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry you have to see this."

Saylor shook her head firmly. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm your best friend. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else."

She settled back down, resuming her casual chatter to distract him once more. "So, back to Ethan... Can you imagine the look on Professor Green's face when she found out? Priceless. Absolutely priceless."

As she continued to weave tales of campus gossip and amusing anecdotes, Julian couldn't help but feel a little better, knowing that no matter how sick he felt, Saylor would always be there to make his life… far more interesting.

[bunneclair]

I have something for you guys ….

here are my redesigns of the four known 7 deadly sins from the hellaverse! I’ll go in order explaining.

Here’s Lucifer — the adjustments I made were primarily to his hair and smaller features, such as giving him goat eyes, a snake themed cane, and pulling more classical and biblical inspiration forward. I love a lot of the artistic liberties in the Hellaverse designs but I do think that him being a curly-redhead is a pretty important thing that I hated to see left out of his design. I also gave him hooves and claws because I felt like he was a bit too human compared to the other sins, and wanted to make him stand out a bit more!

Next is Asmodeus! My main focus was to make it more evident which sin he represented — while I love Ozzie’s design, I felt like his color palette could be slightly more representing of the sin of lust, so I shifted toward warmer toned colors such as red and purple, while sacrificing the green and blue. I wanted to bring across more gender-fluidity since lust is something I think it is important to represent through various gendered lenses and so I went for the whole upper-half masculine lower-half feminine thing that you see here with a vest+button up and a long slit skirt! I also wanted to show more heart motifs that appear to be evident in ironically all of lust and its inhabitants besides Ozzie most of the time, and so I curved his tail and head feathers in a way that made heart shapes, and I placed Bull and Ram in a way where they’re more visible and stand out more so as their own little entities since it’s implied they’re separately sentient.

My girl Beelzebub! I LOVE her design, but I do feel like it leans heavier toward hellhound (and fox somewhat) and not enough toward her insect features, so I gave her Bee stripes as well as putting more emphasis and effort into her wings. I kept the multicolored lava lamp hair and belly but made an extra effort to highlight the gold in it to emphasize the honey/bee theme, while also placing this texture in other places such as her paws and inner-ears. I also gave her a honeycomb crown, and more loose-fitting flowy clothing to display her fun and laid-back nature, while referencing her bee themes again by adding a yellow gradient meant to mimic pollen that gets stuck on bees during their pollination process. I also gave her the funky bug eyes :) anddd sorry but I took away the mohawk, it just felt too cluttered for me to draw among other things.

Here’s Mammon! I may be biased but I love his design so much already that it was difficult to change a whole lot. However, I did find things that I wanted to change. For one, you may notice there are hat and no-hat versions of Mammon here, and that’s because I wanted to display the broken imp-like horns I gave him. In biblical mythology, Mammon often disguised himself as someone who was poor or in need so that he would be able to garner profit from pity, and I think that there is no better way to represent that than ripping off his favorite little brand-baby. I edited a lot of the black in his color palette to be gold instead, as well as adding gold to the fingertips of his gloves as a reference to Midas’ touch. I gave him more of a spider-like appearance since according to a lot of the fandom his species is fairly ambiguous, and I made his shirt (or whatever you call that lol) a bit shorter and less cluttered because I often struggled with drawing it. I also attempted to adjust his proportions a bit as I feel like the designs for the fat characters in Helluva and Hazbin often struggle a bit with proportions and it feels important to me to better represent them.

That’s all I got, but I also created my own takes on the sins that haven’t been revealed yet, which may end up being one of my next posts! I’m doing my best to stay active in the art community and this media has given me some motivation and fuel. Any input is welcome as long as we stay positive ❤��

Reminder as well that my commissions are very open!

[killercooksblog]

KillerCook Baking Challenge

Howdy - In celebration of starting this blog, I present a challenge! If you've read the book, you'll know the first chapter was about BROWNIES! AKA the best dessert ever, probably. I'll post it below so if you have no idea what I'm talking about you can catch up and participate!

I love a good brownie, and I think everyone has their own unique way of baking goods that makes the recipe special in its own way! Yes, even box mix, cause I know not everyone is following those instructions all the time. If you're a raw batter eater, you're amongst safe company!

The challenge: I want you to make a pan of brownies with you're own secret ingredient that makes it *chef's kiss.* To participate, you gotta submit a pic of your brownie platter to my submissions or ask box by 3:00 PM EST Saturday, June 8th. Additionally, you need to submit a summary of the flavor and texture of your recipe, without saying the name of your secret ingredient.

For example: in my double mint chocolate brownies chapter, I would summarize it as - a dulcet double layer of cacao richness that's not too cakey and not too moist, that will leave you with a fresh and happy ending.

Or something like that. Get creative! I wanna rate your brownies! I'll be playing along too and for the sake of it, I won't be doing mint chips so I can leave y'all guessing too ;)

With the camera set in place, Killer dusted his apron and straightened his helmet one last time before pressing the ‘Go Live’ button, muttering a quick, "It's show time," under his breath.

“Hello, Killer here,” raising a hand in the air, the quarter sleeve of his dress shirt rolled neatly on his forearm. “Time for another day of relaxing vibes and delicious desserts. Today, I’m making Double Chocolate Mint Brownies. I love a goody, gooey brownie, especially when there’s mini chocolate chips and ganache involved.”

As he spoke the well-rehearsed introduction, Killer wandered around the kitchen pulling out mixing tools and fixing himself a glass of bubble milk tea, congregating on the island countertop. Oven already preheated, eggs and butter on standby and at room temperature. Slurping up a tapioca ball, he paused for a minute while he chewed.

“Mm, ‘scuse me, didn’t expect that one to come up all the way. Tasty. Moving on, you know my number one motto: A clean and sterile working environment is best when dealing with things you intend to eat. And please, enough with the Jason Vorhees jokes, my mask looks nothing like his. I’m trying to make a name for myself as an independent serial killer……of hunger and all your hearts,” he brought his hands together to make a heart shape for the audience.

The ping of a microtransaction being made caught Killer’s attention, leaning close to his phone. Someone had bought and redeemed a highlighted message, and it was one of those moments he wished he hadn’t added that incentive, now being forced to read and answer it live.

“MurderinoSquadAssemble has this to say – ‘a serial killer of hunger and OUR hearts? Seems sus but ok. #redflagbehavior.’ Calm down armchair detective. For the record, I haven’t been caught yet and it won’t be to the likes of you.”

Biting down a chuckle, Killer stepped back to put on plastic gloves, a baking hat, and his favorite apron. It was a faded blue color but what really made it endearing for him, was the print.

That’s Hot

It had a small whisk and measuring spoons sprawled on the bottom, and the capital T had a baker’s hat falling off it. Underneath the text, a stovetop on fire. A gift from Kid on his 25th birthday.

Smiling privately, Killer turned to give the audience his side profile as he tied the apron strings. His dress shirt clung to his muscled arms, threatening to burst if he flexed too hard. His ass looked firm and thick in the dark chino relaxed pants he wore.

Prepping the baking tray, Killer explained the ingredients he was using and his choices for alternatives. He preferred to use ethically sourced chocolate and tapioca flour instead of all-purpose flour. He used vegan butter but liked to brown it first to caramelize a bit before combining it to the batter.

“This flour is what I used to make the tapioca pearls for my milk tea in my 14th video. It’s still up if you want to check it out and give it some love,” he poured the batter into the pans.

Turning around completely, he walked to the oven to place the pan on the middle rack. Killer didn’t need to bend down as much as he did to place the pan inside. He also didn’t need to jut his hips backwards a little to make his butt look bigger on camera, but it was nice hearing the pings echoing in the kitchen as he was gifted with tips and praise. Not that he’d admit that to anyone of course.

Killer turned the volume of his Bluetooth speaker louder, enjoying the lofi channel playlist he chose for the day’s stream. It was hard to find good music these days, not with a DMCA lawsuit one flagged video away.

“You can find where I use the same ingredients for the pre-made mint filling layer in my 20th video, when I made my homemade No-reos.”

Underneath the kitchen island countertop was a small red button that Killer pushed. That was the alarm indicator Kid had installed to notify the redhead that it was time for him stop what he was doing, get dressed, and join the video for the taste test.

Hoping beyond hope that Kid would be wearing the clothes Killer laid out for him, the masked man entertained the audience. Acknowledging the redeemed gifts, answering comments and questions and taking a much needed bathroom break. Letting the ads run a bit longer to milk the revenue, Killer stood at the doorway waiting for Kid to make an appearance. Asshole was running late, unbelievable. HE WANTED to be in the live streams, Killer didn’t ask him to be a part of it.

Shaking his head, he sat down in front of the camera, preparing to be KillerCook once more. The oven had three minutes left on the timer and the smell of chocolate wafted. The stream continuing, he began whisking the ganache to pour over the brownies.

Killer heard Kid walking through the hallway as he whisked. Bursting through the door, shirtless, his golden piercings that littered his nipples, nose bridge and ears shined from the open kitchen windows that showed a beautiful sunny day outside.

Timer going off, Killer fumbled to the back while hissing out, “Put a fucking shirt on! Why do you do this every time?!”

“C’mon Kill, they’re not gonna ban you for male nipples, be real.”

“Not risking it, we’re already on thin ice for using copyright music after 2 warnings. Remember? That’s how you lost Your Job as the video editor. Put on a shirt or I pull the plug.”

Angrily swearing, Kid walked back through the door to find a shirt.

“The last step is pouring the ganache over the mint layer and spreading it evenly for a smooth coating. Then you’ll want to store it in the fridge to let the top layer set. This will take up to an hour or you can keep it in longer until you’re ready to eat.”

Cutting into the pan to prepare a square for Kid, the masked baker placed both the pan and the taste test piece in the fridge. Killer once again entertained the audience for the 5 minutes it took for Kid to come back, in a ruffled black vest that was unbuttoned. Killer pulled out a chair for him and went to retrieve the taste test square, placing it on the table in front of Kid.

Coming into view of the camera with an annoyed pout on his face, Kid shot a sneer at Killer before tightening his jaw and looking directly into the lens.

“Alright, now the reason you’re all really here. To watch me eat shit you can’t have and look hot doing it.”

Standing straight, he stuck out his right arm and flexed, slowly moving it down with deliberate motions that further focused on his bulging muscles instead of the baked good. Bringing it to his face, Kid licked his maroon painted lips before taking a bite with a grin. Letting out an approving grunt.

“How’s it taste?”

“Tastes damn good, brother,” Kid responded, biting into the brownie again.

“Can you uh elaborate some more for the audience?”

“It’s chocolate, tastes like chocolate,” he grunted out in between bites.

Sighing deeply, “Does the texture feel balanced? Is it too dry? Can you even taste the mint I added with the chocolate chips?”

Licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth with the back of hand, Kid shrugged. “Tastes perfect. Like any good brownie should be, it’s moist,” devilish smirk on his face and he faced the camera.

Feeling Killer’s serious as fuck glare through the mask, “Yeah yeah you can taste the mint. It doesn’t overwhelm the chocolate but it wasn’t overstated either. Like a little nudge wanting acknowledgment.”

“And there you have it, moist and acknowledged. Tune in next time when I make one of my favorite dishes, Spaghetti aglio e olio. It’s simple to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End Livestream.

Killer lifted his baker’s hat, helmet and took his hairnet off, pulling his hair from the tight wound rubber elastic he’d put it in.

“One of these days you’re going to get me banned, dickwad. Think about that the next time you want to fuck around. All those comments of praise and validation gone just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “Because you can’t stop being a dumb whore for 5 minutes.”

“I’m a whore?! Oh stuff a brownie in yer mouth and calm down. You’re not you when you’re hangry,” Kid snickered, ducking out of the kitchen to avoid the stainless-steel bowls flung at him.

Bonus: The comment section

ICantEven101: Killer-san, why won’t my sauce stick to my noodles? KillerCook: You may be using too much oil or butter. A good trick is to add in pasta water to thicken the sauce. Corn starch is a good binder as well.

VanillyExtract: PunkNeverDied69 can I take you on a date? 🥺 PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes.

GimmeDa’Za: Day 15 of asking for a Heat cameo and dutch oven pizzas. FlamingHot420: Why are you people obsessed with me? I walked into the kitchen ONE TIME.

[luketaluketa]

i was organizing some files and found all the wip stuff from the previous secret samol for @/seamonsterart (go check out their work!), and these are two of my favorite illustrations ever, so here's some insight into how i made these!

for starters i already had a pretty much finished design for pickman that i had first drawn back in 2021

she has a completely wrong gun in this version because i did not remember how it was supposed to look like and couldn't find a description of it anywhere. she's wearing a hat because i forgot it was supposed to be a helm and so i ended up giving her the large hat just because the long horns coming through it are a fun image, though today i cannot imagine her wearing anything else. she already has the sword she takes from the lake skeletons, also. her armor is based on the armor the torumekian soldiers and kushana wear in nausicaa of the valley of the wind, with the incredible neck guard and long cape covering their entire body

i've always loved these designs and how the plates are evocative of insects, but also how mysterious they look with covered faces and bodies. matter of fact, at this point i had no fucking idea what pickman looked like below the cape.

the second inspiration is the young man from angel's egg.

OK, STAY WITH ME. i cannot explain this other that in my head pickman and him are VERY similar characters. the image of the half pulled cape while he holds his sword-cross-thing over his shoulder and the quiet demeanor are pretty fundamental to how i try to make pickman FEEL. i actually wanted her armor to have more piping, pulling from the biomechanical appearance of his sword-cross, but it didn't feel quite right

and the third inspiration is less inspiration and more reference work, the book "arms & armor, a pictorial archive" by carol grafton

it's a compilation of illustration works sourced from several books from the 19th century. VERY cool book to take a look at historical armor. it's on the internet archive for free!

there was also a fair ammount of looking at goats and sheep, but eventually i reached this after learning i suck at drawing furry designs. big shoutout to the furry community for making so many tutorials available btw. in highlight a very important study of the character.

now that i kinda knew what pickman looked like i entered the wonderful phase of "i don't know what the fuck i'm doing" which resulted in a bunch of bad doodles now sitting in a folder dubbed "dev hell". at this point i kinda had an idea for a relaxed scene based on one of the prompts, which i developed for a while on blender but eventually gave up on.

i then moved on to the second prompt, of pickman being badass. i decided on a low angle to make pickman look incredibly tall but the low angle of a goat's head legitimately kicked my ass so i eventually made a goat head on blender and used it to generate references with the help of designdoll. here i made her design a lot more muscular and fat, also, eventually coming to her final design.

the valve on her chestplate looks WRONG to me now, but at the time i was so tired i just rolled with it. the first pass of her armor was in a completely wrong color, which i corrected later on photoshop. i added the little metal forks pulling from her 2021 design, and the idea of little musical forks for atunning to the shape was cool to me. i also corrected her gun after actually learning what the fuck it was supposed to look like. i already knew i wanted her to be standing on the field of canola flowers, and the sky in the background was the last thing i added, also the time when i decided to really make the picture tall.

i liked the final result so much i went back and started working on the first prompt again. had a horrible time drawing the horns in the second image which led to this hell cage for building the perspective. im still not confident on the horns on the side of the head. i wanted to bring the atmosphere of a cold winter or fall morning in the second one, and to make pickman seem tired but relaxed. i overall like the second picture a lot more than the first and was very happy with how it came out.

AND THAT'S HOW THE SAUSAGE IS MADE I GUESS. if you read this whole thing then thank you for your time!

[swampstew]

KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight's story. Rated Mature for language.

Killer is a TikTok content creator recording cooking and baking videos, and Eustass Kid is his taste tester. These are there shenanigans. This series was entirely inspired by Instagram Star - Justinsaiyann - a very good looking and buff baker who shows off his skills and glutes in the kitchen. Written to star the Kid Pirates in a modern setting.

With the camera set in place, Killer dusted his apron and straightened his helmet one last time before pressing the ‘Go Live’ button, muttering a quick, "It's show time," under his breath.

“Hello, Killer here,” raising a hand in the air, the quarter sleeve of his dress shirt rolled neatly on his forearm. “Time for another day of relaxing vibes and delicious desserts. Today, I’m making Double Chocolate Mint Brownies. I love a goody, gooey brownie, especially when there’s mini chocolate chips and ganache involved.”

As he spoke the well-rehearsed introduction, Killer wandered around the kitchen pulling out mixing tools and fixing himself a glass of bubble milk tea, congregating on the island countertop. Oven already preheated, eggs and butter on standby and at room temperature. Slurping up a tapioca ball, he paused for a minute while he chewed.

“Mm, ‘scuse me, didn’t expect that one to come up all the way. Tasty. Moving on, you know my number one motto: A clean and sterile working environment is best when dealing with things you intend to eat. And please, enough with the Jason Vorhees jokes, my mask looks nothing like his. I’m trying to make a name for myself as an independent serial killer……of hunger and all your hearts,” he brought his hands together to make a heart shape for the audience.

The ping of a microtransaction being made caught Killer’s attention, leaning close to his phone. Someone had bought and redeemed a highlighted message, and it was one of those moments he wished he hadn’t added that incentive, now being forced to read and answer it live.

“MurderinoSquadAssemble has this to say – ‘a serial killer of hunger and OUR hearts? Seems sus but ok. #redflagbehavior.’ Calm down armchair detective. For the record, I haven’t been caught yet and it won’t be to the likes of you.”

Biting down a chuckle, Killer stepped back to put on plastic gloves, a baking hat, and his favorite apron. It was a faded blue color but what really made it endearing for him, was the print.

That’s Hot

It had a small whisk and measuring spoons sprawled on the bottom, and the capital T had a baker’s hat falling off it. Underneath the text, a stovetop on fire. A gift from Kid on his 25th birthday.

Smiling privately, Killer turned to give the audience his side profile as he tied the apron strings. His dress shirt clung to his muscled arms, threatening to burst if he flexed too hard. His ass looked firm and thick in the dark chino relaxed pants he wore.

Prepping the baking tray, Killer explained the ingredients he was using and his choices for alternatives. He preferred to use ethically sourced chocolate and tapioca flour instead of all-purpose flour. He used vegan butter but liked to brown it first to caramelize a bit before combining it to the batter.

“This flour is what I used to make the tapioca pearls for my milk tea in my 14th video. It’s still up if you want to check it out and give it some love,” he poured the batter into the pans.

Turning around completely, he walked to the oven to place the pan on the middle rack. Killer didn’t need to bend down as much as he did to place the pan inside. He also didn’t need to jut his hips backwards a little to make his butt look bigger on camera, but it was nice hearing the pings echoing in the kitchen as he was gifted with tips and praise. Not that he’d admit that to anyone of course.

Killer turned the volume of his Bluetooth speaker louder, enjoying the lofi channel playlist he chose for the day’s stream. It was hard to find good music these days, not with a DMCA lawsuit one flagged video away.

“You can find where I use the same ingredients for the pre-made mint filling layer in my 20th video, when I made my homemade No-reos.”

Underneath the kitchen island countertop was a small red button that Killer pushed. That was the alarm indicator Kid had installed to notify the redhead that it was time for him stop what he was doing, get dressed, and join the video for the taste test.

Hoping beyond hope that Kid would be wearing the clothes Killer laid out for him, the masked man entertained the audience. Acknowledging the redeemed gifts, answering comments and questions and taking a much needed bathroom break. Letting the ads run a bit longer to milk the revenue, Killer stood at the doorway waiting for Kid to make an appearance. Asshole was running late, unbelievable. HE WANTED to be in the live streams, Killer didn’t ask him to be a part of it.

Shaking his head, he sat down in front of the camera, preparing to be KillerCook once more. The oven had three minutes left on the timer and the smell of chocolate wafted. The stream continuing, he began whisking the ganache to pour over the brownies.

Killer heard Kid walking through the hallway as he whisked. Bursting through the door, shirtless, his golden piercings that littered his nipples, nose bridge and ears shined from the open kitchen windows that showed a beautiful sunny day outside.

Timer going off, Killer fumbled to the back while hissing out, “Put a fucking shirt on! Why do you do this every time?!”

“C’mon Kill, they’re not gonna ban you for male nipples, be real.”

“Not risking it, we’re already on thin ice for using copyright music after 2 warnings. Remember? That’s how you lost Your Job as the video editor. Put on a shirt or I pull the plug.”

Angrily swearing, Kid walked back through the door to find a shirt.

“The last step is pouring the ganache over the mint layer and spreading it evenly for a smooth coating. Then you’ll want to store it in the fridge to let the top layer set. This will take up to an hour or you can keep it in longer until you’re ready to eat.”

Cutting into the pan to prepare a square for Kid, the masked baker placed both the pan and the taste test piece in the fridge. Killer once again entertained the audience for the 5 minutes it took for Kid to come back, in a ruffled black vest that was unbuttoned. Killer pulled out a chair for him and went to retrieve the taste test square, placing it on the table in front of Kid.

Coming into view of the camera with an annoyed pout on his face, Kid shot a sneer at Killer before tightening his jaw and looking directly into the lens.

“Alright, now the reason you’re all really here. To watch me eat shit you can’t have and look hot doing it.”

Standing straight, he stuck out his right arm and flexed, slowly moving it down with deliberate motions that further focused on his bulging muscles instead of the baked good. Bringing it to his face, Kid licked his maroon painted lips before taking a bite with a grin. Letting out an approving grunt.

“How’s it taste?”

“Tastes damn good, brother,” Kid responded, biting into the brownie again.

“Can you uh elaborate some more for the audience?”

“It’s chocolate, tastes like chocolate,” he grunted out in between bites.

Sighing deeply, “Does the texture feel balanced? Is it too dry? Can you even taste the mint I added with the chocolate chips?”

Licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth with the back of hand, Kid shrugged. “Tastes perfect. Like any good brownie should be, it’s moist,” devilish smirk on his face and he faced the camera.

Feeling Killer’s serious as fuck glare through the mask, “Yeah yeah you can taste the mint. It doesn’t overwhelm the chocolate but it wasn’t overstated either. Like a little nudge wanting acknowledgment.”

“And there you have it, moist and acknowledged. Tune in next time when I make one of my favorite dishes, Spaghetti aglio e olio. It’s simple to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End Livestream.

Killer lifted his baker’s hat, helmet and took his hairnet off, pulling his hair from the tight wound rubber elastic he’d put it in.

“One of these days you’re going to get me banned, dickwad. Think about that the next time you want to fuck around. All those comments of praise and validation gone just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “Because you can’t stop being a dumb whore for 5 minutes.”

“I’m a whore?! Oh stuff a brownie in yer mouth and calm down. You’re not you when you’re hangry,” Kid snickered, ducking out of the kitchen to avoid the stainless-steel bowls flung at him.

Bonus: The comment section

ICantEven101: Killer-san, why won’t my sauce stick to my noodles? KillerCook: You may be using too much oil or butter. A good trick is to add in pasta water to thicken the sauce. Corn starch is a good binder as well.

VanillyExtract: PunkNeverDied69 can I take you on a date? 🥺 PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes.

GimmeDa’Za: Day 15 of asking for a Heat cameo and dutch oven pizzas. FlamingHot420: Why are you people obsessed with me? I walked into the kitchen ONE TIME.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[eminsunnytoons123]

The muppets Show: Life in the boarding home

Things you may or may not noticed in my muppets characters redesigns!

Disclaimer: i'll even Make more parts of these, but for now i wanna share this with all my besties/Sisters And brothers/pen pals And all other muppet fans

Okay! Soo... Heres some things i wanted to Show you some details in my muppets characters redesigns that you may or may not have notice =^_^=

Lets start!:

Number 1: Kermit actually has webbed Hind hands like an normal frog, but you cant see it because he is wearing gloves, he might even have webbed Hind feet because he clearly IS a frog

Number 2: fozzie has lighter palms, i dont know how i came up with this idea but i thought it suits him very well

Number 3: Lips actually has heterochromia, like two different eye colors, but others cant see it because his eyes are almost ALWAYS closed, but the first person except for his mother, sister and Grandma to see it, are dr teeth And the electric Mayhem

Number 4: Walter has blonde highlights over his Brown hair, he did not dye it, those are his actual highlights (in my AU.)

Number 5: miss mousey has black-blonde hair, but her actual hair color is blonde but she puted a little blonde-yellow color over it

Number 6: Zoot's feather on his hat represents the colors of the bisexual flag, And he is one of the current muppets to Show his sexuality through his clothes, the other few being gonzo, Rizzo, Clifford, Lindbergh, digit, Janice, Skeeter, cliffster And beard

I hope y'all liked these! I'll maybe make more tommorow =^///^=

Oh! And i'll give all of the muppets surnames! But there are some muppets who already have surnames, And those are:

• Marvin suggs, Johnny fiama, sal minella, Lew Zealand, miss piggy (piggy Lee), Floyd pepper, dr teeth (Gerald teeth jr), dr bunsen honeydew, dr Julius strangepork, link hogthrob, Mildred huxetetter, zelda rose, dr Phil van neuter...

And i'll give the other muppets surnames! Even tho most of them have "the" in the middle but still =^_^=

And yes, thats me holding Kermit's hand in the first Doodle =^///^=