#luckily the first upload didnt have like any notes

[ketunhanska]

hello i am here to spread the good lawlu word of the fic Acclimating by @justira (reupload bc i had to fix something orz)

[sweetcatmintea]

Atlas meets Ivan - Drabble

So, I haven’t got any new pictures for you guys, have a short drabble instead. It was a gift for @babydollneko but she said I could upload it here too :)

Moonlight filtered through the thin clouds overhead illuminating speckles drifting through the late-night air. Hard shingles stole the warmth through Atlas’ shirt, prompting shivers. He lazily took note of his leg dangling over the musty gutter pipe. A clean was long over due but the negligence was understandable, it was no simple task to clean the top of a three-story house. Hoisting himself into a sitting position, Atlas stretched his arms in front of him until there was a satisfying crack.

He wasn’t sure how long his nap had lasted but he felt refreshed enough. It was late afternoon when the summer heat left him lazing about, but that didn’t mean much to him. He had also been sprawled on Lady Clara’s ornate lounge, enjoying the firmness of the well-maintained upholstery and the gentle breeze tussling his bangs.  To find himself waking on the roof of an unknown building in an unknown street was not how he expected the day to go. Surprising as it was, there was little mystery. Many an adventure in his youth was prompted by accidentally teleporting somewhere in his sleep. It was kind of like sleep walking, but with more stress for Lady Clara. He glanced at his wrist only to remember he had taken off his stylish purple gloves and accompanying compass cuff earlier in the day. This was going to make things more difficult. Oh well, no use sitting around worrying. Scaling down the building with relative ease, he decided to just explore for a little while. It’d be a shame to waste the opportunity. Lady Clara was forever scolding him for roaming around like some tom cat. ‘Come home straight away!’ she’d say. ‘You’re never where you’re supposed to be! Disappearing to who knows where whenever the fancy takes you! Honestly, it’s a wonder I haven’t locked the doors by now!’ Translated roughly, she meant ‘I worry when you disappear, so I want you to come straight back.’ Atlas grinned into his knuckles. She was a funny lady, but certainly good quality. He was an adult now – more or less – and she had relaxed some. It helped that he wasn’t under her constant care and supervision anymore. Still, he’d just have a little look around, then head back. Or, at least, a little look, then try to work out where he would be coming back from. His current location was less important than where he wanted to be, but knowing it would probably help.  Music pulsed faintly in the distance, a faint throb indicative of a nightclub type place. Given the back-alley vibes he was getting and the apparent late hour, the club would probably be inhabited primarily by drunks. Atlas sighed. He didn’t want to go amongst drunk people. It was probably the best bet for finding someone to ask his location. Ambling away, he put his money on the opposite direction. Going for the easiest route? Where was the adventure in that?

He must have been a fair way away from Lady Clara’s house. The wind carried a bite more tenacious than that of a summer. Atlas lamented the absence of his favourite dark grey coat. The fur trim, purple of course, was luxuriously soft and oh so fluffy. He really couldn’t complain though, years of waking up in unusual places ensured he was always reasonably covered when he rested. As funny as it would have been, he would not have appreciated exploring in only his boxers.

It wasn’t until the music had faded entirely, replaced with a cricket orchestra more suited to the country than such a populated area, that Atlas finally saw another person. A man, not much older than himself, busied himself opening the large roller doors of a … warehouse, maybe? The mechanisms made such a racket he didn’t notice Atlas approaching him. It was at this point Atlas realised he probably should have tried reading one of the street signs, he had no idea what the common language was here. Hoping it was one he knew, he cleared his throat, immediately catching the other man’s attention. Fabric spun and metal flashed. The knife stopping a mere finger’s width from Atlas’ skin. The two men appraised one another momentarily. This man, decidedly less harmless then Atlas first assumed, was slightly taller than him. His dark hair spiked from his head in organised chaos, complimented by a dark hoody and calculated grin. His teeth were clearly sharp, more so than Atlas’ unusually animalistic ones. Offering a placating smile, Atlas raised his palms to the man. He meant no harm. The switchblade returned to it’s hiding place in one smooth movement but remained at hand. The man’s posture relaxed, replaced with an easy confidence. Most reasonable people would be put off, intimidated even, by a man exuding danger and standing in front of a gaping maw of black. Unfortunately, Atlas was not a terribly reasonable person at times. ‘Foolish’ was almost a nickname at this point. He wasn’t stupid, but, out in the open as they were, he had many escape routes should things go sour. He lowered his hands, resting one in the pocket of his tailored shorts, and waving a greeting with the other. “What are you doing out here?” Ah, English. He knew that one. Lucky~ “Hello,” More accent than he would like, but good enough, “I got a little lost. Would you mind helping me? My name is Atlas, Atlas Mao.” The man tilted his head, lips pursed. “You’ve got cat ears.” It was a question in the form of a statement. “Yep.” He wiggled his ears for emphasis. The man’s grin grew. “Tail too. It was a matching set situation.” Even though he had kept it politely low, he was pretty sure the man had already noticed. The man’s hazel (maybe? It was hard to tell in the dark) eye’s glittered with excitement. “You don’t have … cat people here?” A shake of a head said no. That was unusual, he’d never been to a place where there were no Tainted people. Maybe he was even further than he thought. “Can I touch them?” “P-pardon?” “Your ears. I want to touch them.” The man reached out eagerly. There was a child-like enthusiasm that dampened the automatic ‘no’. Sighing inwardly, Atlas relented and nodded. That’s how he ended up being pet softly in the middle of the night by a very strange man. The plan to wait until his novelty had run its course and then find out where he was, was a bust. The enjoyment the man got appeared to be endless. Being told he was adorable was something he had gotten used to, it becomes necessary when your face becomes a brand, however having someone coo at him in the middle of the night was a bit much. An embarrassed flush crept up his neck as he put some distance between himself and the man. Luckily, he didn’t seem too disappointed, instead pointing out another of Atlas’ peculiarities. “You’re floating.” “Yeah. I don’t want to walk. The floor is really dirty, and my shoes are at home.” He wasn’t that high. Maybe a few inches off the ground. The man narrowed his eyes, considering Atlas again. “You’re not from here, are you?” Finally. He didn’t mind this man, he didn’t know him well enough to decide that he liked him yet, but it felt like some kind of backwards Alice in Wonderland scenario. Given he was the floating cat and all. He really couldn’t stay much longer, he’d promised Lady Clara he’d be in her photoshoot tomorrow. “No. I’m lost. Do you have a map and a compass I could borrow, uh…” “Ivan. You can call me Ivan.” He leaned in closer “I mean it call me.” Atlas didn’t know how to respond to either the wink or the playful nudge. “I’ve got those back home, but I gotta do something first.” He entered the abys of the warehouse, calling over his shoulder. “My cat got out, so I’ve gotta find him before we go back.” Nothing else to do, Atlas followed him in, offering to help search.

The deceptively small light on Ivan’s phone lit up a large chunk of the building. How did the phone have a light in it to begin with? Atlas knew there were some technological leaps lately, but wow! Debris was scattered all over the place. Leaves piled wherever the broken roof permitted. A dry, dusty smell filled the air, clinging to the backs of their throats. With all of the shadows and hidey holes, the chances of finding a cat were slim. Even with his sensitive ears, Atlas couldn’t detect anything other than the scuttling of bugs avoiding Ivan’s light. He strained his eyes but there was neither hide nor hair of any mammal. He was about to tell Ivan that he might want to look else where, but the man cut him off, bellowing “KING CRUNCH!” Evidently, Atlas wasn’t the only one to jump out of their skin. The boxes in the far corner began to rustle in response. Ivan ran over, letting out a proclamation of triumph. “I found my cat!” He dragged an angry, hissing creature from it’s nest, returning to Atlas with a massive smile. Beady eyes glared venomous hatred at Atlas. Little round ears were slicked back and grabby hands scrambled in the air, desperate for a victim. The grey-brown fur bristled like needles. That wasn’t a cat. The raccoon seemed to accept its fate, slumping in Ivan’s arms and chattering murder under its breath. Ivan was positively beaming. “Alright, I got my cat, we can go back. Somehow, he always get’s out when the Bae’s there. It’s weird, I know he likes King Crunch. Who wouldn’t?” Atlas couldn’t help but find Ivan’s clear affection towards his ‘cat’ very sweet. “Why’s he in a jacket?” The fact that the studded leather suited the raccoon was as undeniable as the ridiculousness of addressing raccoon fashion. What an interesting night it was turning out to be. “Oh, that. I tried to put a collar on him, so no one steals him, y’know, but he just kept getting it off. Neal got the jacket made for him so I would” he air quoted “stop moaning about the stupid collar. Good thing King Crunch is so fat, he can’t get his jacket off. No one’s going to mistake him for a stray cat now. I’d have ta kill them if they did though.” He laughed jovially.  

If you’re curious -> Atlas Ivan 

Ivan was created by, and belongs to, @babydollneko

Atlas is my character

Feedback is appreciated!

[amazingviralinfo]

The cameo-crammed mockumentary hits all the right notes as Andy Sambergs group the Lonely Island turn up the pop satire to 11

Many popular musicians have a Berserker-like confidence, and it is in this spirit that the comedy troupe the Lonely Island go for broke and set their sights high. No musical mockumentary can avoid comparisons to This Is Spinal Tap, so you may as well go for a near carbon copy. The gamble pays off.

At first, Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping threatens to be nothing more than an extended Saturday Night Live-style sketch, but co-writer and star Andy Samberg and his collaborators Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone understood their Justin Bieber parody needed more than cheap shots. Theres some genuine entertainment industry satire in this enjoyable, dopey movie and occasional forays into absurdism aimed at a part of the brain that isnt impressed with TMZ. (Although Will Arnetts impersonation of the lead TMZ dingus is a solid recurring gag.) Mocking the moronic mores of bratty boy bands is shooting fish in a barrel. The Lonely Island has the wherewithal to bring other means of destruction into the mix.

Samberg, our lovable lead dunce, is Connor Friel (AKA Connor4real) and hes about to release his second solo album. His first one was a major hit, but he was still riding off his association with lyricist Lawrence (Schaffer) and DJ Owen (Taccone). The three were late-90s sensations in a group called the Style Boyz, and their fashions and dance moves ought to get chuckles.

The bulk of Popstar is spent watching Connors career and life go into free fall, from his asinine sponsorship with a household appliance brand (new tracks are uploaded to your refrigerator) to the stupidity of his latest material. This is a bit of a story disconnect, as the new Connor4real songs arent any less idiotic than the ones that were beloved by the stream of celebrity talking heads (Questlove, Mariah Carey, Simon Cowell). But these stage sequences arent really about making sense. When the Lonely Island are doing their thing (see Dick in a Box, Jizz in My Pants, or any of their other puerile anthems), theres an undeniable magic: their preposterous lyrics are indistinguishable from the style theyre lampooning. If you didnt speak English, Spinal Taps Stonehenge could certainly pass for Jethro Tull and Tonight Im Gonna Rock You Tonight could be Kiss. Connor4reals tunes rap-infused pop sounds like the stuff I hear blasting out of cars today. Only the topics are slightly more ridiculous.

Neo-vaudeville antics Andy Samberg in Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping. Photograph: Glen Wilson/AP

Connor4reals road to redemption is obvious from the first scenes. It means ditching his entourage and respecting Owen, who stayed part of his band (meaning he presses play on an iPod) while wearing an absurd Daft Punk-via-Galactus helmet, and reconnecting with Lawrence, who has grown a beard and now works on a farm in Colorado. Along the way are a slew of cameos from comedians and musicians, and some decent supporting turns from Tim Meadows as Connor4reals beleaguered manager and Chris Redd as a maniacal underground hip-hop star whose opening act starts overshadowing the marquee player.

There are laughs found in almost every scene, though not many big ones. Theres also the problem that no amount of parody can top the real thing: even on peak form, the Lonely Island could never top the aphasia-like poetry of Kanye Wests declaration to run for president. Then there are the potential pitfalls faced by any movie so loaded with celebrity guests. Jimmy Fallons appearance doesnt poke fun at his neo-vaudeville antics, but encourages them. Its a cringeworthy moment that stops the film dead in its tracks, but is, luckily, the exception. (Ringo Starr only has a few lines, but he nails them, as does DJ Khaled.) Seeing so many real-life mainstream entertainers is a reminder of just how unfunny this movie could have been. Like most of Top 40 radio, Popstar may not linger for too long, but its agreeable while its here.