Eddie munson working at a Waffle House is so....*chef's kiss* Reader, who is black, starts as a server because they're looking to just scrap by while in college.

Eddie is worried at first. He knows the patrons that walk through the door aren't always the nicest. A lot of drunk people. Sometimes people are just looking for a fight. He makes it his mental mission to keep an eye out for you. You're sweet. A lot of the guys come in and flirt with you.

You almost always laugh it off. It makes Eddie feel like it's going to make the wrong impression.

That is, until one guy comes in belligerently drunk. He's shouting, slurring his words--he's overall a messy drunk and Eddie, who'd been taking a smoke break immediately snuffs it out.

The guy slumps into the booth and you walk over, menus in hand. You stay behind the counter, like you're supposed to, you hand the guy the menu. But he grins up at you and reaches right for your chest.

Before Eddie can cross the room, you've decked the asshole square in the nose. Eddie freezes for a moment, eyes widen and then as the guy starts to push up from the table, Eddie kicks back into gear. The rest of the guys in the kitchen come rushing out too. It's the entire Waffle House against this guy. He doesn't even get fully up but you hit him again.

It's clear that you're pissed. Your eyes are unfocused and you're breathing hard. So Eddie hauls the guy out. It's not easy--he's almost twice the size of Eddie, but the two solid punches you've landed plus his own drunkness help. So Eddie all but throws the guy onto the curb and then comes back inside to see another linecook wrapping your knuckles. Gingerly he cuts in, adjusting the wrap a little.

"You okay?" Eddie asks.

"I should've killed him," you mutter.

"Still got time," he laughs. "Anything hurt?" He's trying to keep is snug enough but not cutting off circulation.

"If it's not broken, it's bruised like a bitch."

Eddie gets the wrap finished, sliding his fingers over your knuckles and palm then you your fingers. "Oh," he tsks, taking in the sight of two of your nails that broke. Nothing that damaged your natural nail underneath. He's seen that happen a few time to the other girls.

"I have an appointment Saturday," you shrug it off.

"Can I pick the color?" he teases.

"What do you know about that?" you gape.

Eddie winks when you finally settle your gaze on him. "I've been around the block a time or two. But you're blue right now. I think red would be nice."

"Red and black."

"Just in time for Halloween," he teases.

When you come into work on Sunday, he absolutely hollers for you to come into the kitchen. You've barely had time to get your apron on. He checks out your nails with a whistle. "Bet they'd look better digging into my back don't you think?"

"If we survive this shift, we'll have to see about that."

Eddie who is not religious signs the cross over his chest. "May God be with us. Because you're going to need him tonight, honey."

-H

OH MY GOD ILYSM 😍 this is amazing and exactly what we need 🙌🏽

Exactly how I see Waffle House!eddie in my mind. He’s always getting into it Janice who’s also his neighbor. Janice isn’t a Karen but she stays on Eddie’s ass because he’s a menace and gets on her nerves

Janice gives waffle house wendy vibes! Eddie’s seen her jacket sleeve catch fire and she out it out with her hand!

lead waitress Miss Minnie brought him into the Waffle House family. She’s loved by everyone in Hawkins and she’s the mother, therapist, doctor, lawyer, teacher, pastor, and then some all wrapped in one body. People go to her for everything and she’s always helping even when people don’t deserve her help.

You’re the sweetest girl he’s ever seen walk into this establishment and he instantly has a crush on you the new waitress. I can see jeff also working here, maybe miss Minnie is his auntie! And they all tease him for having a crush on you! “You got it bad white boy” Jeff laughs.

You and Eddie fuck behind the building while on breaks 😭 I think Janice catches y’all one time and this is probably how she starts calling you titmouse! She didn’t learn your name anyway because no other waitress has stuck around other than the ones they already have so she knows you’ll quit eventually so why learn your name 😭

Y’all both work the night shift on stuardays so y’all literally see everybody in Hawkins stop by. The basketball team comes by after their big win and Jason starts shit because his waffles are cold. So Eddie comes out because nobody is gonna talk to miss Minnie like that! And Eddie and Jason start fighting and the players with girlfriends get involved so now here you are with the other Waffle House girls throwing waffle batter and plates😭

And if it’s modern, in the corner booth robin takes out her phone to record everything! “Dingus your hair is in the way move! This is my Scorsese moment”

And the entire kitchen staff is yelling “go white boy go white boy go!” As he’s whoppin Jason’s ass. Just like that cosplay video 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭 now I’ve never been to a Waffle House because we don’t have that out here BUT I have been to a red lobster on easter and ihop at 1 am and it’s basically Waffle House adjacent 😭 I love my people

Criminally Underused Bird Nicknames for Jaskier

I love "Lark" as much as the next Witcher fic reader, but there are so many more options we could explore! Here are a few:

Jay / Bluejay This one has excellent potential because 1) jays are incredibly beautiful, colorful, intelligent, and social and 2) their songs are terrible. (Examples here, here, and here.) As such, it'd be perfect for a fond-yet-teasing nickname for Jaskier. Plus, it sounds like the first letter of his name!

Magpie Magpies are corvids like jays, so they're similar in many ways. This one has the extra connotations of collecting shiny things for bonus fun teasing <3

Sparrow Sparrows have lovely songs! They tend not to be very colorful, but they're very cute and the name sounds endearing. I've seen this one used in fic occasionally and I like it!

Sanderling Sanderling is an adorable name for an adorable bird -- they're little sandpipers that run around on beaches! It works perfectly as a reference to Jaskier's role as the Sandpiper and I think it's really sweet.

Peep Peep is a general term for the smallest few species of sandpipers (they're hard to identify at the species level, so calling them peeps is most convenient). It's similar to Sanderling in that it references Jaskier's role as the Sandpiper and sounds adorable!

Bonus: Songbird I have seen this one used in a few fics and I love it every time! It's vague enough to let you imagine whichever bird you want while also sounding very sweet.

Extra options include, but are not limited to: warbler, finch/goldfinch, nightengale, robin, kinglet, titmouse, mockingbird, and starling.

Hey there! I read you are running low on ideas for morpheus? I haven't read anything where He first meets the reader and i really need that aaah, how about something where he visits some dreams and reader's dream stands out bc she is incredible nice to animals even in dreams and all? Idk maybe smth like this?

Taglist: @mm2305 @mess-in-side @murnsondock @blossomedfloweroflove @dinonuggett @kuchokitty @lex-the-flex @musemaniac42

Morpheus has bore witness to many a dream since his realms conception. Some were of obtaining power, some of possessing an abundance of wealth, riches and royalties, some of marrying their childhood sweethearts, some of revenge whilst others were birthed of their innermost desires to reconcile with people they’ve long since casted out of their hearts; resurfacing when they are struck with news of their unfortunate passing.

Human emotions were complex to an endless like himself but understood that he and his siblings would be perceived just as complex if not more so in equal regard. Which rises a question of how could there be some many dissimilarities between mortals and immortals but yet so many similarities that it almost cancels each other out; Immortals and mortals were so different in so many aspects yet somehow so alike in contrast it was almost paradoxical to solve with a straight forward answer.

Which then leads Morpheus to another particularly popular question of how does a god spout nonsensical babble of being greater then a mortal whilst also making the exact same mistakes as one. Were their egos so inflated -as once was his- to the point that they are blinded by the their own power bestowed unto them by the very humans that gifted them life and their powers through myths and stories of their valiant efforts? Believing it to be of their own creation rather then from a power higher then them or the people who believed in their existence, praying nightly in their name as they sat gloating victories that were never theirs?

Utter nonsense is what Morpheus thought of all it that bravado, for without humans they’d be without power, without a stronghold, without the very weapons that they are synonymous with, fading back into the obscurity that of which the first of mankind dragged them from the depths of with the power of their dreams, their desires and willpower that gave the endless their share of power. Morpheus was blessed to have been bestowed such a lesson by his beloved older sister, death, living by it day by day as a reminder of his intended purpose and existence was to serve not to be served like he once thought.

So as he moved fluidly from one dream to the next he had found himself within a vast field, free from man made structures and vehicular modes of transportation. In fact there wasn’t a single human in sight that Morpheus wondered if he was just in one of the many fields of the dreaming, waiting for something to happen; instead he found such as birds such as titmouse, blue tits, robins, ravens, crows to domesticated animals to the more dangerous animals likes of tigers, panthers, deer, hyenas and cheetahs sat together in perfect harmony without their primal instincts overtaking them.

Curious, the dream lord weaved with grace as within the blink of an eye, a tree appeared before him and beneath it, you were sat with birds of extinct specifies perched across your shoulders as though they were branches and Morpheus knew then and there that you must be one knowledgeable human if you frequently dreamt of extinct birds and took note of the pair of wolves perched on your lap, looking up at you like puppies, hanging off of your every word as you ran your fingers through their fur.

An animal lover, that’s what you were and making connections to them was your dream, even towards the most deadliest but in a respectable way that proved to Morpheus that human kindness did exist and you were the living embodiment of it. Though how one perceived themselves through their dreams was vastly different to how they actually were within their waking life; An illusion within a dream one could call it. Yet there was something about your dreams that told him that this was no facade, that this was you bearing your heart within your dreams and everything you do that it practically explodes in an array of bright vibrant colours that encompasses your dreamscape in everything you are and everything you dreamt, you desired to be one day.

Your dream felt like a cosy blanket or an warm embrace from a loved one against Morpheus’s skin; kissing it gingerly as though he’d crack like porcelain beneath the tender caresses of a passing breeze. It felt Uniquely your own but every dream had a distinct feel or smell to them but your had to be his favourite by far as just merry stepping within your creation Morpheus has felt more at ease then he ever had in his entire life; he could even himself being lured into a state of relaxation where he could feel the weight of his eyelids hanging dangerously close to the apples of his cheeks and how all he wanted was to rest beneath the shade of the tree you were under and listen in on your voice as though it were a lullaby a mother would sing to her child.

His thoughts had long since gone silent and left his mind a tired mess but he knew he couldn’t stay within your dream as long as he would’ve liked in the instance that you would pick up on a presence that didn’t belong. So with a final glance your way to see that you had already stood up from your spot under the tree and had been staring at him with a curious glimmer in your eyes with your mouth slightly agape as if you wanted to say something but your mind was preoccupied elsewhere. Morpheus now knew he couldn’t stay any longer and with a wave of a hand he utter the words. “This dream is over.” As all went dark within your dream.

"Screaming childbirth hooked him behind the sternum, and a thousand glowing screens infested with a hundred thousand vile truths lashed him between the shoulders." - what's this passage about? It stuck in my mind a bit but I can's determine what it's refering to

Some background to make sense of what will be a sort of vague answer (sorry):

Agent Hooper was originally developed for a Call of Cthulhu campaign that I ran for @taylor-titmouse , @amphiaria , @gchoule and @cafiffle years back. When I set out to write The Dogs at Duskfall, based in Taylor's setting and incorporating his protagonist, I thought it would be funny to create a kind of parallel text to The Hounds of Tindalos (a story by Frank Belknap Long, one of H.P. Lovecraft's friends, set within his fictional universe).

What you need to understand about that choice is that I hate Lovecraft's writing with a passion, and I think The Hounds of Tindalos is somehow even worse. It's not just the small minded social/philosophical outlook that Lovecraft took in his life and fiction, it's that I think his prose is insanely uninteresting and poorly constructed and he gets a lot of undue credit for doing not very much at all.

One of my most vehement and petty beefs is that the 'master of describing the indescribable' hardly ever actually describes anything with any nuance or specificity. Don't get me wrong, leaving the monsters out of frame and describing the shadows they cast is a long and noble horror tradition and can be super effective, but play that trick more than once and I'm going to start asking why. What are the implications? What are you trying to evoke from the audience? Why did you choose the details you chose and obscure the things you obscured? What are you drawing out of the reader's imagination beyond "imagine the scariest thing you've ever seen. now imagine that x100. it was scarier than that."

The point I'm getting to is that I tried to put my money where my mouth was with The Dogs at Duskfall. In writing sequences like the one you're quoting, where Roger comes into contact with disorienting scraps of human experience, I tried to walk that line between describing (literal sensations, events and ideas) and some kind of undescribing (decontextualising and confusing them in ways that get across the subjective 'indescribable' experience Roger is going through). Whether that succeeded is down to the reader, but at the very least I hope it's more interesting than just saying 'madness' a lot and assuring that you wouldn't be able to comprehend the scene if you tried.

(If you don't know what this post is about, check out the monsterfucker erotica I wrote for Taylor Titmouse)

❝ prompt: puppy play. ❞

Another Vern and Hawk fic. For context, Vern was trapped in the Upside Down for a while before this and is still recovering. Rick is their big German Shepherd! Hawk is @deardmvz’s baby.

↪ 2658 words — 18+ / SMUT — tw for non-reader fic, panic attacks, vomiting, pet play, and crying.

Vern wakes with a start, sitting up in bed. He puts a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath his palm. The air conditioner emits a rattling noise that makes his skin crawl. 

His brain is buzzing with anxiety. He looks over to make out the dark shape of Hawk sleeping soundly, blankets gently rising and falling with his breathing, the occasional stuttering snore escaping from him.

Rick looks up at him from the edge of the bed, head tilting to the side, his fluffy ears twitching.

Vern releases a shaky breath and slips out from under the covers, fumbling to put his legs on before stumbling towards the door. The black-out curtains leave their bedroom entirely dark, but the rest of the house is lit in a cool morning blue as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. 

He pads down the hallway, leaning one hand against the wall to support him, body feeling light and fatigued. Rick walks along that side of him as well, letting Vern lean some of his weight on the shepherd’s large figure. 

He manages to make it to the bathroom before falling to his knees in front of the toilet. He gags and chokes, stomach twisting with anxiety. Rick licks his arm as he vomits. The contents burn his throat, coming up liquid-y and mostly clear.

He climbs back to his feet when he’s done, flushing the toilet before heading through the kitchen and living room.

He pulls open the heavy wooden front door, letting it thud against the wall, followed by the screen door that he holds open long enough for Rick to pass before it swings loudly shut behind him.

He stumbles to the edge of the porch and plops down, pulling his legs close to his body and crisscrossing them. He runs a hand through his sweat-slick hair, shivering at the chilly breeze that brushes his damp and heated skin.

Rick lays down to the left of him, setting his big head down on Vern’s lap. Vern lets his eyes flutter closed, lashes stuck together with sweat and residual tears, listening to the morning birds chirping and singing away. The rustling of leaves soothes him. The air is thick with morning dew, small clouds of fog drifting along the damp grass. 

He wraps his arms around his own torso, an involuntary sob slipping from his lips as he begins to cry, shaking from more than just the cold now.

He takes in gasping, shuddering breaths, trying his best to fall silent when he hears the floorboards creaking from within the house. 

Hawk coughs and gags, spitting into the sink. There’s the sound of shuffling and ceramic clinking. The gurgling and bubbling of the coffee maker running. The tinkling of the coffee streaming into the pot. 

Vern wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand as Hawk steps through the doorway, metal creaking. He sits down beside Vern with only enough room between them for Hawk to set down one of the coffee mugs, the one with the cardinal painted on it, the other plain mug cupped in Hawk’s right hand. He takes a sip of his dark coffee, then a drag of the cigarette snug between

his left pointer and middle fingers.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Vern quietly sniffling, coffee untouched. A tufted titmouse lands a few feet away from them, hopping around, pecking at unseeable bugs within the damp grass before taking off.

“Bad dream?” Hawk finally speaks, his voice more gruff than usual, scratchy with sleep. His words are thick around the cloud of smoke he exhales.

Vern shrugs, turning his head ever so slightly to stare. His chops are wild and unkempt, long hair knotted and tangled. He looks tired, still trying to wake up. He’s wearing a ratty old band shirt with some stained sweatpants, fluffy slippers pulled on. Vern’s just in his briefs and a tight t-shirt. The condensation on the porch is making his ass wet.

“I don’t remember it,” Vern begins. “Just… that it was...” he exhales, releasing a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping defeatedly. He gestures vaguely, unsure of how to describe it.

Hawk nods, pursing his lips in a tight, ingenuine smile.

“Think you could stomach some breakfast?”

“I don’t know,” Vern shrugs again.

“Could you try? For me, maybe? Just some scrambled eggs, and I got that Texas toast you like from the store yesterday.”

Vern remains quiet for a moment, pulling at a loose thread on the hem of his boxers. He finally lets out a shaky sigh, giving a small nod of his head.

“Good man,” Hawk smiles, scooping up the untouched mug and climbing to his feet. “It’s cold out, lovey, why don’tchu come inside, huh?”

“Alright,” Vern murmurs, shakily standing. Rick rises with him, acting as a support once again. Hawk holds the door open for him as he passes, hobbling into the kitchen nook to collapse into one of the wooden chairs, the seat creaking under his weight. 

He lays his arms on the table, burying his face into them. His stomach is sickenly empty and it growls at the smell of the eggs and toast being cooked. His body is so tired, and he doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep until he’s waking up to Hawk soothing his hand through his hair. It’s longer now, past his chin when it’s not slicked back. He hasn’t cut it ever since he came back.

He slowly lifts his head back up, Hawk keeping his warm hand at the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb in little circles. He looks up and Hawk gently smiles.

“Sorry, know you could use the sleep but, food’s done. Need you to eat.”

Vern nods, a little dazed, feeling out of place. 

Hawk sets two plates down, sitting across from Vern as he begins to dig into his food. Vern stares at his own for a moment before picking up a fork with shaky hands. He weakly scoops up a small amount of eggs and shovels them into his mouth, chewing slowly. Hawk watches him eat and smiles again.

Progress.

Vern manages to eat the entirety of his eggs and toast, his stomach luckily settled for the time being. Despite it, the thoughts begin to swell and buzz again as Hawk stands up to wash the two plates. He sets his elbows on the table, pressing the ridge of his palms to his eyes as he cries. 

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Hawk urges as he comes back over, placing a big hand on Vern’s shoulder. Vern shakes his head, voice thick with mucus as he speaks, his tone almost petulant.

“M’not tired anymore.”

“Vern, sweetheart,” Hawk sighs. Not disappointed, never disappointed, just… sad. He crouches down beside Vern, pulling at his wrists, urging him to turn sideways in his chair to face him. “Can you look at me, Georgie?”

Vern sniffles, taking a moment before he finally looks up to meet Hawk’s gaze, his own eyes red and puffy, dark circles swelling underneath them.

“Why don’t we play, huh? Would you like that? Try and get you out of your head for a bit,” he presses his hand to the side of Vern’s cheek, smiling when Vern nuzzles into his palm. Vern emits a whine, closer to a squeak, far in the back of his throat as he nods. There are still tears slowly streaming down his face, and Hawk carefully wipes them away as they fall. 

“Alright,” Hawk lets his hands trail down, gently working to slip Vern’s legs free. “Let’s just get these off real quick.”

He gently sets the prosthetics aside, grabbing Vern around his torso to carry him into the living room, Vern clinging tight to him like an ape. It takes some prying to get him off, gently setting him down onto the floor, helping him maneuver until he’s on his knees facing the La-Z-Boy. 

“Good boy,” Hawk praises, scratching at the back of his neck, “Stay.”

Vern takes a deep, shuddering breath, listening to the retreating footsteps of Hawk heading down the hall and into their bedroom. He returns momentarily, the soft sound of metal jingling permeating from behind Vern.

Hawk settles onto his knees with a grunt. He carefully brings the leather collar around, snuggly fitting it around Vern’s neck. He loops it shut, slipping two fingers in between the thick material and Vern’s throat, humming pleasantly at the perfect fit. 

“Just going to pull these down a bit,” Hawk whispers, pressing a kiss to Vern’s shoulder, over one of the many moles that scatter his pale skin. Vern lets out a little gasp at the cold lube pressing against his hole.

Hawk shushes him, his forehead resting between Vern’s shoulder blades. Vern’s careful to keep his hands where they’ve been positioned on his thighs. Hawk’s thick finger slips into him easily. He works Vern open slow and sweet, taking his time to stretch him out on three of his digits, basking in the tiniest little moans and whimpers Vern makes. 

Hawk pushes the sizeable plug past Vern’s stretched and puffy rim, watching how easily he gives to the intrusion. He slides his boxers back up over his ass, picks up the small remote, and steps around Vern to settle into his chair with a relaxed groan.

He flicks the toy onto the lowest setting, smiling at Vern’s shocked gasp, the way his hips involuntarily rock forward as the plug begins to buzz within him. He already looks a little out of it, though Hawk blames it mostly on the lack of sleep.

“Come on, boy,” Hawk urges, patting his thigh, “y’can hump my leg, if you want.”

Vern whines and shuffles forward, carefully straddling Hawk’s foot. His hands grip tight just below Hawk’s knee as he begins to rut his hips forward, mewling at the rough contact to his leaking cock, dampening the front of his briefs. 

Hawk hums approvingly, switching on the TV to idly watch the morning news. He occasionally flickers the speed of the vibrations, bringing it up and down based on how needy Vern’s sounds get, on how close he is to his orgasm. 

He looks down when Vern leans his cheek against the top of his knee, his tongue lolled out as he pants, hips stiltedly working against his calf. Hawk runs his fingers along the expensive black leather of the color, tugging on it ever so slightly to make Vern moan. 

He strokes a hand through Vern’s sweat-slick hair before pulling back to fumble with his sweats, shoving them down enough to pull his cock free. Vern whines, eyes fluttering shut.

“C’mere, boy, just for you,” Hawk urges with a hand at the back of Vern’s head. Vern goes easily, freeing one hand from his grip on Hawk’s leg to hold Hawk’s cock steady as he laps at it, wet and sloppy, occasionally drifting up to suckle at the flushed red tip. Hawk notices Vern’s hips cease moving and gives him a few soft taps to the side of his head. “Keep doing your thing, lovey.”

Vern slowly begins to pick up his pace again, nails digging into the thin cotton of Hawk’s sweatpants as he nears his orgasm, moaning and crying. His eyes are completely glazed over, eyes half-lidded and drool leaking out of his mouth. Hawk’s never seen him so far gone, deciding to take pity on him and put the vibrator on the highest setting.

The toy buzzes incessantly as Vern’s moans get louder and louder, his hips stiltedly bucking and hole clenching tight as he comes, burying his face again Hawk’s skin, where his thighs meet the base of his cock.

Hawk quickly switches the vibe off, running his fingers through Vern’s hair as he comes down. They take a few minutes before Vern is shifting out of Hawk's way so he can tuck his still hard cock back into his sweats. He reaches down, slipping his hand underneath Vern’s briefs to slowly pull the plug free.

Hawk sets the toy aside on the tea table and lifts Vern up into his arms, carrying him to the bathroom. He’s grateful he’s maintained his strength, easily holding Vern in one arm while he begins to run a bath with the other. 

Once the tub fills with hot water he sets Vern down within it, slowly to let him adjust to the temperature. He pulls his wet briefs and shirt off afterward, trying to limit the amount of time they’re separated. He quickly strips and climbs in behind Vern, pulling him tight to his front.

Vern is already half asleep, head lolling forward tiredly. His eyes are still glazed, his mind fuzzy and hazy. Hawk instinctively begins to rub little circles with his palm over Vern’s stomach, slowly applying pressure in a type of massage. It’s something he started doing after Vern came back in an attempt to soothe his consistent stomach aches.

It’s developed into a bit of a fetish for Vern, though, and he moans brokenly as Hawk presses down, digging the heel of his palm into his abdomen.

Hawk lets out a soft, content breath as Vern gently grinds back against his half-hard cock, never having fully softened. He presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to Vern’s throat as he grips tight at his hips, picking him up out of the water just enough to sit him down on his cock.

His dick slides into him surprisingly easily and Hawk groans low and deep, drowned out by Vern’s desperate mewls as Hawk slowly begins to roll his hips upward, grinding into the tight, wet clutch.

Hawk fumbles with the shampoo dispenser, squirting some into his hand before reaching to wrap around Vern’s cock, coaxing him back to full hardness, his free hand still massaging at the younger’s abdomen.

“That’s my good boy,” Hawk breathes out against Vern’s ear, voice gravelly. Vern sobs in response, his cock giving a hearty twitch in Hawk’s hand. 

Hawk lets himself get lost in the sensation—the warm, wet heat of Vern’s body. The soft noises that escape past Vern’s lips as he rolls his head back against Hawk’s shoulder.

His back suddenly arches as he squeaks out a moan. Hawk strokes him through his orgasm, milking him. Vern clenching down around him is enough to bring him to the brink. He gently bears his teeth against Vern’s flesh as he comes with a rush of air blown through his teeth.

Vern’s body sags forward, going entirely limp. Hawk has to wrap both arms around his torso to keep his face out of the water. Hawk takes a moment to catch his breath before fully pulling Vern back against him, hooking his chin over Vern’s shoulder to look at his face.

He smiles at the sight that greets him; Vernon blissfully asleep. His eyes are peacefully closed, mouth slightly agape as he takes slow, even breaths. The fading flush on his cheeks reveals the dark spatter of freckles against pale skin over the bridge of his nose. 

Hawk pulls the plug on the tub, using the fall bar to help pull himself up, his other arm tediously cradling Vern. He turns him around so he can carry him easier, padding into their bedroom.

He settles Vern onto his side of the bed, pulling the blankets over his curled-up form before moving to the opposite end and crawling in beside him. 

Vern stirs slightly at the movement, eyes fluttering open for a second with a confused whimper.

“Jus’ me, lovey, it’s jus’ me,” Hawk soothes, pressing a chaste, quick little kiss to Vern’s lips, soothing his hand through his hair. 

Vern hums contentedly, quickly falling back into his slumber. Hawk lets out a relieved sigh, wrapping his arms around Vern’s body and pulling him close, more than happy to just sit and hold Vern while he naps.

The Interesting Tufted Titmouse is a Full Time Florida Resident

The Interesting Tufted Titmouse is a Full Time Florida Resident shows readers a couple images of a tufted titmouse that lives near the author/artist’s house. It discusses the resident birds and their preferences at feeding time.

Decisions For many, many years I have fed the birds and squirrels near my house. During spring and fall migration periods I will occasionally see some interesting species coming through and staying for a meal or two, but most of the time it’s my residents that I see out there. Momma and Poppa cardinal live here all year as do a number of others including this tufted titmouse (Baeolophus…

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Puffin penguin

Maybe we'll get a fox sparrow? I have to give a program at the St Paul Library on Saturday afternoon, but plan on being at Lowry in the morning for some good birding times. He and Mark will be publicly banding birds-should be pretty good bird wise with the temperatures changing and warmer weather. And if you enjoy MN Bird Nerd's blog and banding, be sure to head out to Lowry Nature Center this Saturday. Przeczytaj recenzj Penguin Readers Level 2: The Puffin Keeper ELT Graded Reader. He also has another post up about a possible junco/white-throated sparrow hybrid as well. Ksika Penguin Readers Level 2: The Puffin Keeper ELT Graded Reader autorstwa Morpurgo Michael, dostpna w Sklepie EMPIK.COM w cenie 61,00 z. Meanwhile, Minnesota Bird Nerd has some interesting posts up about a possible chickadee/titmouse hybrid (not unlike the hybrid someone guest blogged here last year). I know many of the headlines read that the black penguin was a one in a zillion color morph but they seemed to ignore a smaller black Adelie penguin that Noah Stryker took and posted in his blog in 2008. Stephen Harper, the Conservative leader at the time, apologized for what he considered a “tasteless” and “inappropriate” ad.Last week, the interwebs were stoked over the photos of the " Shaft of King Penguins." This week a mostly white puffin has been photographed. The Conservatives tried to capitalize on the comments in a short-lived campaign ad early in the 2008 election campaign: an Internet ad that showed a puffin pooping on the shoulder of then-Liberal leader Stephane Dion. “This seems to me a symbol for what our party should be.” They hide their excrement.… They flap their wings very hard and they work like hell,” Ignatieff said at the time. Yet, despite some similar features, the puffin and the penguin belong to separate families. John’s that year, suggested aloud that it become the party’s official symbol. In 2007, deputy Liberal leader Michael Ignatieff, who apparently became enamoured of the “noble” puffin during a caucus retreat in St. It’s not the first time the federal Liberals have run afoul of the industrious little creature. It’s believed that the largest colony of puffins is found in Iceland, though they live in rather spread-out areas across many countries including Canada. “It was someone in her office who obviously needs to renew her glasses prescription,” said Marie-Pascale Desrosiers. Penguins are native to sub-Antarctic islands and Antarctica, and puffins are located in the Arctic Circle and many countries directly below that area. “Oops! Let’s try this again,” read the tweet.Ī spokeswoman in McKenna’s office blamed the mixup on a squinty-eyed staffer. Within about half an hour of the post, McKenna â€” or someone in her office — caught the error and sent a new tweet, this time with a short video of actual penguins attached. Penguins, on the other hand, live almost exclusively in the Southern Hemisphere, with the exception of the Galapagos penguin and those held captive in zoos. Puffins, with their red and black beaks and orange feet and legs, are found primarily in the north, notably Newfoundland and Labrador. “You know puffins aren’t penguins, right?” came one response. Classic writers such as Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear are combined with more contemporary talents such as Roger McGough, Margaret Mahy. His unique style of drawing brings a new perspective to every poem. Problem is, those weren’t penguins in the video, but puffins — the squat, distinctive-looking seabirds that make their homes on islands and coastlines in the north Pacific and Atlantic oceans. In this brilliant book he has selected and illustrated his favourite comic verse, making it pure entertainment for nonsense-lovers of all ages. OTTAWA — What, some Canadians are wondering, has the Liberal government’s environment minister been puffin?Ĭatherine McKenna was trying to mark World Penguin Day with a simple tweet accompanied by a cute video of penguins frolicking in the wild.

2ND MASTERLIST

Link to my first masterlist

18+ only

Minors don't interact

You can find my Paul Atreides, Lady Jessica and Gurney fics on my account dunefeather.

Duke Leto Atreides :

A Precious Rest

Something Different (18+)

A Long Day (Part 1) (18+)

A Long Day (Part 2) (18+)

For Us (18+)

Mutual Care (18+)

A Strange Dream (Part 1)

A Strange Dream (Part 2)

For The Best

The Unsaid

Public Privacy (18+)

The Night (18+) (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

A Difficult Union

Four (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

A Decisive Thought (18+)

Sincere Need (18+) (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

A Well Deserved Rest (18+) (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

Times of Crisis (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

New Home (18+) (Leto x Reader x Paul)

Bloodline Legacy (FatherxDaughter)

End Of The Storm (18+) (Leto x Reader x Jessica)

A Corrupted Spy

Beyond The Rules

Desperate Times

A Perfect Morning (18+)

The Guilt

Sisters (Part 1) (18+)

Sisters (Part 2) (18+)

The War Tribute (noncon) (18+)

Loving Couple

The Hidden Bottle (18+)

Tender Morning

The Lonely Child (Part 1)

The Lonely Child (Part2)

Poe Dameron :

Masks (FO!Poe)

After All This Time (Part 1)

In The Beast's Guts (Part 1) (18+)

The Spectre From Home (FO!Poe)

The Leap Of Faith (18+)

The Hidden Nest

The Survivor (FO!Poe)

A Regretted Promise (noncon) (18+)

For Survival (noncon) (18+)

The Commander's Will (noncon) (18+)

Rules Breakers

Partners In Crime (18+)

An Unexpected Guest (FO!Poe)

All Night Long (noncon) (18+) (FO!Poe)

Nathan Bateman :

Self-confidence (18+)

This Side Of You

The Fleshless Gods (18+)

Digital Lovebirds

Fantasies (18+)

Late Night Parenting

Inner Turmoil

Llewyn Davis :

Titmouse

Abel Morales :

Simple Morning (18+)

Blue Jones :

Scarlet Stains (18+)

Flower crown – Xiao fluff

characters: xiao x gn!reader

summary: you and xiao were supposed to meet but you're late and xiao needs to distract his thoughts since he's overthinking

genre & style: fluff!

word count: 1k

notes: i wrote this fic one and a half month ago and only today i felt that i should share it with you

warnings: i think there's none tbh

A pleasant, cool breeze blew Xiao’s hair off of his forehead; grass, slightly moist from the morning dew, tickled his skin, as he was laying down at the top of the Mt. Tianheng, waiting for you to come. You two were supposed to meet there around sunrise, after you come back from the mission in Mondstadt, but didn’t specify the exact hour.

The sun was already up. Warm, yet still too cold to prevent chills from dancing across his skin, rays painted his whole body. Tired, after another night full of nightmares, eyelids trembled anxiously, as Yaksha started to overthink what could have been the reason for you being late. Worse and worse scenarios were appearing in his head with each passing second. What if a pack of Hilichurls attacked you? Or you trained and sprained your ankle? Or fell into a cave full of venomous spiders? Each subsequent thought was getting more and more dumb.

Scowling, he got to his feet, scaring little birds feeding themselves nearby. Xiao was sick of his own mind. He had to distract himself from thinking about you in order to stay calm. Glancing around the surroundings, he was trying to find anything he could do. Hunt? No. There were no animals besides little sparrows and titmouses. Fight? With what? It was a peak of a mountain with no enemies.

Out of frustration, Yaksha tore a tuft of grass and threw it with anger. His watchful eye saw a pretty white mottle in the sea of green. Using his inhuman speed, Xiao managed to catch this lovely little flower gently between the index and middle finger. Gold irises began to analyze the ground right beneath him. A field full of qingxin flowers. He was on a meadow after all. An idea popped into his head as if a small lightbulb appeared over the top of him.

Xiao remembered how you showed him once how to make flower crowns. It was a long time ago and because of that Adeptus wasn’t sure if he was able to bring back memories of the movements of your hands, but he was very fond to try if it could draw him away from making theories about your absence.

Starting slowly, he began to pluck the prettiest flowers, not caring much about the size or length of the stalks. Rough fingers twirled the blossoms literal inch from his eye, piercing at each petal to make sure it was suitable for the composition; it was really important that every leaf was in the perfect shape of a heart too and the man felt really obligated to that. The activity felt very odd, but not in any type of an unpleasant meaning. It was weirdly calming his senses, making him relaxed.

As all the most beautiful blooms were nested on Xiao’s laps, a short sigh left thin lips. That was where the hard part began. How to make flowers stay in the given shape? How to even connect them? Yaksha frowned in concentration and his eyebrows seemed to be even more bushy than every normal day. The fangs were biting down onto the tongue, making his frustrated grunts more audible. How the hell were they able to do this? He kept asking himself, trying not to yeet his work.

After a few unsuccessful attempts and a bunch of curses, the parts started to fall into place. Clumsy hands were doing a lot of unnecessary twists, the whole body was bending with every move and the head was spinning around. Truly unforgettable sight.

Xiao was shifting the thin stalks between his thick fingers, making complicated operations with his thumbs, not allowings tiny plants to escape, yet trying not to tear delicate petals.

“Didn’t know you were a man of arts.” Xiao was so focused, he didn’t even hear your footsteps.

Yaksha raised his head just to see you staring at him, his heart stopping for a moment. “Y/N. You’re late.” Trying not to blush due to being caught in a moment of inattention, he started to fidget with his almost finished work.

“My, oh my, who would have guessed that the Conqueror of Demons himself would be interested in making flower crowns.” You giggled, ignoring his complaint, as you sat yourself right in front of him, your knee brushing his own.

He couldn't even say a word, because your fingers entwined his, forcing him to follow your movements. “What are you doing?” He asked, trying to keep his voice stoic, yet the little crack wasn’t unnoticed by your sharp ear. A smirk appeared on your face.

“Helping you finish. You did it all wrong but now we can’t fix that. We can only go with it and hope it won’t fall apart later.” Wrapping your palms around Xiao’s hands, you began to rub against his skin, making his whole body feel hot. It was a whole new feeling, so weird and strange, yet comforting. Xiao pushed aside a thought of shaking off your embrace and sank completely in fact that you two were so close. Golden eyes were staring at the motions of your fingers forcing his own to do the job right, from time to time gazing at your focused face. You remained silent, chirping of the birds and whistling of the winds being the only sounds around.

“Annnnd… done!” You exclaimed, holding tighter onto his skin, picking the flower crown up. “Isn’t it pretty? We did a great job!” You pressed the wreath onto his head.

“Yeah.” Xiao fixed a lost strand that fell onto his face, watching your happy expression, feeling as his heart was beating faster. “Indeed, we did a great job.”

what's the most fun you've had writing a titmouse story like which story

honestly probably these roger stories? the nice thing about erotica vs romance is that they don't need to be as tightly plotted. writing short form romance is actually really hard because you need to convince the reader these people are in love, and you don't actually have that much time to do it. and i of course wasn't making it any easier for myself by also making my last two romances crime thrillers, lol. those aren't easy to write even without the romantic element

but with roger all i really need is a meet n' fuck set up, it doesn't need to have a full emotional arc wrapped up in a tidy bow

laurels and carnations both took me Months to write. i wrote the first roger book in like three weeks, and i'm almost certainly going to finish my first draft of the second one in the next few days. i have the most fun when i'm not pulling my teeth out trying to make sense of a plot.

your (titmouse!reader) and Eddie’s daughter is named pixel and Janice watches her during the day while y’all are at work (before the band takes off) and Janice catches pixel digging in the trash and she’s like “get out the trash you little skunk!” 😭

Now she goes by skunk to everyone 😭

Phantom Pains (Echo x Jedi!Reader)

@red-winged-hero-hawks

@titmouse-aka-owl

I decided to combine these 2 requests. I think they went well together.

It had always taken Echo quite some time to find sleep. Not because it was hard, but because he was lost in thought thought the night or had his nose buried in a book. When he did finally sleep, it was peaceful and undisturbed and when he woke, thought tired, he was content.

Tonight, his normally slow breaths and gently rising chest was taken over by worrisome gasps and heaving. He shot up in bed almost letting out a shout, a bead of cold sweat on his brow. His ears rung and the room spun around him, the pounding in his chest doing little to help comfort him.

(Y/n) had dozed off in a chair outside of his hospital room, awakening to an irritation in her core. Giving herself little time to come to, her hand slammed the control pad beside the door and it zipped open.

"I'm here." She said softly, but panting from her haste to get into the room. Echo was still hunched over, eyes wide as his own panting surpassed the intensity of hers. He expected to find solace in seeing her, but a familiar face caused his emotions to break any restraint he placed on them.

"(Y-y/n)." He struggled to speak, his jaw locking up in panic. "The ship. It-the ship we had to clear the way. We-"

"Hey,hey,hey." She said softly then sat on the edge of the bed, and ran her hand through his dense, soft hair before bringing it up to his cheek. "Its over with, Echo. We made it. It's ok."

Despite his experience throughout the war, he had never had his actions cause the death of others before. His avidity to board the ship and use its weapons to clear the way drew the droids to him, in turn destroying the ship. The others had to find another way off the prison, causing more troopers to be killed in action. Had he waited, their victory would have come sooner. By a miracle of the force, he survived the explosion, though he believed he should have met the same fate he destined his brothers to.

"I didn't mean to. I tried my hardest. I tried to- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His words were without abandon as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

"Shhh. I know." She pulled his head to her chest and continued to stroke his hair as her other arm wrapped tightly around his torso.

"I can still feel it." He breathed. In the carnage he had lost his left arm. "It hurts."

(Y/n) focused on two things, bringing a comforting sensation to his spirit, and dulling the phantom pain he felt so often. She concentrated, using the force to accomplish both of her desires. She could feel her lover sink into her chest had his breathing slowed to a steady pace.

"I can't do this forever, my love." She broke the comfortable silence. "You will need to learn to cope on your own, but I assure you this pain won't last forever."

"I know." He said, leaning back, looking down to the foot of the bed. "It's so hard. You jedi, all you citizens, you get to learn growing up about anxiety and stress and what it means and what it could feel like and how to deal with it. Us clones are taught nothing. We're taught how to fight, obey, and adapt. We're taught nothing about feelings accept to ignore them and follow orders. I've never read anything in any manual I've ever read about anxiety." He sounded so pitiful in his disquisition. She wanted nothing more than to expunge every bad thought and feeling from him and to keep him safe forever. "Please, (y/n) I need help."

"You'll never-" She paused and put her hand on his chin. "Look at me. You'll never have to deal with this by yourself. I'm always going to be here for you. But I can't always help you. I know you constantly worry about whether or not I'm going to around to get rid of these feelings or ease your pain."

"I understand. I know it won't last forever, but it's so hard to look forward to the future when things are so difficult right now."

"Well, you don't *have* to look to the future. Focus on what you feel right now and making today better. If you make the next day better than the last, the future won't be so far away." He smiled and let out a little laugh as she talked. "What?" She asked.

"I just like the way you put things. You're so young but so wise. What would I do without you?" He caressed her cheek and planted a soft kiss on her lips. "I love you, (y/n)."

"I love you too. Get some sleep. You need it. You'll heal faster." She said pointing to what remained of his bandaged arm. She stood up and made her way towards the door.

"Hopefully I'll get used to the robotic one." He laughed nervously.

"You will. Don't worry about it." She placed her hand on the door frame and turned to him. "Goodnight."

"Night." He paused to think. "Hey (y/n)."

"Yeah?"

"Umm...can you stay? Here? Tonight?" He asked nervously, knowing the answer already. She sighed.

"No, Echo. I've already spent too much time in here as it is. We could get caught. I'm sorry."

"I know. But I always ask anyway." She walked over to his bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"You'll be Alright. I'm right outside."

"I know." He sighed himself.

"Goodnight, love."

Today’s impulse buy / read over my lunchbreak was Retcon #1, by the great Toby Cypress, with writing by Matt Nixon, released in September 2017 from Image.   It’s some kind of supernatural spy/monster guignol show-- some spy’s gotta kill a guy but doesn’t want to, and there are monsters and a girl throws a pokemon but that kinda gets glossed over immediately, and then that’s sort of the whole issue is just that one scene.  The description for the book had this whole elaborate sales pitch but none of that made it into what I read, maybe that only happens in issue 2, who knows, first issues are hard... 

But I’m a long, long, long-time sucker for Cypress and his sort of ... the first time I saw his stuff was in like 2001/2002, when he was walking around some con with an early look of some Nightwing pages he was doing, and a friend of mine called it like an “alien reptile invasion” or something like that (I wish I could remember).  Sort of a “Everything All at Once, Maximum Volume!” approach that I associate with, I don’t know, the Titmouse artists, if you know that crew, or maybe 1988 Gallery Shows, that sort of thing.  Where he’s not trying to ... process just one visual influence; where he’s trying to process like a few at one time, or some sort of super-sensation that he’s getting from the surfaces of entertainment (e.g., a fever dream of pulp covers more than their contents, say).  (I wasn’t into that one though that had like 4-5 other people in it and there was that video game... Blue Estate?  Blue State?  The Bluest State of Blueness?  There was a video game?  Jesus I have no idea too many years... There were like 4-5 guys trying to do that same thing, and that gang quality on the art just made it all seem like cosplay-for-artists, like a costume ball... it’s that line from the Royal Tennanbaums -- “what characters it’s just a bunch of little kids dressed in animal costumes”, except for artist trying to be like Grindhouse Neo-noir Crime Comic Artists... I think that style, maybe you want to be the only guy on the page...).  

Like, he’s doing these rectangles of zipatone in here that are just purely there for like... a layer of discordant information on top of his rendering-- and then his colors are really shouting on top of that, or things can shift suddenly into things that feel like homages but I’m not to sure to what, like ... like that panel of the monster face feels like a foreign movie poster or a colored manga page or some other detritus of pop culture that’s sort of just half-hovering on the edge of my brain, and I have that feeling constantly of “this feels like another thing but I can’t say exactly what, just pop culture, *shrug*”. It’s all very much a Wyld Stallions guitar solo getting wrestled down onto paper, and onto a style where hand-putting-ink-on-paper is already an extremely tangible sensation looking at it... Cypress always just kind of wants to overwhelm the reader, which for me is a lot of fun but boy, that can be a lot.  Or maybe it’s not a style where you can just suck down a bunch of comics like that, in a “I got a Wednesday buy pile” fashion-- most industrial comics art sort of have a different value system.  Maybe, I don’t know, I don’t read like that anymore, with piles or whatever... 

He’s very much the dominant presence in his comics (which appeals a lot to one audience for comics but not others, I guess-- I’ve always found that schism interesting, but that schism I guess is less significant now that other schisms have gotten wider, e.g. kids-oriented vs. adult, foreign vs. American, hentai vs dumb comics that aren’t worth looking at since they don’t have any hentai in them, etc., comics sure fractured).  He’s never had a writer who hasn’t been drowned out by the pleasures of just stopping and gawking at his stuff, at least that i can remember at this second, maybe I’m forgetting somebody.  But I mean, I just don’t usually like the writing in most comics so I’d probably say that about... maybe EVERY GOOD ARTIST, I don’t know.  

And he also tends to seek out like these sort of ... hyper-pulp genre hybrids, mixing espionage and paranormal stuff where I’m probably a little more suspicious of the writing to begin with (there was a Dark Horse book.. White Suits?  White Stripes? White Horse?  who can remember... I don’t think I liked that one on the story side, I remember disliking that one, but I don’t remember for sure).   The results on the reading side can really vary-- Retcon’s better than the other two I’ve mentioned since it seems a little insincere (which I mean in a good way), more playful-- any kind of real pulp that he’s attracted to can have a bad aftertaste that I think you want to be careful about, the source material invariably being kinda a ridiculous presentation of masculinity on some level and... I think recognition of that being kind of a key factor in who’s going to do it well or not.  (Weird no-point digression about the Michael Caine movie Pulp deleted).  

But anyways, yeah, blah blah blah, I think that one’s some fun stuff to look at.  Anyways, it was on sale.

{PDF EBOOK EPUB KINDLE} Your Career in Animation (2nd Edition) How to Survive and Thrive {mobiePub}

{PDF EBOOK EPUB KINDLE} Your Career in Animation (2nd Edition): How to Survive and Thrive {mobi/ePub}

Your Career in Animation (2nd Edition): How to Survive and Thrive

[PDF] Download Your Career in Animation (2nd Edition): How to Survive and Thrive Ebook | READ ONLINE

Author : David B. Levy Publisher : Allworth ISBN : 162153748X Publication Date : 2021-3-2 Language : Pages : 364

To Download or Read this book, click link below:

http://read.ebookcollection.space/?book=162153748X

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Synopsis : {PDF EBOOK EPUB KINDLE} Your Career in Animation (2nd Edition): How to Survive and Thrive {mobi/ePub}

A Newly Revised Edition of the Go-To Guide for Any Animation Artist!“Your Career in Animation is the most comprehensive and valuable book on animation careers that you’ll ever need.” —Bill Plympton, Animator / Producer Whether you want to break into the animation industry or “toon up” to a better career, this comprehensive guide will show you how. A leading animation professional surveys the field and shares the advice of more than one hundred and fifty top talents in the business of making toons— including Brooke Keesling, head of animation talent development at Bento Box, Mike Hollingsworth, supervising director of BoJack Horseman; Andrea Fernandez, art director on The Cuphead Show! PES, Oscar-nominated stop-motion director of Fresh Guacamole; Linda Simensky, head of content for PBS Kids; Minty Lewis, co-creator of The Great North; Ross Bollinger, YouTube sensation with his Pencilmation channel, and executives from Nickelodeon, Disney TVA, Titmouse, Inc., Frederator, PBS Kids, Netflix, 9 Story Media Group, Cartoon Network; and dozens of others. Learn how to:• Get the most out of your animation education • Build a portfolio, reel, and resume • Keep your skills marketable for years to come • Network effectively • Learn from on-the-job criticism • Cope with unemployment • Start your own studio or build an indie brand online • Pitch and sell a show of your own • And more! Also included are invaluable resources such as animation schools, societies, film festivals, events, Web sites, and publications. Allworth Press, an imprint of Skyhorse Publishing, publishes a broad range of books on the visual and performing arts, with emphasis on the business of art. Our titles cover subjects such as graphic design, theater, branding, fine art, photography, interior design, writing, acting, film, how to start careers, business and legal forms, business practices, and more. While we don't aspire to publish a New York Times bestseller or a national bestseller, we are deeply committed to quality books that help creative professionals succeed and thrive. We often publish in areas overlooked by other publishers and welcome the author whose expertise can help our audience of readers.

Between Cintiq and streaming, animation is thriving—ask Titmouse's Chris Prynoski

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Between Cintiq and streaming, animation is thriving—ask Titmouse's Chris Prynoski

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Ars chats with Titmouse Animation’s Chris Prynoski. (Transcript available)

AUSTIN, Texas—Chris Prynoski remembers paper (and, no, that sentiment is not as absurd as it seems). The animation veteran has been in the field for more than two decades now with early stuff so beloved (he directed an episode of Daria and sequences of Beavis and Butthead Do America) that it now comes up in reboot conversation. “We usually get a call every couple years about a Daria reboot, and it never happens,” Prynoski tells Ars offstage at the recent RTX Animation festival. “But this time they made an announcement, so perhaps it’s more serious.”

Since then, however, both animation at large and Prynoski’s role specifically have changed. He now leads perhaps the best studio in the business, Titmouse, which Prynoski also co-founded alongside his wife Shannon back in 2000. The company works on seemingly everything: kids’ shows (Niko and the Sword of Light), cult classics (Metalocalypse), high-profile reboots (TMNT), video games, ads, virtual reality, music videos, movies, and generally just the hottest cartoons at any given moment (Netflix’s Big Mouth anyone? Season two starts in October). No one working with him starts with paper these days.

“The fundamentals of animation haven’t changed a lot. When I started, you were drawing on pieces of paper; people were using computers to scan but colored in ink and paint,” Prynoski says. “Before my time, it was the big ol’ Oxberry cameras. But it pretty quickly got taken over by computers. Now, hardly anybody uses pieces of paper… Anything we do starts on [Wacom] Cintiqs, which are basically big computer screens you can draw on. But the main thing is still that artistic skill you have to develop—whether it’s on a piece of paper or computer screen—which has stayed pretty similar.”

The most beloved Titmouse production currently airing is likely the long-running sci-fi series Venture Bros.

Adult Swim / Titmouse

We could go on (and on) about the greatness of Venture Bros., but it starts with beloved, fully-realized bit players like Billy Quizboy (here L, with Pete White and Dr. Venture).

The Venture Bros‘ Brock Samson likes Zeppelin and the blood of his enemies.

Adult Swim / Titmouse

Remember when the Community gang became an RPG? Guess who gave Dan Harmon an assist?

NBC / Titmouse

Long before Chadwick Boseman took over, Titmouse partnered with Marvel to bring Black Panther to BET in 2011.

Marvel and DC aren’t the only entities trusting Titmouse with beloved franchises—the studio once rebooted GI Joe with Adult Swim’s GI Joe: Resolute in 2009

Hasbro / Titmouse

Even if the core skill of his industry hasn’t changed, Prynoski readily acknowledges tech has made today a great time to be in animation. For starters, unlike the expensive equipment required to turn pen strokes into full productions in the past, the barriers to entry for young, DIY animators have lowered.

“There [are] no shortcuts for becoming a better writer or better artist, but the tools are a lot cheaper,” he says. “It used to cost tens of thousands to get the gear you need to make a cartoon. But now you can probably use your cell phone or a tablet for everything and spend $500, maybe a little more if you want to be fancy.”

At RTX, Prynoski spoke on a panel with Daniel Baxter of How It Should Have Ended, for instance. Putting together that long-running YouTube series wouldn’t have been possible in a time before Photoshop or Corel Painter became accessible to many, and the success of shows like South Park demonstrate how lo-fi can be an animation aesthetic to strive for.

And speaking of YouTube, the other big shift Prynoski has experienced comes from the explosion of outlets interested in animation. Though Titmouse maintains a strong partnership with Cartoon Network / Adult Swim, animation shows today can target virtually every demographic and appear anywhere across cable, network, streaming, or Web platforms (to say nothing of increased demand in ads, video games, or film, too).

Metalocalypse Hero

Around Ars, we maintain a soft spot for the Guitar Hero franchise. And naturally, Titmouse factors in there, too. The company’s work on five releases in the franchise all stems from a shared love of metal.

“The first season of Metalocalypse had come out, and the creative director called us to say, ‘I love Metalocalypse; do you want do some Guitar Hero stuff?’ I think ‘Thunder Horse‘ [a show song] was on GH:II even, and GH:I was out before the show was.”

Titmouse took over the cinematics (or animated bits) from there. Given that Prynoski fondly recalls painting demons and stuff on people’s jean’s jackets in high school, it’s no wonder Guitar Hero: Metallica became such a cult classic.

“I think we’re in production for 12 series right now: six are for Netflix and two are for Amazon. The others might end up on those platforms, too. Who knows?” Prynoski tells Ars. “So I really like this [landscape]. We actually did the first animated show that was on Netflix—this kids’ show called Turbo, that launched in 2013. That was the infancy of the streaming process. Now we do Big Mouth and Netflix is a well-oiled machine. It’s a great experience, and they let you do almost anything you want. It’s crazy.” And if you’ve seen either Turbo or Big Mouth, you can immediately tell: 1) Netflix really has expanded its scope quite a bit within even the last five years, and 2) The streaming service happily embraces content that may be too risqué for traditional TV.

But again, as much as things change, they stay the same. For an old-school creative like Prynoski, he may spend more time in meetings than with a sketch pad nowadays, yet he recognizes that things like strong illustrative vision, storytelling, and creative world-building still largely determine success in this new landscape. The studio’s perhaps-most-beloved currently airing project—Adult Swim’s Venture Bros.—illustrates this.

The show predates YouTube and Netflix, consumer tablets as we know ’em, or even serialized TV storytelling for the most part. Diehard Venture Bros. fans may even exist today that were too young for it when the series debuted in 2003 (they’re probably catching up through streaming and on-demand viewing). Yet despite all the changes around the show, both behind the scenes and within the industry at large, Venture Bros. maintains a truly loyal following and reverence from critics (no spoilers: Season 7 so far has been delightful) because it has always mastered the basics. As Prynoski happily admits: there’s a reason the show has a reputation for not coming back too soon after its prior season ends.

“With many other shows, you can start production once the first script is done—’Hey, let’s start storyboarding or animate it.’ But with [creators Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer], it’s, ‘Oh, we wrote something at the end of the season and we want to plant something at the beginning.’ So they’ll rewrite the show a lot,” Prynoski says.

“A lot of the time is spent getting the scripts right,” he goes on. “The animation process itself isn’t any crazy-longer for a show of that production value. It feels pretty average. But once those scripts are done, they’re funny and tight, and they work. A lot of other shows where I produce or direct, I don’t know how to make this thing work. But the Venture Bros. scripts are locked down.”

Listing image by Adult Swim / Titmouse

Source: https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2018/09/between-cintiq-and-streaming-animation-is-thriving-ask-titmouses-chris-prynoski/

ANNOUNCEMENT: All citizens are invited to attend the triennial Alpha Tournament hosted by Kingdom's one and only martial arts faction, Phylla! While the fights are open only to members, Phylla would like to remind the public that they encouraged to come and spectate. More people in the audience means more witnesses to the crowning of a new Alpha. The first round will begin at 11 A.M. tomorrow in the Junkheap Dojo. If you need directions, climb the nearest tree at sunrise and look for the blindingly bright roof of car-door shingles. Mamba, the six-year reigning Alpha from the Order of Reptiles, says she is confident in her fighting prowess and years of experience. "Nobody moves like a reptile," she says, "Nobody." Mamba's long-standing feud with Mongoose, the Mammal Shogun, is sure to spark several lively encounters tomorrow. "We just let them fight each other and wait for the opportunity to strike," says Titmouse, a newly initiated Swiftbeak from the Order of Birds, "This is the year we rise!" Readers, I know I can't sit in the repurposed mini van benches next to you, but I will be there in spirit rooting for whoever seems the most likely to win their fight.