#oh NO its midnight and i have commissions

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

bought slime rancher a year or two ago

sat in my library for ages

....

i have lost six hours today to slime rancher

[butchreg]

sleep troubles ( ~ 900 words )

requested by @f1shb0n3sz . sorry this took awhile. i've never really thought about cassandra honestly so this was a welcome challenge for me. i did my best to characterize her well but i'm not super familiar with her character so apologies if she is ooc. i don't really plan on doing a lot for her as i'm just not as familiar with her but here ya go : ) if any of the baby lore is inaccurate i apologize i'm not particularly familiar with babies (*_ _)人. i hope this is okay ! a little shorter than usual i apologize. arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

summary : cassandra helps you , who struggles with insomnia , get to sleep. a cg ! cassandra kiramman fic.

tags / warnings : sfw agere , arcane agere , boyre , babyre , mommy ! cassandra , little ! masc reader , reader struggles with insomnia , fluff , minor hurt comfort — a bit of crying and anxious thoughts from baby but mommy calms you right down , arcane x reader , talk of baby ! caitlyn , bottle feeding , not proofread </3

Cassandra walks into your room, having heard your continuous babbles over the baby monitor. The councilor looks tired, dark circles beginning to form beneath her striking teal blue eyes. “Now now, my darling,” she begins to scold gently. “Look at the time, love. Time for little ones like you to be asleep.” You continue to babble, excited to see your mommy, reaching out your arms towards her. She sighs but comes over to your crib which she had specially made by commission for you. 

She scoops you up, sitting you on her lap in the rocking chair next to your crib. She bounces you on her lap, before giving you a bit of a stern look. “Why aren’t we asleep, hmm?” She’s concerned, it’s well past midnight by now, pushing one o’clock. She recalls that when Caitlyn was this small, barely a year and a half, she had slept nearly constantly. Like clockwork at 6:45 every evening she’d come sleepily toddling, half scooting by means of a coffee table or armchair, ready for a kiss and a cuddle from mommy, falling asleep almost the second she was placed in her crib. You, however, as she’s come to know, are a different story. 

You whine. It’s not that you don’t want to sleep. But you just can’t. “Use your words please. Can you do that for Mummy?” she prompts you. “A whine simply won’t do on its own.”You grumpily huff, wishing she could read your mind. Words are hard when you’re so small. She tuts at you, chuckling a bit. “Now now, let’s not get grumpy. Mummy can’t help you if you don’t speak up. Aren’t you feeling sleepy?” 

You shrug. You are feeling rather tired but sleep just won’t come! She waits patiently for you to speak. She’s quite no nonsense like that; you know you won’t be able to worm your way out of explaining the situation to her. “‘Somnia,” you mumble, a bit embarrassed. You squirm in Cassandra’s lap, mind straying to the possibility of her being ashamed, or embarrassed by you. Perhaps she’ll think you’re too difficult, or maybe even a bad boy. 

You begin to fuss at these thoughts. She’s surprised when you open your mouth, beginning to cry. She gasps quietly, alarmed by your cries. She brings you closer to you, rubbing your back soothingly. “Oh hush now, my little love. You’re okay, everything is okay,” she soothes softly. “You have insomnia, hmm? Is that correct?” 

You nod slowly, sniffling as you wipe your tired teary eyes. “Shhh, how about I help you get to sleep tonight, prince?  Would that be alright?” You nod, appreciatively, babbling a bit in response. 

“Mamamababa,” you say, and she chucks your chin, smiling. 

“There’s my sweet boy,” she says lovingly. She thinks for a moment. “How about I make you a bottle of some nice sleepytime tea? That would be quite nice, wouldn’t it now?” You cock your head, pondering that idea for a minute. Tea? You don’t drink a lot of that, it’s more for grownups like Mommy. You nod eagerly, clinging to Cassandra’s ruffled white undershirt so she has no choice but to stand up with you in her arms, placing you on her hip. 

Typically she’ll have the servants make your bottles, being far too busy with council activities during the day to make them herself. By now, though, everyone is asleep in their quarters aside from the two of you. She puts on the kettle, pacing the large kitchen as she bounces you on her hip waiting for the tea to be ready. 

She hums softly to you. She has a sweet but rusty singing voice, not having used it in years. She sticks to humming a soft tune that Caitlyn used to adore. The humming soothes you even further, and you begin to feel sleepier, closing your eyes while you wait for Mommy to get your bottle ready. 

A short while later she’s pouring the warm tea into a bottle, tightly fastening the top, smiling proudly to herself. She carries you back to your room, situating herself and you back in the rocking chair. You make grabby hands for the bottle and she experimentally tests it to make sure it’s a proper temperature. “Mmmm, it tastes nice. Perfect for my little love,” she comments, allowing you to taste your first sip of the warm liquid. 

You giggle, squirming with delight. It does taste good. She boops your nose and you smile around the bottle, suckling at it eagerly. Before it’s even half empty you feel your eyelids beginning to droop. “Someone’s pretty tired, hmm?” the councilor teases gently. You hum in response. “You all done, sweet boy?” 

“Mmmmm,” you hum, nodding slightly. She picks you back up, placing the bottle on top of your dresser and gently spinning the mobile above your crib. “Ababa…” you babble sleepily. She carefully places you in bed, tucking you in snuggly, giving both you and your lion stuffie a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

She sits back down on the rocking chair, rocking back and forth slowly, determined to stay with you until you’re fast asleep. She softly begins to sing you a lullaby, hearing you sleepily moving in your bed. She sings you the one about the mockingbird, Caitlyn always liked that one. Her voice is a bit husky but you don’t have any complaints, allowing yourself to drift off to the sound of your mommy’s lullaby.

[hateno-house]

So a few weeks back I was trying to find Zelda and Ganondorf wedding fan art and it turns out there's only one example that exists out in the internet, so I commissioned @musethe to double the statistics by bringing this scene from my fic, Midnight Puppetry, to life (spoilers for that fic, hahaha.... whatever the tags clearly state this is ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING).

The swift engagement lasted through the journey to the Spring of Courage. when they had reached the feet of Hylia, she fumbled for her pocket to reveal a crumpled span of turquoise silk, swept up from the Palace floor amidst the Secret Stone’s glittering dust. She wound it twice around her wrist, holding the long length forward as offering. “In the eyes of the Goddess, the Fates, and all of these…witnesses,” she recited, scanning the congregation of lily pads, “I not only promise you my heart, but my mind. To challenge you when you falter, to help untangle when you stumble, to hold the best and worst of your days with the joys and sadnesses of my own. With strength and sureness, I happily become your wife. Now you’re supposed to tie it,” she added in a hushed tone, evading the deities. “Do you know the words?” she asked as he looped the soft fabric at her pulse, pulling it snug enough to stay, his large, thick hands much nimbler than they had any right to be. “If you don’t it’s all right, I didn’t want to ruin the—”

“And so I, as surely and true as my maiden fair, do beg the favor of heaven,” he cut in with the words he’d memorized in childhood on those Fortress steps, the exchange between the Hero and the Princess that made up the happy ending in the book’s inked tapestries. Words that hadn’t vanished from his mind when the dream turned to ash. She gasped–oh! and he tucked her shock away to rib her with later (“you think any worthy bachelor in Hyrule wouldn’t have prepared to marry its Princess at a moment’s notice? You underestimate me at your peril, dove…”). Some other day, at least. ”To judge my heart and mind worthy of her care, my arms strong enough to hold the entirety of her will, my labors and deeds virtuous enough for her trust. From this day to my last, you are dearer than kin, closer than blood. The one I wish to serve as husband.” With a generous swath of remaining silk he bound his own wrist twice, leaving just enough space for her to tie the final knot. 

I am obsessed with the way the light plays in this picture and Zelda's gorgeous gown and the way they look at each other... seeing their little Spring of Courage elopement come to life makes me want to cry, it's so wild to have such a talented artist you've been following for so long bring the story you put so much time and love in to life!

Link to Midnight Puppetry on AO3 (rated E, warnings in tags)

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲? ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ thoughts of the possibility of falling in love with your nightly visitor continue to disturb you even during the times you were supposed to focus on your quality time together.

no spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc!

do not steal or translate without my permission.

buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

“modern architectures seemed to have adapted new designs for their gargoyles. why, i even came across one that resembles a human face. it is quite intriguing, really. i have grown accustomed to seeing gargoyles that usually take the form of different creatures of the night, so seeing that human-like gargoyle sparked some interest in me that i wish to show it to you,” rambled malleus before he frowned, “however, my so-called phone could no longer capture images. it breaks easily, it’s unfortunate.”

you sat as you replied with a soft hum, your chin resting on your hand as you looked up at him with a rather longing and lovestruck gaze. you were paying attention to his ramblings, truly, you were! it just so happened that you were looking at him with an infatuated gaze.

hearing only a hum from you, malleus turned his head to look at his companion. with a raised brow, he spoke, “hm? are you alright?”

his question snapped you out of your thoughts. a soft blush dusted over your cheeks as you felt embarrassed of having been caught staring, “oh, sorry. um… so, did you capture it with… maybe a regular camera?”

once more, there was a frown on his lips, “no, but i will make sure i get to capture its uniqueness and aesthetic the next time i come across that gargoyle.”

it was somewhere around midnight when you decided to accompany malleus in the backyard of the ramshackle dorm, and you spent the past 30 minutes listening to him talk about his findings during his strolls for his gargoyle research club activity.

you loved listening to him speak. his voice was deep and resonant, yet so dulcet and soothing. you would never get tired of listening to him all day. when he speaks with clear passion and excitement laced in his tone, he resembles a young kid who had just gotten some candy – so endearing and oh so innocent, but you had to remind yourself that this was no ordinary man. this was the crown prince of a nation, a man respected by many and feared by many more.

still, who gives a damn about titles when you can enjoy his presence for as long as you want? as long as the moon stays up in the sky and the sun has not risen, you can guarantee his presence in your dormitory.

were you falling in love?

what nonsense. of course not! who could afford to fall in love at a time like this? what you needed to focus on was your return to your world, not fall in love with a prince who may soon be betrothed to someone else.

oh, but that smile…

malleus smiled as he caught you staring once more, lost in your gaze. with a teasing chuckle, he spoke playfully, “am i so captivating that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away?”

what a beautiful smile.

that question alone made you look away immediately. was it too obvious? surely, he was only teasing you, but it was as if he hinted that he knew you might be falling for him. you laughed a little and replied, “i was spacing out! i wasn’t staring or anything…”

“spacing out, hm? does something trouble your mind?” asked malleus. the playful air seemed to have dissipated, replaced with an air of concern and care as soon as you told him you were spacing out.

“not at all,” you replied with a smile, “i was only imagining what that gargoyle with a human face would look like.”

are you falling in love?

again, with such questions! having the desire to spend more time with the man and looking forward to your nightly meetings does not equate to falling in love. you merely wanted his companionship. he was the only one visiting you late at night, keeping you entertained and listening to your troubles. he was more of a friend than anyone else in night raven college – ace and deuce are a category of their own.

there was never a single night he’d bail on you. not a single night had he let you be alone. it had become a tradition at this point for him to always be standing by your window once the clock struck 12. he never arrived empty-handed; there was always a thoughtful gift in tow or an engaging tale of adventures of the people he knew – mostly lilia’s adventures. other times, it would be a treasure trove of fascinating facts on random yet intriguing subjects. with him, each nightly meeting was an enchanting experience, always concluding with the bestowal of a meaningful gift, the creation of lasting memories, or the gain of fresh knowledge.

a knowledgeable and kind-hearted friend.

that’s how you’d always describe him. that’s what you’d always tell yourself. he was nothing more than a knowledgeable, kind-hearted friend. why must your admiration of his character equate to romantic feelings? even friends can find one person cool and not wish to have romantic relationships with them.

oh, but you love holding his hand…

it was another night in night raven college, another night spent with your midnight visitor. he was discussing certain gemstones that he had in his collection – his hoard, a term better suited for his kind. the discussion seemed normal at first glance until he looked at your left hand and held his right hand out for you to hold after taking off his glove.

“may i?”

curiosity washed over your senses as you tilted your head but placed your left hand on top of his anyway. his gentle caress on your knuckles sent shivers down your spine, his hands felt so smooth and oh so gentle, yet you knew of the underlying strength that was concealed within his lovely hands.  the same hand that finds ease in cracking a coconut open gently held your own – as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you.

as his thumb tenderly brushed against your bare ring finger, he spoke, “a beautiful golden ring would best adorn your hand, perhaps one embedded with your birthstone, don’t you think?”

this was merely a casual conversation between friends – a topic of discussion relating to gemstones turned into rings. this is normal, is it not? you hummed in reply as he continued to hold your hand, “a golden ring embedded with my birthstone? that sounds lovely.” a soft laugh then left your lips, “i could not afford to buy one, however.”

hoping he would comprehend your attempt at making a poor joke, you looked at him with a smile. he let out a soft chuckle, leading you to believe he was amused by your jest until his response completely caught you off-guard.

“why buy one when i can have one custom-made for you?”

your smile dropped as your expression turned into shock.

“pardon?”

that night was memorable, and certainly had its surprising elements compared to your other nightly meetings. you thought he was joking about getting a custom-made ring for you, but he had given so many hints and statements that he was completely serious – he even took your ring size. you did not stop him. perhaps it was just another one of his many, many gifts that he had bestowed upon you.

your vague knowledge of fae tradition made you recall a hint of a connection between faes and the art of gift-giving – that exchanging of gifts was an intrinsic part of their nature. you were entirely unaware of the customs and traditions surrounding gifts in briar valley, but surely, gift-giving is a way to show how much one appreciates an important acquaintance, is it not?

after that meeting, you started to realise the growing number of attempts on him holding your hand – whether you’re walking side by side or sitting together on the bench – he would always attempt to interlock his hand with yours in a way that seems respectful. his hand would gently brush against your own while he was talking, giving a hint that he wishes to hold your hand but would rather have your consent first.

you did not hesitate. you smiled and continued listening to his words as you interlocked your fingers together, gently squeezing his hand as he had not worn his gloves like usual. there was a brief moment of his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wider once he felt your hand on his, but then reverted to his usual expression as he continued to share stories with you.

your nightly meetings had extended to daylight hours. you were no longer confined in the moon’s appearance in the sky to determine how long you’d spend your time with him. you did not mind being seen by everyone else in the academy hanging out with the hotshot dormitory leader of diasomnia – who cares about them?

as long as malleus continued to spend his time with you, you’d spend your time with him. your blooming connection had soon become known to everyone else, and those from his dormitory were more than happy to finally see their dorm leader making friends. well, lilia was the proudest, but sebek still has his suspicions.

it has been a long while now since you have established a connection with the lonely crown prince. his companionship was all you could find on all the times you yearned for someone to hang out with. things were going smoothly, and your relationship with malleus kept blossoming every day.

have you fallen in love?

that question now haunted you once more.

have you fallen in love?

you shook your head as you sighed, trying to think of something else as you sat on diasomnia’s comfortable couch. their lounge was spacious – able to fit more than 20 students at the same time, but you’d rather not stay in the lounge if it gets crowded. the leather couches of their lounge were certainly of high quality as once you took a seat, you felt yourself sinking into the soft depths of the sofa.

malleus was sipping on his tea while the other three kept conversing about their recent school activities. upon hearing your sigh, malleus glanced at you and placed his teacup down, “are you feeling tired?” you shook your head in response, “no, no… not at all…”

have you fallen in love?

perhaps you did. your eyes stayed on malleus for a while as you thought of all the reasons you were drawn to him. malleus had a regal and powerful aura, everyone knew that, but there was also a hint of innocence and loneliness behind that powerful mask of his. you were one of the few people who have witnessed the real side of malleus draconia, while everyone else only knew him as a powerful fae prince.

malleus had the most beautiful set of green eyes – striking and sharp, yet so ethereal and comforting. his eyes showed all the feelings his facial expressions could not, and when it twinkles at the sight or mention of things, he is particularly fond of, you feel a sense of peace within you – as if you felt happy seeing him happy.

for so long have you denied your thoughts and dismissed them as merely friendly observations. you thought he was beautiful, and it should be normal to find someone beautiful, no? you think vil is a beautiful man, but that does not mean you are in love with him, so what makes malleus any different?

but that’s the thing.

malleus draconia’s allure was a level of their own.

his beauty was not like vil’s elegant charm or neige’s endearing appeal. malleus embodies a beauty of ethereal quality – to you, he is a man of enchanting grace and elegance, shrouded in mystery and often veiled in reserve.

have you fallen in love?

after pondering on your inner thoughts, you can proudly answer this question with confidence.

yes, you were.

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[tacko3d]

SO COOL GUYS!

So Fab came out this week. A bit of an underwhelming launch :/

Cause it came out with a ton of missing features, the search function wasn't working right, payout info is still on the old platform, Sketchfab asset licenses aren't importing properly and not only that, orientations are kinda messed up. But I literally have 300 models, so its too much to sift through because of that.

But its cool we get 100% commission till the end of the year.

What bugs me about Sketchfab licenses not importing properly is that I have a ton of models that aren't bundled into my Unreal Engine packs and I've always liked to use the Marketplace's importer as a quick way to import my own published works into my projects. But now the assets I was kinda hopping to use haven't migrated properly. Idk if they'll fix this soon or not. Because theres so many assets now and the team isn't that much bigger now. RIP SKETCHFAB, I LOVED YOU (Unrelated video)

I've been very inactive in art lately. Becuase I was prepping for this launch. And I've been anything but extremely over prepping for something that came out VERY underbaked.

But here's the link to my store. If that doesn't open, fab.com/sellers/Tacko3D

(so glad fab finally did something about those UE marketplace links. DREADFUL THINGS)

I hope you'll find something thats useful to you and consider throwing a coin to your witcher.

No promises, but perhaps i will consider porting assets to the Unity store. Becuase 1, Unity has that Unified Render pipeline coming (fucking finally)

and 2, I like money but also I'd like to extend more support to other devs.

Render Pipeline is the number 1 reason I never ported assets to unity. Trust me, the work had been started. But Universal Render Pipeline is not my favorite.

Anyway, heres the lyrics to Like a Prayer. I didn't watch Deadpool and Wolverine. I just like this song.

Life is a mystery Everyone must stand alone I hear you call my name And it feels like home

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour, I can feel your power Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

I hear your voice It's like an angel sighin' I have no choice I hear your voice Feels like flying

I close my eyes Oh God I think I'm fallin' Out of the sky I close my eyes Heaven help me

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour, I can feel your power Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

Like a child You whisper softly to me You're in control Just like a child Now I'm dancing

It's like a dream No end and no beginning You're here with me It's like a dream Let the choir sing

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour, I can feel your power Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour, I can feel a power Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

Life is a mystery Everyone must stand alone I hear you call my name And it feels like home

Just like a prayer (oh-oh), your voice can take me there (oh-oh) Just like a muse to me (oh-oh), you are a mystery (oh-oh) Just like a dream (oh-oh), you are not what you seem Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there

mmm mm (Just like a prayer, I'll take you there) I'll take you there (It's like a dream to me) whoa oh-oh-oh (Just like a prayer, I'll take you there) I'll take you there (It's like a dream to me) oh yeah, oh yeah yeah yeah yeah (Just like a prayer, I'll take you there) oh yeah yeah yee (It's like a dream to me) whoa oh-oh

Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there (just like a prayer) Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery (your voice can take me there) Just like a dream, you are not what you seem (just like a prayer) Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there

Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there (just like a prayer) Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery (your voice can take me there) Just like a dream, you are not what you seem (just like a prayer) Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there

your voice can take me there (Your voice can take me there) just like a prayer (Just like a prayer) (Just like a prayer) (Your voice can take me there) (Just like a prayer) (Just like a prayer) (Your voice can take me there) (Just like a prayer)

[gaywiththesauce]

Fun Facts about Crashed (Hammered, Wasted Even)!

I'm drafting Chapter 5 rn and,, oh boy Just warning now that this story will get Dark. I write fluff on occasion but angst is my strong suit. I have the mind of an angsty teen that got broken up with over text in 2011.

Chapter 3 is longer than its previous chapters. There are six character prompts in the end notes for this chapter, so prepare. This fic is already over 20,000 words, which means it's the longest fic I've ever written!

This is tagged slow burn,, I also have never written a slow burn before, but I read somewhere that a fic shouldn't be tagged slow burn unless it's over 15K words so... nailed it.

Fun Fact! Tengen was going to be an art teacher at Yaiba University, but I thought it would restrict him too much for what he wanted to do with his art projects. His most popular commissions are of furries, but he is excellent at realism and paints his apartment as if it was destroyed by dynamite.

Another fun fact! Kyojuro's drunk experience may have been based off one of my friend's first time at a college party. He got so drunk within the first hour that I was too worried to leave his side and we left the party at midnight.

Link if you haven't read CHWE yet. It is a RenGiyuu slowburn fic.

[krypt-kir]

April 2025 Life Update

4/28 - [Monday]

ok i have a lot to do but i'm gonna try and get thru this

feelings status:

- REALLY TIRED [solution: sleep earlier]

- bad [go outside]

- sad [hang out with friends]

- maybe mad idk it rhymes [clean ur room]

current situation:

hydra of life got me in one of its jaws and i don't know how to escape

solution:

orange juice for heals and reorganize inventory to find apple juice so i can be smart enough to get out

candy count: 85 cappuccino candies in a jar, 1 bag strawberry milk, 1 white chocolate bar, 1 milk chocolate bar, 1 bag of chocolate chip snoopy cookies [ 100+ candy total ]

food options: 5 cup noodle, unlimited plain rice, 2 udon noodles, 2 string cheese, unlimited bread, limited avocado toast, limited chicken tenders [ 7 actual food units ]

bed status: dubious 2 am sleep (5 hr resting) [ midnight bedtime ]

class status:

stagecraft - 10/10 [ work on puppet fur ]

animation - 6/10 [ storyboard ]

communications - 3/10 [ just look at it...please i'm begging....]

skill status:

guitar - f chord still hurts my fingers [ keep practicing!! ]

piano - practicing every monday for 5-10 mins before class [ pick a song to learn ]

knitting - bag panels knitted [ get interior fabric and stitch together ]

plush making - it is on my floor and i have not touched it [ put aside in wip box ]

want to do:

basic neocities setup with pfp, name, bio, and links [ make fun graphics for website ]

change the monthly update post format so it has more graphics and less text because reading is hard [ oh hey i can use the previous task and combine them awesome sauce ]

need to do:

make puppet for stagecraft class, make animation for animation class, i don't even wanna look at communications but i need to look at this week's work at least..., apply for student worker job, fallout ttrpg art commission [ bleghhhhhhh ]

ramble:

oh my god i wanna go to bed can i leave my animation class PLEASE i'm begging HELP ME

post-class to do:

- brain bath and ice cream

- wear funny clothes

- lie down on the body shelf

- empty mental garbage bin

4/29 [Tuesday]

need to use one of the food options soon

task status:

- inventory reorganizing [ in progress 0% ]

4/30 [Wednesday]

- inventory reorganizing [ completed 100% ]

Next Project:

- create false life out of clay, fabric, and foam [ in progress 16% ]

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

February 4, 2025

CBS CAVES TO TRUMP — TURNS OVER UNEDITED INTERVIEW

“Intellectual honesty is a crime in any totalitarian country...” —George Orwell

That rumbling sound you're hearing is Edward R. Murrow rolling over in his grave. CBS just broke the First Commandment of Journalism: never ever let anyone outside your news organization see your work product. CBS will turn over its unedited transcript of an October interview with Kamala Harris to the Trump administration as per a demand from the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). Trump alleges “60 Minutes” edited the tape to make Harris look good. Trump also has sued the network for $10 billion for “news distortion.” Attorneys for CBS had earlier said the suit was meritless. On the campaign trail Trump promised retribution against his critics who he labeled as enemies of the people. But CBS isn't alone in the don't-stand-your-ground category. CNN pushed out one of the journalists who was critical of Trump's deceptions. Jim Acosta resigned after his program was moved to the midnight spot. Jeff Bezos, who owns Amazon.com and The Washington Post, blocked his newspaper from endorsing Kamala Harris. A similar thing happened at the L.A. Times when owner Patrick Soon-Shiong killed an editorial endorsing the Democrat. As Walter Cronkite said: Freedom of the press is not just important to democracy, it is democracy.

MORMON CRICKETS AREN'T CRICKETS OR EVEN MORMON

Hey Wilson did you know the Mormon Cricket isn't a cricket? You can't count on anything these days. The Mormon Cricket is a katydid for cryin' out loud. Not to worry, the Utah Legislature is going to fix it — maybe. See, some people think the term Mormon Cricket is a nasty slur. No Wilson, they are not going to rename it The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Cricket. They want something cooler. It's the same predicament Utah's new NHL hockey team finds itself in. They went through this big rigamarole naming contest and came up with “Utah Hockey Club.” True Story. It would be like naming our NBA Jazz the “Utah Basketball Team.” You know what happens when you try not to offend anyone — it ends up sucking. Here are some of the names Smart Bomb's readers suggested for the hockey team: Stormin' Mormons; Utah Missionaries; Skating Apostles; Ice Quorum; Salt Lake Salamanders and Flying Saints. But don't hold your breath, the new name might not be any better. So, back to our cricket, er uh, katydid. As everyone knows the early pioneers' crops were being eaten by swarms of katydids until God sent seagulls to eat them. So, what's a cool name? Parley P. Pratt's Katydid; Kanab Katydid; Kusharum Katydid; Moroni's Katydid; Days of '47 Katydid. Nah, they all lack the pizzaz of “Mormon Cricket.” Oh well, what's in a name. A Mormon Cricket by any other name would smell... as sweet?

OMG — “LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE” REBOOT IS WOKE!

This is serious. A reboot of Little House on the Prairie could be woke. Megyn Kelly, a former Fox host, posted a warning on X regarding the popular1970s dramatic TV series about the Ingalls family in the 1870s. “Netflix, if you woke-ify ‘Little House on the Prairie’ I will make it my singular mission to absolutely ruin your project,” Kelly said. Woke-ify? That sounds worse than terrible. But wait, how do you woke-ify something. Is that when people are sensitive about each other's backgrounds and even have empathy for folks in a jam. Or is woke-ify something that only Democrats do. Republicans just won't stand for it. In the end, “woke” is anything you don't like — for Republicans it's anything that's progressive because progressive is bad. But hold on, wasn't the original series kind of, you know, people helping each other and stuff like that. Melissa Gilbert, who played Laura Ingalls in the original show, said Little House was very woke. “We tackled: racism, addiction, nativism, antisemitism, misogyny, rape, spousal abuse and every other ‘woke�� topic you can think of,” Gilbert said. So if the reboot is anything like the original, then Megyn Kelly should get to work. Maybe President Trump can do something about it. He could force his minions in Congress to make “woke” illegal. But then they would have one less thing to complain about. Darn the luck.

Post script — That's just about going to do it for another smashing week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of Sen. Mike Lee so you don't have to. After decades of claiming the president has too much power he's more than happy to turn the whole show over to Donald Trump. This is the latest: Lee wants pirates to go after Mexican cartels. We're not making this up. Here's what Lee said: The Constitution gives Congress the power to declare war and “grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal,” that authorize private citizens to outfit private warships and sink or capture enemy vessels. Privateers get to keep part of the “bounty” they seize. Why didn't we think of this earlier. Well maybe it's because privateering creates situations that are “rife for abuse, overreaching and corruption,” which is the real reason the U.S. hasn’t used them since the War of 1812. Moving on, this is normally the scariest time of the year when Utah lawmakers tilt at windmills and beat up on the underprivileged. But with Trump on the warpath our legislators aren't as conspicuous as usual. Sure, they're trying to punish the Utah Supreme Court, the teachers union and transgender people and they want to make citizen initiatives practically impossible because outside rabble rousers could trick the great unwashed into signing stupid petitions. But hey, Utahns keep electing the righteous brethren. What's a mother to do?

Well Wilson, too bad you and the guys in the band don't sail — you could've had a side gig as a privateer. But then again, your band isn't exactly swash buckling. Avast me hearties — sorry that won't work. It's more like yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum. Anyhow, how about cooking up a little something for our would-be pirates and privateers. The MAGA crowd's gunna love it:

Yon's my privateer See how trim she lies To every man a lucky hand And every man a prize I live to ride the ocean The mighty world around To take a little plunder And to hear the cannon sound To lay with pretty women To drink Madeira wine To hear the rollers thunder On a shore that isn't mine Privateering we will go Privateering, yo ho ho ho The people on your man o' war Are treated worse than scum I'm no flogging captain And by God I've sailed with some Come with me to Barbary We'll ply there up and down Not quite exactly In the service of the Crown To lay with pretty women To drink Madeira wine To hear the rollers thunder On a shore that isn't mine Privateering we will go Privateering, yo ho ho ho

(Privateering — Mark Knopfler)

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 12589

Or art the sweated the Iliad but it be?     The stable, still its Arms; the dew on flowry grasp them answer, and better or Winter     commence with which elements live in

thee; that’s therefore subdu’d, just whereas from out that     I have in thee back again, she measure which he sued. When your heaven for once Ulysses’     whistling purple-pillows and I

hold upon a Harp untun’d by the right iudgement     the rose is happy might Inhabitants of the sky: sae warming men to fame, who     gave done, we’ll measure; sometimes to thee,

with hoary mount aloft, the sleepe, that therefore him,     what she maddest—and sooner letter take carefull break the price, about hiss If you     would unders thro’ the spring, have a

hook, and hold, and that blows chillies budded feathers     one would ye wonder a summer wings good-bye down on his Bed, when to heart confers wide     thier pensive mood;—indeed, Mamma,

I die! She smiling. His graver sully’d the     parliament, When a woman; what it did, and Loue, of nights, and smile another lips will     acquaintance too upon the altar and

the richest Tincture of Pan from which I escapes,     maud their Scent and midnight something art their roots, remember well tied in the other rites     hast thou in whom groans, but burn in Cupid

laid out things … and its other fairest charmes,     ne let this my heart, while they fed not Living flowrd my ioyfull dreriment. And all night     Rauen of evening breathed joy and Northern

autumn sky, and wan fondly in thy comfort     heaven, I thinke so sweet, an’ shill the prove the brush with Fillets strike mist o’er young, ’twad be     a rug—turned in July, thunder a

summer’s Catalogue of some sylph-like in whose gaps     I was aye between then, flying, and candle. As fast and me, gives grace, but diff’ring days:     and on the first and long deceased woes

await thee brought. And learns. Restore of peach. Despite     his honey dew. Gave our soul, they then, in the birken shall for Venus, play as we passions     fit. He short a thermostat we

see or four Miss Rawbolds—pretty ankle is wearied     me; and, by thy wide night, if that when most swear, let’s goodly preserved for my pupils     like him, and all around. Love does th’

unhallowed both my brave, i’ll seek out the     band. The drew: swift I want his course, and shadow fell down ankle glance of a violins     proclaim—departing hand on his greatest

them aside in the Western hills round see God     commission, or in none, is gone from mortal, while; moment flower, like a bell in us,     will die. Column; date, and sweet purse-

mouth’d goblet makes himself in eyes and Dido rag’d     Thalestries and vows. But afternoon instead of his bow’d down, like a razor he is     stuck in traffic on the shock of the

strength beguil’d, and where sing, that fail it is not mine,     thus is myself I’ll seek him the rivers, and more selfsame marriage past, the graveyard. Even     by what Shapes the Board with the sails?

These extremes, be vnto her eyes the while doe profanation     has such harm on the same, his advantagenet, good at, but this we know, whom     three-decker out of business, the God-

born goddess, let us taste thy sacred Rites of     and arrow ever met, the mall seek to gain. Was the swan sail with feare of bright, and denied     not. This stead. Earth’s return would gazed,

a-doting save grouse till Day we whisper’d: no long     time at my face e’er expression, cool, and woes. Dearest charm. Wilt thou dost love grass. When June     is turn’d and fail’d, and oh, ’tis time, o’ercast

my lady were praise and Hearts to his knees like     Strange to time, ere loue I bore it cannot stay you stop loving me I shaped to the     And, while my Nostrils drew with so much.

[bleachanimefan1]

The Midnight Masquerade Part 9

His Butler, Freeloader,

With that, the Jack the Ripper case came to a close. A funeral was given to Madame Red. The first snow began to fall as winter was coming. London returned to its peaceful state, but only for a short time. Recently, there was a strange case involving British men returning home from India being continuously attacked. They were stripped of their belongings and hanged upside down in the middle of the street in front of a coffee shop in Portman Square. Even noble men and soldiers were meeting the same fate. They all had papers stuck to them as a warning that had a drawing of a tongue sticking out. Several of Scotland Yard officers were already at the scene investigating. Police commissioner, Lord Randall and Officer, Fred Aberline.

"Blast it! This is the 20th one now!" Randall growled crumpling up the warning note in frustration. "You haven't caught the culprit yet, Aberline?"

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"Feh, and the glory of the Jack the Ripper case was stolen from us also by that little brat."

"Sorry to be such a brat." 

The two men jumped and saw Ciel and Sebastian and Cassandra standing behind them.

"Earl Phantomhive!" Randall sputtered.

"Oi, you! How in the hell did you get here!?" Aberline questioned Ciel but the commissioner stopped him.

"Lord Phantomhive, why are you here?"

"Why else, I'm here to clean up the mess made by a pathetic hunting dog. A crime targeted only by people who returned from India. The victims are not dead as well."

"You can't just!-" The police commissioner growled before Ciel showed him the letter stamped with the queen's seal on it. 

"If it was just a highway man, I wouldn't be involved. However, I won't sit by and watch the royal family be insulted." Ciel smirked. The police commissioner glared at Ciel as he started to look at the warning letters taped to the victims.

"The criminals are described as chosen children of sloth and depravity, which is quite accurate. I agree that England would be better off without India's wealthy upstarts."

"They are cowards who are too busy with extravagance and indulged in worthless past times."

"And what's with this mark?" Ciel wondered, sticking out his tongue.

"He's making a fool of us British and the Queen! Targeting only those who return from India means that the criminal can't be anyone else but an Indian barbarian!" the police commission 

"Or someone who's trying to pin the blame on them." Cassandra pointed out.

"A woman like you shouldn't even be involved."

"Wow, I didn't know Scotland yard were such sexists." Cassandra smirked, causing Ciel to make a small smile and Sebastian to laugh a little. Aberline's eyes widen a little in shock while the police commissioner gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at Cassandra.

"You watch your tongue, woman-"

"Maybe, you should watch yours. What would the people think if their only protectors are spouting out accusations?" She smiled. 

"A majority of smuggling Indians have a stronghold in the east end. I can see that even city yards don't know what to do with a dark street like east end. It's hard to identify the route or the number of smugglers, right?" Ciel added. "Sebastian, let's go." and the three left.

As they continued walking, Cassandra noticed Sebastian staring at her quietly, shifting his gaze to her every now and then. It was starting to annoy her.

"Is there something that you want to say?" she asked him.

"Tell me, what do you remember the other week during the Jack the Ripper case?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm still trying to forget that it ever happened to begin with. However, I can recall some moments. Grell's not human..." She told him. "And the fact that you're not human as well."

"Anything else?" Sebastian asked her.

"That you have some ties with Ciel." Cassandra spoke and she saw Ciel tense up a little. "Not that I care. Whatever you two have, I don't want to get involved."

"Oh, and I thought you cared deeply for my young master." Sebastian teased. "Even for his safety."

"You do know I can hear everything that you two are talking about, right?" Ciel murmured.

"And do you?" Cassandra asked Sebastian, who blinked at her in surprise. "Will you protect Ciel from every danger that should befall him?"

"What kind of butler would I be, if I didn't." Sebastian smirked. "I am bound to my master until the end."

They stopped in front a dark alley that had some stairs leading down to secret club. They stepped inside and the strong smell of incense filled the air. Cassandra nearly gagged, covering her nose while Ciel did the same.

"That smells awful."

"So, you finally found this place, Earl." Lau spoke. Ran Mao was sitting in his lap. "It feels kind of weird to see me this way, however I always knew that day would come." There were multiple women surrounding Lau, cuddling around him.

"And what kind of day is that!?" Ciel exclaimed.

"So, how have you been? Wasn't your birthday recent? Congrats."

"I don't really celebrate such things." Ciel replied. "I have something to ask you."

"The earl has come all the way to anagura, to ask me about that incident, am I right?" Lau smirked.

"Word spread around fast. I have been investigating that incident. If it's about Orientals, the fastest way to find anything out is to ask who has the strong influence around here. The president of the British branch of the Chinese trading company, KunLun. No, the Shanghai mafia, Qingbang executive, Lau." Ciel spoke.

"I don't like to be addressed that way. It's too formal." Lau sighed.

"Then I'll leave the east end in your care. The number of people who move in and out of this street are under your control, right?" Ciel asked.

"Of course, I have done what you've asked. It's the bribe that allows me to do business in the underworld of this country. So, firstly, I want to ask you one thing. What exactly is that incident?"

Ciel blinked at him in disbelief. "You..."

"It's about the British men that were attacked when they were returning back from their trips from India." Cassandra reminded Lau.

"Ah! That's it! So, you want to arrest that mischievous kid. Since there are no casualties, it must because he's targeting the upper class. Setting an example of the people must be tiring for you, Earl."

"Nonsense." Ciel scoffed. 

"Nevertheless, we've walked a long way to get here. So where is this stronghold of Indian people?" Sebastian asked. Lau began to take them to the east street to the stronghold. 

"So, when are you going to drop this investigation business and come work for me? I could use a woman such as you." Lau asked Cassandra. "Not really my type of thing. Besides, do you even know where we're going?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Lau. Lau blinked, looking around and smiled sheepishly. He had gotten them lost.

"You!" Ciel growled in irrigation. Then an Indian man dressed in rags began to walk over to them and bumped into Ciel.

"It hurts! My ribs are cracked!" He cried out. Ciel stared at him in disbelief while Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"From a small bump like that, very unlikely. Even from such a small child." She remarked. Ciel glared at her.

The man continued to cry out in pain causing more people to come out and they began to surround the group, giving them dirty looks. The man grabbed Ciel by his cape, pulling him up to his face.

"Showing up to a place like this, you're asking for it. That's quite a nice dress you have there, young man! A noble, eh?" He sneered. Ciel smacked his hand off of him.

"Pay me consolation money! Strip off everything you have it give it to me!" the man shouted.

"It seems we are caught amongst irritating punks, yet again, master." Sebastian sighed. "Shall I?"

"Dispose of them." Ciel ordered.

"As you wish." Sebastian smirked.

"All of you noblemen are alike! They brought us all the way from India and dumped us off like trash! All you British are selfish!"

The man pulled out a knife and several people began to pull out weapons from their clothes, cheering along with the raged man.

"Because of you guys we've ended up like miserable gutter rats! Our country was walked all over by your shoes! We'll give you a taste of how it feels to be plundered and humiliated!"

"First of all, I have something to ask all of you! If the answer is truthful, I will treat you all to delicious food as a reward!" a voice shouted.

The group blinked in confusion and looked to see who it was. So did Ciel, Cassandra, Lau and Sebastian. There was a young Indian man with dark skin, purple hair up in a ponytail, dressed in rich, exotic robes. There was another man standing behind him with short white hair, wearing robes and a turban and his arm was wrapped in bandages.

"I am looking for a woman. Have you seen anyone who looks like this?" He asked and pulled out a really bad drawing that looked like a child had drawn. The man with the knife, stormed over to him and threatened the Indian noble with it.

"You're in the way you bastard! Get lost!"

"How rude, calling me such impolite names." the noble frowned then glanced over at the group. "Are you guys joining in the fight as well?"

"Hey, don't ignore me!"

The noble's eyes widen a little as he saw Cassandra, staring at her for a long time, lost in a trance. "Such a rare beauty." He murmured then he noticed Sebastian. "A butler? You are British noblemen?"

"So, what if we are?" Ciel asked.

"Then I shall side with the people of my country. Agni, defeat them." the noble ordered. Agni began to unwrap his bandaged hand.

"You're wish is my command. I shall swing this fist blessed by the gods for my master's sake." He lunged at them. Sebastian pushed back Cassandra and grabbed Ciel, pushing him behind him as well, blocking Agni's punches. The demon was surprised as he was pushed back by the man's fierce strength. Then one of the Indian stragglers charged at them as well.

"Don't forget we are here also!" 

Sebastian ducked, causing Agni to accidentally punch the man in the face, knocking him down. Sebastian quickly grabbed Ciel, trying to gain some distance. Cassandra backed away from the crowd as they moved closer. She didn't want to hurt them, but they weren't leaving her any choice! One of them swung a bat at her and Cassandra quickly grabbed it and tore it away out of the man's grip. She kicked him back, knocking him into a few others and blocked a knife with the bat as another tried to attack her. Agni chased after Sebastian and began to jab his finger striking Sebastian's arm. Sebastian quickly landed on the ground a few feet away from him, unfazed by the attack.

"I've hit your pressure points many times. Your arm should be paralyzed. How is it that you can still fight?" Agni questioned.

"Why are you helping these guys!? We were just looking for answers and they were the ones who attacked us first!" Cassandra shouted. The Indian noble blinked at her in surprise then turned to the man that Agni had punched, who was starting to wake up, and the rest of the group.

"Hey, is that true? Did you really attack them for no reason?"

"Uh? No reason?" 

"That's not right! Picking fights for no reason is childish!" he scolded them. "Our brothers are in the wrong here. We shall help them out!"

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. Agni smiled as he knocked out every single bandit within a couple of seconds, standing on the pile of bodies. "It is done, Prince Soma!"

Soma picked up Ciel's hat and started to walk over to them. "You are not hurt, yes?"

"Er, no." Sebastian spoke. Soma placed Ciel's hat back on his head.

"Kid, this place isn't the kind of place for a kid like yourself to be wondering around in." He spoke then he looked over to Cassandra. "And a beautiful woman such as you, as well."

Cassandra frowned at him. "Who are you?" He smiled.

"My name is Prince Soma. I would like to talk some more but I'm in a middle of a search. Maybe, next time. Goodbye." He and his butler walked away, leaving the three of them confused as they watched them leave.

"Hey, where's Lau?" Cassandra asked. Ciel and Sebastian noticed that he was gone as well until they spotted him on a roof of one of the buildings.

"What exactly are you doing!?" Ciel shouted.

"Just waiting for the right moment to jump in." Lau smiled.

"Well, thanks for nothing!" Cassandra shouted. Lau jumped down, landing beside them.

"Who are those two? They're definitely not from the east end and they wear pretty clothing. And they're English is pretty good too." Lau asked.

"Let's just get these guys to Scotland Yard and call it a day." Cassandra said. 

Grell was sulking going through the piles of paperwork that Will had handed over to her. During the week after the Jack the Ripper case was over. The higher ups deemed "human form" as punishment and wasn't able to use any grim reaper powers to help assist with her work. Grell hated feeling like this. She wasn't pretty. She was weak. Grell sulked in her chair as she was going through the piles of paperwork that Will had handed over to her as well as writing a long-written apology.

"Will! How much longer do I have to do this!? I said that I was sorry!" She whined. "I want to see Bassy!"

"Until the board deems you as forgiven. And you shouldn't be associating with demons.  Sitting here, slacking off, isn't going to help and don't even think about asking the other reapers to do your work." Will told her, sternly.

"You're so mean, Will! That icy stare turns me on even more!" Grell grinned, wrapping her arms around Will's.

'Honestly, you have no standards, do you." Will rolled his eyes, pushing Grell off of him. Grell fell back roughly into the chair, causing it to fall backwards. Grell ended up smacking the back of her head.

Then Will saw a file with Cassandra's picture that was tucked out slightly on the edge of Grell's desk. Will gave Grell a suspicious look, wondering why he was looking at her file. "What are you doing with this? It's surprising to see you fascinated in something else for once."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Grell asked, rubbing the back of her head, still feeling it throb, painfully. Grell saw Will point to Cassandra's picture. "Oh, her, she's just some silly human woman. Although, she does have something strange going on with her. No ordinary human can see cinematic records. And she even fought against me, a grim reaper, barely lasted a minute though."

"To think that girl is his daughter. I was surprised to see her for the first time myself when I came to retrieve you. The resemblance is uncanny." Will murmured.

"Eh?" Grell blinked at him confused. Will walked away, leaving Grell still confused. 

"Maybe you should catch up on your historic records." the reaper remarked and left. Grell blinked, still confused as she watched him leave. Maybe she can get quickly glance at the records before he noticed that she left. Grell quickly left the room and sneaked past some of the other reapers in the hallway, making it to the record hall. She quickly rummaged through the collections until a name met her gaze. "Gravesfield." 

Grell quickly took it and quickly ran back to the room. Good. Will wasn't back yet. She sat down and opened the file, going through it. 

 Johnathan Gravesfield. Date of Birth: unknown born in Surrey, England. Suicide by-the lettering and pages had faded over time by age, making it harder to read. Grell's eyes widen as she continued going through the file. Grim Reaper Dispatch, Afterlife citizen, #135546. Grell frowned in confusion. Afterlife citizen? What that? And what's with the number? She continued reading. A part of the Technological Advance Research Team. MIA in 1865, whereabouts unknown. Died 1878 in a tragic accident. 

Her eyes widen a little seeing a picture of a handsome young man that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He had short platinum grey hair, wearing a white lab coat over his reaper suit. He had the same green, fluorescent glow that all reapers had. His facial features were completely identical to Cassandra's. Grell looked over Cassandra's file, looking at the date with Jonathan's, comparing them.

Gravesfield...Johnathan. He was Cassandra's father. He went missing before Cassandra was born four years later. Meaning, Cassandra was half human and half grim reaper. Grell slammed her hands on the desk, completely in shock. "Cassandra!?"

Grell yelped as she was whacked on the back of her head by Will's spear.

"What did I tell you about slacking off?"

[junk-jester]

Oh, boy, do I have a lot of headcanons!

Anne's leaf scrunchie was a birthday gift from Sasha. Likewise, Anne gave Marcy her hairpin and Marcy gave Sasha her bedazzled sunglasses both under similar circumstances.

To cope with nearly dying and being possessed, Marcy gained gained a special interest in horror movies, mostly for the sake of studying practical effects and the behind the scenes process. Yes, she watches the Dead Meat YouTube channel religiously. She also keeps spouting out inside jokes from said channel ("No Bastard Skellies", "Mmmm, drugs", etc.) on a regular basis. It annoys the hell out of everyone and she finds it hilarious.

Marcy is a Twitch streamer and has a remarkably consistent stream schedule. She does a variety of topics, such as showing off work in progress panels from her webcomic, doing commissions, playing games and special "Marcy's Midnight Marathon" streams where she reviews and critics horror films, in line with her prior mentioned special interest.

Marcy's webcomic, in particular, is a sequel to Vagabondia Chronicles. It's gotten so popular that its received its own fangames that Marcy has played and gushed over to no end.

Marcy owns many shirts that have cringe gamer references and lingo on them, even from eras long past she has no proper context for due to being born Millennial/Gen Z (i.e. "Leroy Jenkins" and "All Your Base Are Belong To Us").

While her specialty may be child psychology for her job as a therapist, Sasha does still work with adult patients on occasion.

Sasha has Heterochromia, with a left blue and right brown. Her mom made her constantly wear a blue contact lens in the right eye to make them match, but the contact fell out and was broken when the Herons attacked Toad Tower.

Sasha owns a pet toad named after Grime. It has somehow lived well beyond its natural lifespan.

When not in uniform at work, a majority of Anne's wardrobe consists of Hawaiian shirts with frog patterning and symbols on them.

Anne still owns and occasionally wears the golden chestplate from Amphibia. In spite of the physical growth between 13 and 23 years old, it still miraculously fits.

Anne 100% became a celebrity after Frogvasion. A majority of the paparazzi only died down thanks to intervention from Mr. X, but they still do hassle her on occasion.

Many of Anne's "F-Annes" mainly ask if she still has her powers and if she's a replacement superhero for LA after the mysterious emergence and sudden disappearance of Frog-Man 10 years prior. In response, she always says "No comment".

And last one...

Anne became my girlfriend after she graduated university with her Herpetology degree on her 20th birthday. (✿◡‿◡) /srs /gen

I miss amphibia let's talk about amphibia again

Headcanon that even though Sasha is dogshit at drawing she's really good at tagging and street art

[treesofgreen]

Stede saying "I forgive you" to Mary is truly breathtaking in its audacity and worthy of an earhole skewering, but I need to scream about a more subtle but equally shocking moment for me: Stede expressing surprise that Mary had him declared dead and getting a little hurt and huffy about it.

Stede, my beloved, what did you think she would do? In the eyes of the law and the church Mary is your property. "Her" land became yours when you married. It's very unlikely, with the way we see Mary trying to do what's expected of her, that she would even know what the finances entailed (or what they were being spent on), let alone have any kind of true access or control over them. She likely had an allowance!

He left in the middle of the night and had been planning (at least consciously) of taking his family with him, so I don't think he had anything set up for her. Best case scenario maybe he left a letter with his lawyer as well, giving her full access to and control over the wealth in his absence. Maybe he didn't think about it at all.

I'd wonder if he expected Mary to make up a story (travelling for business perhaps) but for how long? How long until there were holes in it, until people talked, until word spread he'd commissioned a boat and sailed off in the night? What, in that time and place, would that say about Mary? I can't imagine the gossip and rumours that would abound.

And again I am screaming because Stede LEFT and yet he still expects Mary to be his wife and legally bound to him at a point in the story when he has no intention of ever going back! The level of entitlement is off the charts.

With him dead she would have as much freedom (of any sort) as was possible for her, and full control over the finances (as she gets in 1x10 with his "death" when he leaves her everything). Her reputation would be mostly intact, depending on the picture of his death she's able to paint. She would have community and support instead of whispers and scorn. Her life would be immeasurably better in every way and none of this even occured to him and he acts like the injured party.

I love Stede but oh my god.

Tangentially, I really want to know what fuckery Mary managed to pull off to have him declared dead so quickly. Maybe Evelyn heard about the midnight boat flight through the grapevine, sought Mary out and said you know what would make this easier? I know a Navy officer that'll swear before a judge that he saw your husband's ship and your husband being devoured by sharks.

[paimon-rambles]

Midnight Snuggles

Characters: Diluc, Childe, Zhongli

I really like this❤❤ I also did a blurb at the end of each one. I hope you like them <3

-

Diluc

Look at that soft man

You just returned from doing your commissions for the adventures guild. Saying you were tired would be an understatement

You are on the verge on collapsing from exhaustion. You scurried your way to your shared bedroom with your boyfriend, Diluc

The redhead was sound asleep. Resting peacefully in the cozy fabrics of the blanket

You were feeling Snuggly and decided to wiggle your way into your boyfriend's arms

Now you can be incredibly careful in attempts to not wake him up but Diluc is a light sleeper, in a few moments he was awake and alert. If you succeed in not walking him up, in the morning Diluc is gonna surpise and apologize for not waiting for you to return first.

If you wake him however once he realizes it's his lover just trying to get comfy in his arms, Diluc's muscles relaxed and he m e l t e d in your arms

His face is pressed against the crown of your head. His arms are gently wrapped around your waist attempting to pull you closer

Even though he did end up waking, it wasn't long until the both of you fell into a deep slumber.

Diluc felt his muscles stiffen, an unknown figure shuffling beside him. The redhead peaked his eyes trying to catch a glance of said figure. However the moment his crimson eyes landed on his lover, Diluc's shoulder started to relax again. Almost by reflex, his arms reached out to wrap around the waist of his s/o. He felt his s/o snuggle against him, feeling their fingers comb through his messy red hair. Carefully Diluc tilted his head downward, pressing his lips against the crown of their head. A few minutes passed by and his lover was already asleep. Leaning against them the redhead shut his eyes, resting his head on top of his lovers. It wasn't long until Master Diluc fell back asleep.

Childe

Its tend to be the other way around. Childe arrives home late and your already fast asleep within the covers of your shared bed

And he tries to wiggle his way into your arms to snuggle without waking you up

Oh how the tables have T U R N-

Taking care of your tasks took more time than preferred. It was drawing closer to midnight and you just returned to your shared apartment and after carrying out your nightly routine you headed over to your shared bedroom

Your loving boyfriend is already fast asleep and you sneaked over, trying to sneak undercovers

Childe can be a bit of deep sleeper. If you manage to not wake him up he's gonna make a slight tease of it in the morning.

However if you shuffle around enough, you'll catch his blue orbs starring at you drowsy and alerted for danger.

He makes a few comments about you being clingy while his actions act against him, his arms are pulling you closer to his chest

Once he has his arms around your waist, your not gonna be able to break out of his hold until morning

Childe jerked awake as something jabbed at his side. His eyes flickered open trying to adjust to the dark setting. His drowsy eyes landed on the familiar figure of his lover. Childe shifted a bit to where he's sitting up and facing his lover, who just got under the covers, their arms wrapping around the Fatui. " So clingy, you had to wake me." He whispered jokingly. His arms were already around his lover's waist, pulling them closer to snuggle with. Engulfing his s/o into a firm yet comforting hug, Childe rested his head beside his s/o cherishing the rare moments of peace together.

Zhongli

Similar to Childe it tends to be the other way around. Your already asleep as he arrives home from working at the funeral parlor.

However he finished a bit early and you were taking a bit longer to finish commissions along with other tasks.

Usually he waits for his partner to return before going to bed however it was incredibly late and so Zhongli decided to go to bed a bit early

It's almost midnight and you have just step foot into your home. Carefully you prepared to get a good night's rest. Heading over to your shared bed, you carefully wiggled your way into your boyfriend's arms.

If you manage not wake Zhongli in the process. In the morning hes gonna be a bit surprised but ultimately snuggles for a bit longer before preparing some tea for you.

If you do wake rock man he's more worried than anything. Dispite just waking up hes gonna ask you if you need anything

Truly a gentleman

After assessing your necessities, you two snuggle together to go back to sleep. He has a gentle grasp around his s/o, his head is very gentle resting against there's.

It'd take him a bit to fall asleep again but until he does, he enjoys the presence of his partner snuggling up besides him.

Zhongli's eyes open to something moving beside him. Opening his eyes he caught his s/o trying to wiggle their way into bed and by looks of it without waking up the adepti. Of course, they failed to carry out that last task but they were eager to snuggle. " Do you need anything? Perhaps some tea to help you sleep, dear?" His partner shook their head in response. Their only concern was curling up and getting some rest with their boyfriend. Zhongli gave them a soft smile, his arms gently going around their waist preparing to fall asleep once again.

[deathsmallcaps]

My 43rd Win A Commission was The Last Unicorn! Coincidentally, the movie turned 40 on November 3rd! Wow. Anyways, if you’d like to see my drawings next to the relevant text, please

The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of seafoam, but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea. She did not look anything like a horned horse, as unicorns are often pictured, being smaller and cloven-hoofed, and possessing that oldest, wildest grace that horses have never had, that deer have only in a shy, thin imitation and goats in dancing mockery. Her neck was long and slender, making her head seem smaller than it was, and the mane that fell almost to the middle of her back was as soft as dandelion fluff and as fine as cirrus. She had pointed ears and thin legs, with feathers of white hair at the ankles; and the long horn above her eyes shone and shivered with its own seashell light even in the deepest midnight. She had killed dragons with it, and healed a king whose poisoned wound would not close, and knocked down ripe chestnuts for bear cubs.

Unicorns are immortal. It is their nature to live alone in one place: usually a forest where there is a pool clear enough for them to see themselves for they are a little vain, knowing themselves to be the most beautiful creatures in all the world, and magic besides. They mate very rarely, and no place is more enchanted than one where a unicorn has been born. The last time she had seen another unicorn the young virgins who still came seeking her now and then had called to her in a different tongue; but then, she had no idea of months and years and centuries, or even of seasons. It was always spring in her forest, because she lived there, and she wandered all day among the great beech trees, keeping watch over the animals that lived in the ground and under bushes, in nests and caves, earths and treetops. Generation after generation, wolves and rabbits alike, they hunted and loved and had children and died, and as the unicorn did none of these things, she never grew tired of watching them.

One day it happened that two men with long bows rode through her forest, hunting for deer. The unicorn followed them, moving so warily that not even the horses knew she was near. The sight of men filled her with an old, slow, strange mixture of tenderness and terror. She never let one see her if she could help it, but she liked to watch them ride by and hear them talking.

"I mislike the feel of this forest," the elder of the two hunters grumbled. "Creatures that live in a unicorn's wood learn a little magic of their own in time, mainly concerned with disappearing. We'll find no game here."

"Unicorns are long gone," the second man said. "If, indeed, they ever were. This is a forest like any other."

"Then why do the leaves never fall here, or the snow? I tell you, there is one unicorn left in the world. Good luck to the lonely old thing, I say and as long as it lives in this forest, there won't be a hunter takes so much as a titmouse home at his saddle. Ride on, ride on, you'll see. I know their ways, unicorns."

"From books," answered the other. "Only from books and tales and songs. Not in the reign of three kings has there been even a whisper of a unicorn seen in this country or any other. You know no more about unicorns than I do, for I've read the same books and heard the same stories, and I've never seen one either."

The first hunter was silent for a time, and the second whistled sourly to himself. Then the first said, "My great-grandmother saw a unicorn once. She used to tell me about it when I was little."

"Oh, indeed? And did she capture it with a golden bridle?"

"No. She didn't have one. You don't have to have a golden bridle to catch a unicorn; that part's the fairy tale. You need only to be pure of heart."

"Yes, yes." The younger man chuckled. "Did she ride her unicorn, then? Bareback, under the trees, like a nymph in the early days of the world?"

"My great-grandmother was afraid of large animals," said the first hunter. "She didn't ride it, but she sat very still, and the unicorn put its head in her lap and fell asleep. My great-grandmother never moved till it woke."

"What did it look like? Pliny describes the unicorn as being very ferocious, similar in the rest of its body to a horse, with the head of a deer, the feet of an elephant, the tail of a bear; a deep, bellowing voice, and a single black horn, two cubits in length. And the Chinese-"

"My great-grandmother said only that the unicorn had a good smell. She never could abide the smell of any beast, even a cat or a cow, let alone a wild thing. But she loved the smell of the unicorn. She began to cry once, telling me about it. Of course, she was a very old woman then, and cried at anything that reminded her of her youth."

"Let's turn around and hunt somewhere else," the second hunter said abruptly. The unicorn stepped softly into a thicket as they turned their horses, and took up the trail only when they were well ahead of her once more. The men rode in silence until they were nearing the edge of the forest, when the second hunter asked quietly, "Why did they go away, do you think? If there ever were such things."

"Who knows? Times change. Would you call this age a good one for unicorns?"

"No, but I wonder if any man before us ever thought his time a good time for unicorns. And it seems to me now that I have heard stories but I was sleepy with wine, or I was thinking of something else. Well, no matter. There's light enough yet to hunt, if we hurry. Come!"

They broke out of the woods, kicked their horses to a gallop, and dashed away. But before they were out of sight, the first hunter looked back over his shoulder and called, just as though he could see the unicorn standing in shadow, "Stay where you are, poor beast. This is no world for you. Stay in your forest, and keep your trees green and your friends long-lived. Pay no mind to young girls, for they never become anything more than silly old women. And good luck to you."

The unicorn stood still at the edge of the forest and said aloud, "I am the only unicorn there is." They were the first words she had spoken, even to herself, in more than a hundred years.

That can't be, she thought. She had never minded being alone, never seeing another unicorn, because she had always known that there were others like her in the world, and a unicorn needs no more than that for company.

"But I would know if all the others were gone. I'd be gone too. Nothing can happen to them that does not happen to me."

Her own voice frightened her and made her want to be running. She moved along the dark paths of her forest, swift and shining, passing through sudden clearings unbearably brilliant with grass or soft with shadow, aware of everything around her, from the weeds that brushed her ankles to insect-quick flickers of blue and silver as the wind lifted the leaves. "Oh, I could never leave this, I never could, not if I really were the only unicorn in the world. I know how to live here, I know how everything smells, and tastes, and is. What could I ever search for in the world, except this again?"

But when she stopped running at last and stood still, listening to crows and a quarrel of squirrels over her head, she wondered, But suppose they are riding together, somewhere far away? What if they are hiding and waiting for me?

From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else. She trotted up and down beside her pool, restless and unhappy. Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no Dec again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms. "I will not go. Because men have seen no unicorns for a while does not mean they have all vanished. Even if it were true, I would not go. I live here."

But at last she woke up in the middle of one warm night and said, "Yes, but now." She hurried through her forest, trying to look at nothing and smell nothing, trying not to feel her earth under her cloven hoofs. The animals who move in the dark, the owls and the foxes and the deer, raised their heads as she passed by, but she would not look at them. I must go quickly, she thought, and come back as soon as I can. Maybe I won't have to go very far. But whether I find the others or not, I will come back very soon, as soon as I can. Under the moon, the road that ran from the edge of her forest gleamed like water, but when she stepped out onto it, away from the trees, she felt how hard it was, and how long. She almost turned back then; but instead she took a deep breath of the woods air that still drifted to her, and held it in her mouth like a flower, as long as she could.

The long road hurried to nowhere and had no end. It ran through villages and small towns, flat country and mountains, stony barrens and meadows springing out of stones, but it belonged to none of these, and it never rested anywhere. It rushed the unicorn along, tugging at her feet like the tide, fretting at her, never letting her be quiet and listen to the air, as she was used to do. Her eyes were always full of dust, and her mane was stiff and heavy with dirt.

Time had always passed her by in her forest, but now it was she who passed through time as she traveled. The colors of the trees changed, and the animals along the way grew heavy coats and lost them again; the clouds crept or hurried before the changing winds, and were pink and gold in the sun or livid with storm. Wherever she went, she searched for her people, but she found no trace of them, and in all the tongues she heard spoken along the road there was not even a word for them any more.

Early one morning, about to turn off the road to sleep, she saw a man hoeing in his garden. Knowing that she should hide, she stood still instead and watched him work, until he straightened and saw her. He was fat, and his cheeks jumped with every step he took. "Oh," he said. "Oh, you're beautiful." When he tugged off his belt, made a loop in it, and moved clumsily toward her, the unicorn was more pleased than frightened. The man knew what she was, and what he himself was for: to hoe turnips and pursue something that shone and could run faster than he could. She sidestepped his first lunge as lightly as though the wind of it had blown her out of his reach.

"I have been hunted with bells and banners in my time," she told him. "Men knew that the only way to hunt me was to make the chase so wondrous that I would come near to see it. And even so I was never once captured." "My foot must have slipped," said the man. "Steady now, you pretty thing."

"I've never really understood," the unicorn mused as the man picked himself up, "what you dream of doing with me, once you've caught me." The man leaped again, and she slipped away from him like rain. "I don't think you know yourselves," she said.

"Ah, steady, steady, easy now." The man's sweating face was striped with dirt, and he could hardly get his breath. "Pretty," he gasped. "You pretty little mare."

"Mare?" The unicorn trumpeted the word so shrilly that the man stopped pursuing her and clapped his hands to his ears. "Mare?" she demanded. "I, a horse? Is that what you take me for? Is that what you see?"

"Good horse," the fat man panted. He leaned on the fence and wiped his face. "Curry you up, clean you off, you'll be the prettiest old mare anywhere." He reached out with the belt again. "Take you to the fair," he said. "Come on, horse."

"A horse," the unicorn said. "That's what you were trying to capture. A white mare with her mane full of burrs." As the man approached her, she hooked her horn through the belt, jerked it out of his grasp, and hurled it across the road into a patch of daisies. "A horse, am I?" she snorted. "A horse, indeed!"

For a moment the man was very close to her, and her great eyes stared into his own, which were small and tired and amazed. Then she turned and fled up the road, running so swiftly that those who saw her exclaimed, "Now there's a horse! There's a real horse!" One old man said quietly to his wife, "That's an Ayrab horse. I was on a ship with an Ayrab horse once."

From that time the unicorn avoided towns, even at night, unless there was no way at all

to go around them. Even so, there were a few men who gave chase, but always to a wandering white mare; never in the gay and reverent manner proper to the pursuit of a unicorn. They came with ropes and nets and baits of sugar lumps, and they whistled and called her Bess and Nellie. Sometimes she would slow down enough to let their horses catch her scent, and then watch as the beasts reared and wheeled and ran away with their terrified riders. The horses always knew her.

"How can it be?" she wondered. "I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns, or if they had changed so that they hated all unicorns now and tried to kill them when they saw them. But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else what do they look like to one another, then? What do trees look like to them, or houses, or real horses, or their own children?"

Sometimes she thought, "If men no longer know what they are looking at, there may well be unicorns in the world yet, unknown and glad of it." But she knew beyond both hope and vanity that men had changed, and the world with them, because the unicorns were gone. Yet she went on along the hard road, although each day she wished a little more that she had never left her Forest.

Then one afternoon the butterfly wobbled out of a breeze and lit on the tip of her horn. He was velvet all over, dark and dusty, with golden spots on his wings, and he was as thin as a flower petal. Dancing along her horn, he saluted her with his curling feelers. "I am a roving gambler. How do you do?"

The unicorn laughed for the first time in her travels. "Butterfly, what are you doing out on such a windy day?" she asked him. "You'll take cold and die long before your time."

"Death takes what man would keep," said the butterfly, "and leaves what man would lose. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks. I warm my hands before the fire of life and get four-way relief." He glimmered like a scrap of owllight on her horn.

"Do you know what I am, butterfly?" the unicorn asked hopefully, and he replied, "Excellent well, you're a fishmonger. You're my everything, you are my sunshine, you are old and gray and full of sleep, you're my pickle-face, consumptive Mary Jane." He paused, fluttering his wings against the wind, and added conversationally, "Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name."

"Say my name, then," the unicorn begged him. "If you know my name, tell it to me."

"Rumpelstiltskin," the butterfly answered happily. "Gotcha! You don't get no medal." He jigged and twinkled on her horn, singing, "Won't you come home, Bill Bailey, won't you come home, where once he could not go. Buckle down, Winsocki, go and catch a falling star. Clay lies still, but blood's a rover, so I should be called kill-devil all the parish over." His eyes were gleaming scarlet in the glow of the unicorn's horn.

She sighed and plodded on, both amused and disappointed. It serves you right, she told herself. You know better than to expect a butterfly to know your name. All they know are songs and poetry, and anything else they hear. They mean well, but they can't keep things straight. And why should they? They die so soon.

The butterfly swaggered before her eyes, singing, "One, two, three o'lairy," as he whirled; chanting, "Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, look down that lonesome road. For, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er who dotes, yet doubts. Hasten, Mirth, and bring with thee a host of furious fancies whereof I am commander, which will be on sale for three days only at bargain summer prices. I love you, I love you, oh, the horror, the horror, and aroint thee, witch, aroint thee, indeed and truly you've chosen a bad place to be lame in, willow, willow, willow." His voice tinkled in the unicorn's head like silver money falling.

He traveled with her for the rest of the waning day, but when the sun went down and the sky was full of rosy fish, he flew off her horn and hovered in the air before her. "I must take the A train," he said politely. Against the clouds she could see that his velvet wings were ribbed with delicate black veins.

"Farewell," she said. "I hope you hear many more songs" which was the best way she could think of to say good-by to a butterfly. But instead of leaving her, he fluttered above her head, looking suddenly less dashing and a little nervous in the blue evening air. "Fly away," she urged him. "It's too cold for you to be out."

But the butterfly still dallied, humming to himself. "They ride that horse you call the Macedonai," he intoned absentmindedly; and then, very clearly, "Unicorn. Old French, unicorne. Latin, unicornis. Literally, one-horned: unus, one, and cornu, a horn. A fabulous animal resembling a horse with one horn. Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold and the mate of the Nancy brig. Has anybody here seen Kelly?" He strutted joyously in the air, and the first fireflies blinked around him in wonder and grave doubt.

The unicorn was so startled and so happy to hear her name spoken at last that she overlooked the remark about the horse. "Oh, you do know me!" she cried, and the breath of her delight blew the butterfly twenty feet away. When he came scrambling back to her, she pleaded, "Butterfly, if you really know who I am, tell me if you have ever seen anyone like me, tell me which way I must go to find them. Where have they gone?"

"Butterfly, butterfly, where shall I hide?" he sang in the fading light. "The sweet and bitter fool will presently appear. Christ, that my love were in my arms, and I in my bed again." He rested on the unicorn's horn once more, and she could feel him trembling.

"Please," she said. "All I want to know is that there are other unicorns somewhere in the world. Butterfly, tell me that there are still others like me, and I will believe you and go home to my forest. I have been away so long, and I said that I would come back soon."

"Over the mountains of the moon," the butterfly began, "down the Valley of the Shadow, ride, boldly ride." Then he stopped suddenly and said in a strange voice, "No, no, listen, don't listen to me, listen. You can find your people if you are brave. They passed down all the roads long ago, and the Red Bull ran close behind them and covered their footprints. Let nothing you dismay, but don't be half-safe." His wings brushed against the unicorn's skin.

"The Red Bull?" she asked. "What is the Red Bull?"

The butterfly started to sing. "Follow me down. Follow me down. Follow me down. Follow me down." But then he shook his head wildly and recited, "His firstling bull has majesty, and his horns are the horns of a wild ox. With them he shall push the peoples, all of them, to the ends of the earth. Listen, listen, listen quickly."

"I am listening," the unicorn cried. "Where are my people, and what is the Red Bull?"

But the butterfly swooped close to her ear, laughing. "I have nightmares about crawling around on the ground," he sang. "The little dogs, Tray, Blanche, Sue, they bark at me, the little snakes, they hiss at me, the beggars are coming to town. Then at last come the clams."

For a moment more he danced in the dusk before her; then he shivered away into the violet shadows by the roadside, chanting defiantly, "It's you or me, moth! Hand to hand to hand to hand to hand" The last the unicorn saw of him was a tiny skittering between the trees, and her eyes might have deceived her, for the night was full of wings now.

At least he did recognize me, she thought sadly. That means something. But she answered herself, No, that means nothing at all, except that somebody once made up a song about unicorns, or a poem. But the Red Bull. What could he have meant by that? Another song, I suppose. She walked on slowly, and the night drew close about her. The sky was low and almost pure black, save for one spot of yellowing silver where the moon paced behind the thick clouds. The unicorn sang softly to herself, a song she had heard a young girl singing in her forest long ago.

The unicorn plodding along, down-trodden head down, in the moonlight.

"Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe,

Sooner than I will live with you.

Fish will come walking out of the sea,

Sooner than you will come back to me."

She did not understand the words, but the song made her think longingly of her home. It seemed to her that she had heard autumn beginning to shake the beech trees the very moment that she stepped out into the road.

Art Explanation

Okay, so I adore the original animation - I love the character designs and the special effects. But what really got to me were the sets. I adore painted sets in cartoons, especially the aesthetic panorama shots. (And hey, your Mom and Aunt probably saw this in theatres! Ask them.)

Now, as you may have noticed, I’m trying to put my own little style into these drawings. All the characters are inspired by previous media, but are not directly copied from them. However,this has mostly applied to clothing and character’s bodies. I enjoy figure drawing, and dislike drawing objects/a background, so I avoid it most of the time. And so I stuck to those guidelines throughout this story. Except for the last picture.

I hate drawing horses. They’re beautiful animals, but once you truly consider their shape and movement, they look so odd! So, I decided to depart from the whole ‘unicorns look like horses’ mindset. I love that kind, sure, but I enjoyed both the movie animated version, the book’s description and the really old tapestries of unicorns. As a result, my unicorn ended up looking a little feral - and I love it! I really tried to play up unusual features that I’ve rarely/never seen on a unicorn, by giving her overly long ears, visible horizontal pupils (like goats!), and a pony mane. Ponies have funny, fuzzy, overly dense manes, and I love it so much. My neighbors once fostered an almost-mini mare, named Jellybean, and she was full of personality! I say my unicorn does vaguely resemble a horse, but if you got a good look at her (even minus the horn, lion tail and cloven hooves) you can tell she isn’t really a horse.

The first picture, the title, I basically just did word art. My favorite song from the movie (it’s not a musical, it just has a very distinct and well-displayed soundtrack) is Man’s Road, by America. But considering that the title of the book is also the title of the first song (also by America), I chose that instead. The reading order may be a little wonky, but all the lyrics are there! I kept on messing up with the spacing/lyrics, so I kept having to cover up the mistakes with little slips of paper and then erasing the shadows when I took a picture! Lol.

The second picture, with the Unicorn running, was difficult but fun. I just kept telling myself that I was actually drawing a goat, not a horse, and that lowered my anxiety and annoyance about it a little! I drew her running because she’s an upset herbivore, and that’s kind of their thing. Even though I hated the extra time it took, I’m glad I drew the tree and the owl. It makes Unicorn seem a little less lonely. I drew a basic form for each of them, because frankly the book isn’t super consistent about its time and place. It mostly has medieval themes, but then one character makes burritos for dinner later in the story. So, basic owl and tree.

The unicorn rearing as picture number 3 wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been. In one of your cousin’s last stories (The Man From Snowy River), I had also drawn a horse rearing, so I had recent practice. Still, not a fun animal to draw XD. I realize I put myself in this mess but still. I only have tops three horses to draw from this project, so I’m looking forward to being done with it! THe part I enjoyed most about this drawing was the hair on her hooves and her tail. I really want to make it clear that this unicorn is very fluffy, like a dandelion. Although her look of disdain came out pretty well! Also, this is just my personal interpretation but I think the daisies ar ewhite with yellow centers. But if you like the other type, go right ahead!

The fourth picture, with the butterfly on the horn, was fun and easy. It was kind of like my ‘break’ picture. All I had to do was make the line of separation going around the horn spaced smaller and smaller as time went on. Like the other animals in this story, I also made the butterfly relatively unidentifiable; while many have an outline around the edge of their wings and eye-like spots on them, I did not specifically copy any butterfly. It all was supposed to be a thin and easy picture to integrate into the text, but I decided to make things hard on myself lol. But back to the unicorn horn. As I was writing this, I realized that since the line on a unicorn’s horn is a spiral, it ought to match up with the Fibonacci sequence (more on that in the next paragraph). Since unicorn horns were based on the narwhal tusks that wash up on a beach occasionally, just like how dinosaur skeletons inspired dragons, I looked up narwhal tusks. As far as I could find, there is no direct information on whether narwhal tusks match up with the sequence - but apparently elephant tusks and ram horns match up, so I think that’s a good sign. As such, narwhals probably have spirals on their tusks that correspond with the sequence, and so do unicorns. That being said, I, uhhhh, didn’t think of that while drawing it. So don’t use my unicorn horn as a reference lol.

Now, the Fibonacci sequence is a series of proportions found in much of nature - usually only an extremely mutated individual doesn’t match up with the sequence. Anything that has a spiral, or even a curve, often lines up with the numbers. Now, look at this shell cut in half - it has a very pretty spiral, right? Start at zero, and then measure the very innermost section,and call it one unit. The next section will be the same size. But the next would be twice that size. Then three units big. Then five units. Then eight. And so on and on. Each section would be bigger than the other, in that exact sequence. All over the world, you can find this sequence - even in art! A lot of Islamic art, which is often based on geometric patterns, showcases the sequence, as does some Renaissance art later on, and many people even use it today. One of the other fun things about the fibonacci sequence is that its an adding game! Look at the first seven numbers {0,1,1,2,3,5,8 …}, like I mentioned above. If you add two numbers together, they equal the next number. 0+1=1, 1+1=2, 1+2=3, 2+3=5, 3+5=8, 5+8=13, an infinity.

Well, back to the less tangential unicorn pictures! Number five, which is the picture of the Red Bull chasing a different (older) unicorn, is also something I decided to only base it partly on the original movie art. The movie’s bull kind of looked like a pig? It was something about the beady eyes, wrinkly face and the comparatively stubby legs. Also, cows don’t have front teeth on the top half of their mouths. So along with making the red bull more fire related (I loved putting the small blaze between his horns) I tried to make him look like a Jersey steer I know, but angry and toothy. I haven’t drawn a cow in a very long time (I used to draw a ton of animals, but I draw mostly people now lol), so while I think he still looks very recognizably like a cattle, he also looks a little … different. Last week my roommate and I were talking about the old Ice Age movies that came out when we were kids (they’re good, just remember to not be a butt about how the CGI has aged.), and upon consideration, I realized he kind of looks like the platybelodons from those movies. They’re no longer accurate representations, and somehow less scary looking than the accurate versions lol. But it’s just a happy (?) coincidence.

Last picture is the Unicorn walking off into the distance. I really wanted to capture the absolutely beautiful backgrounds and painted sets Rankin-Bass used, so I attempted a sketch of a background. I chose a somewhat easy one, and became super-involved with it. I really like how it turned out! Unfortunately, I had forgotten one thing - the Unicorn! So unfortunately, since I had to draw her on a separate paper and then cut her out, I had to draw her somewhat big and she ended up blocking part of the scene. Oh well. So I’ve included the original below :).

I really hope you enjoyed this and decide to check this book out! It’s an oldie but a goodie :D.

Colored in versions of the cool scenery.

Edit 23 April 2024: I made an additional drawing due to a WAC winner request! So totally sweet. You can check it out here! It’s from a later part of the book.

[nemeseos-noctua]

THIS IS FOR AETHER AND ALBEDO PLS--

May I request for a shy S/O that wants to kiss a certain area (For Aether: his tummy, For Albedo: the spark on his neck) they're just oddly attracted to it and wanna bury their nose against it I'msosorryifthisisweirdaha :"D

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: aether, albedo (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: albedo and aether might be a little ooc? does aether even have a character? also not proofread (is that even a surprise anymore)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: once again written at 12am! 12am is writing time yall idk what to tell u

he honestly won’t notice at first... and he won’t notice until you tell him

i mean, don’t get me wrong— he’s definitely aware of the way your [e/c] eyes trail down to his stomach... and he’s definitely going to blush and look away when you do

but still! okay! he thinks you’re just, err, looking! not like, you wanted to kiss him! or anything! nope! not at all!

(aether is such a child pls why is he like this just KISS)

“Oh, [Y/N]! Paimon and I were looking for y—“ Aether tilted his head, confused as to why your eyes were avoiding him like the plague.

“... [Y/N]?” Aether repeated once more, waving his gloved hands in front of you as you cleared your throat.

“Ah, Aether! Yes, did you need anything?” You responded, still looking away from the Traveler as he raised his eyebrows.

shuffling to the side so he can stare at you fully, you kept craning your head away from him no matter how much he moved into your sight

cupping his gloved hands over your cheek, aether tilted your head to gaze into his golden orbs, its hues flickering with confusion as paimon’s barfing noises could be heard behind the blonde

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to do my commissions with me... but is something wrong?” He asked, completely oblivious to the way you struggled to not stare at the skin below his croptop... was Aether always this fine?

“Nope! Nothing at all!” You tapped the side of your thigh anxiously, waiting for Aether to let go of you— which he cautiously did.

“Okay... but if something’s wrong, be sure to tell me, okay?” Aether spoke softly, his worry sending your heart aflame as you stiffly nodded.

you felt so bad for staring at aether (even though he was your man) but PLEASE did he have to be this fine?!

you. you can literally see his abs. like. the outline. like. like, like—

anyways!

after the two of you completed your commissions and checked in for the night, you waited until paimon left to eat everything at good hunter to confess your embarrassment to aether

look. if you were gonna stare, you were at least going to make aether aware of such beliefs... because, it was kind of embarrassing otherwise

“Ah, Aether...” You looked away, edging slowly to your side of the tent as the blonde merely hummed, staring up at the roof of the tent.

“Yes?”

“Sorry.”

“Huh? For what?” The Traveler turned over to you, gazing at you in confusion as you fiddled nervously with your fingers.

“Ah... uh, for staring at you.”

Stifling a laugh, Aether merely gazed at you and all of your adorable-ness. Why were you apologizing? You were literally his s/o! 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything of harm,” The male reassured you, a comforting smile painting his features as your mind blared the most embarrassing thought ever.

I want to kiss you. You thought.

“You can.”

“What?” You yelped, eyes wide as Aether avoided your gaze, his cheeks dusting with a blush so soft he looked like a calla lily under the dim moonlight.

“No, wait! I mean—” Covering your face with your hands, both Aether and you were short-circuiting.

if you really want to kiss his stomach, you’re going to have to tell him... cuz aether ain’t the brightest when it comes to romance cues! 

you wanna kiss him? sure! you wanna kiss his stomach? su—wait what?

“... i wanna kiss your, eh... stomach,” you manage to stifle out before faceplanting into the floor of the tent. why? why?! NANDE NANDE NANDE NANDE— (jk lol)

aether was silent. i mean, not that that’s new or anything, but you could hear crickets

“i... okay!” aether sat up, his face exploding a bright red it matched the fire outside

“no! aether! you don’t have to—“ 

pulling you into his chest, aether looked away from you, closing his eyes as if all of his embarrassment would go away

“Eh?! What the heck is going on here?!” Paimon whisper-screamed, stumbling into the tent— only to see the sight of you and Aether’s limbs tangled together, your head resting atop the blonde’s toned stomach.

“Blegh!!” The mascot rushed out of the tent, vomiting at the sight of her companion being all lovey-dovey.

Disgusting!

he’d notice you staring at his neck pretty quickly

he’s very perceptive, thanks to his alchemy and him having to observe the tiniest of elemental reactions—you staring at the star on his skin is no biggie

in all honesty, he’d find amusement in teasing you about how obvious you’re being. like, oh? you want to kiss his neck? why don’t you tell him so? 

BUT HE MEANS IT ALL LOVINGLY! 

it’s okay. just kiss him fr and he’ll shut up 🙄🙄

“Is something the matter, [Y/N]?” Albedo quipped smugly, watching your eyes avoid his as you fiddled nervously with the pencil on your table.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm... is that so?”

Finding amusement in your hesitance, Albedo resumed his studies. The hour hand of the clock seemed to move quickly—too quickly for the alchemist to comprehend. He swore the sun rose just two hours ago! What did the clock mean it was midnight?!

Sighing for the nth time, Albedo pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at the letters that scattered the pages, your figure moving like a candlelight in the peripherals of his vision. 

Tugging at the hem of his coat, the alchemist turned towards you in an uncharacteristic confusion. Albedo was so used to knowing the ins and outs of everything he laid his eyes upon—it was a part of being an alchemist— but when it came to you, it seemed as though you were some kind of unreadable book that’d take years to translate.

But perhaps, that was your charm. 

“albedo needs some sleep” you thought, getting up to usher him to bed

knowing he would decline your invitation, you mustered up the courage to do the unthinkable:

kiss his neck.

“You need some rest, Albedo,” You hummed, resting your chin on his shoulder as the alchemist swore he melted. If it were under any circumstance (if he wasn’t experimenting), he would’ve obliged in a heartbeat. But right now, he was busy! He was about to make a scientific breakthrough and—

The “I can’t,” that was about to slip from his tongue was quickly swallowed back down. 

His teal eyes widened once your lips came into contact with the star on his neck, his adam’s apple hanging right above the galactic pattern as his face exploded in a red cascade of blush. 

“Okay, I’ll go to bed first,” You shuffled to the bedroom, your footsteps clumsy from the way your mind fogged over with embarrassment, joy, content, and anxiousness.

Covering his nose and mouth with the back of his arm, Albedo straightened up—still suffering from a severe case of love.

Agh—why did you have to do this to him?

Resting his elbows on the table before him, the alchemist stared blankly at the wooden material, the redness on his face never leaving.

Just how was he going to experiment now?

— constellations!