My lad's description takes four words (fully white, golden eyes) but both the girls always leave me floundering to describe their colours. Maybe you can help?
White, black mackerel tortoiseshell tabby with white, black mackerel tortoiseshell tabby

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My lad's description takes four words (fully white, golden eyes) but both the girls always leave me floundering to describe their colours. Maybe you can help?
White, black mackerel tortoiseshell tabby with white, black mackerel tortoiseshell tabby

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Does Ripley see the birds in the feeder, and if so, how does he respond to them?
At first he used to get really excited about them and say “hi Enyo!” (Enyo is my cockatiel and I think that’s just what Ripley thinks you say when you see a smaller bird).
But he’s had a birdfeeder at the window in front of his cage for like seven years now and I think he’s over it. He occasionally says hi to them but they don’t excite him anymore.
Maul: I am experiencing an unidentifiable but unusual emotion and I am going to make tea about it. This is what I always do with my emotions. Nothing to see here. Carry on.
A more productive instinct than murder!
I suddenly can't leave long asks anymore, but for the DVD commentary meme I'd love to know more about the moment in On Your Mark where Maul is immediately ready to murder Krell. Maul's eyes/mind seems far away and Dogma thinks about how unusual it is for a stranger to be THAT ride or die. What's going on with Maul there? And if you want to share any plans/headcanons/snippets of their future together I'd be thrilled to see them
"on your mark"
I should really write more about them shouldn't I? I just have so many distractions and honestly while the situation in the fic is a little funky, Dogma and Maul are both as stable as I could make them so like. Not weird enough for where my brain's been the last few months.
Lol Maul immediately being ride-or-die with Dogma is kind of a combination of things in the fic, as well as one of my favorite things about Maul, which is that he does kinda become ride-or-die with people, just only after very specific requirements have been fulfilled.
Dogma (and his brothers) is fairly good friends with Savage and Feral and, as mentioned in the fic, they're all very loyal to each other. I have vague thoughts that back when Savage and Feral moved in next to Rex and Cody, they were fleeing Savage's abusive ex (Ventress), and there were probably a few different altercations where Rex and Cody looked at their new neighbors being harassed, looked at each other, then decided that, yeah, that's not gonna fly.
So the Opresses got adopted into the fold and when Maul showed back up in Savage and Feral's lives, they were quick to inform him that they've cobbled together a little clan of their own. Since Maul's welcomed into the new clan with the understanding that the (shit I really didn't give these fuckers a last name, did I) clones are members of their clan, Maul's kinda obligated to be ride-or-die for them all.
In addition to that, Dogma spent a long time talking with Savage and Feral about what it would mean to be a dietary companion to Maul, and they relayed his questions and concerns and overall vibes. And dietary companions in the Nightbrother clans, as the Opresses neglected to inform Dogma, were originally (and frequently still are) also the vampire's mates. So Maul would give Dogma preference over all of the other clones and by the time they meet and Dogma says he has an abusive ex, Maul is like halfway to considering Dogma his mate already and thus someone that he should protect. Especially since Savage got with, was abused by, and then escaped from his abusive ex, all while Maul wasn't present.
Which is one of the many things that got that faraway look in his eye. He is also absolutely calculating how much money he can, should, and will throw at the situation to keep Krell tf away from Dogma, even as just a regular clan member, not a mate or dietary companion.
Ooh, actually, that reminds me that Maul specifies "dietary companion" because "thrall" holds that "mate" connotation. Maul isn't looking for a mate, he's looking for a roommate who will let him snack on them every once in awhile and won't leave him for their joyfriend (like Qi'ra did). He finds someone he'd like to be his thrall in Dogma, obviously, but Maul'a gotta still be a little awkward and also he's trying not to trip over any of Dogma's issues and give him space after a "failed mating."
Also also, Maul thinks Dogma is, like, super-duper hot. And he's not wrong.
TL;DR, Dathomiri/Nightbrother social and cultural convention, playing into Maul's and his brothers' specific issues WRT abusive partners, and a healthy dose of "oh no the pretty boy shouldn't be sad :/"
Please share your wildest theory about those metal pillars that have been appearing and disappearing around the world
I would love it to be aliens.

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Wow, that Eomer artwork is amazing. I'm a fanbinder currently typesetting an Eomer - Rohan themed fanfic to make a nice handbound book of it for on my shelves. Would you permit me to use your Eomer in there? I think it would look fantastic.
Thank you so much!! You absolutely can, as long as it's not for profit ^.^ (forgive my ignorance of fanbinding ahh) if you're ok with it, I'd love to see the book when it's finished! ❤️
A Cold But Happy Little Yod'ika
This was a request that I finally got around to posting. Im so SO so sorry it’s late. Life has been crazy, but I have a bit of free time coming up so I’ve been drawing and making fun art!
Thanks for thinking of me for the request @primarybufferpanel Again, sorry it’s so late. But I hope you like it.
Obi Wan somehow using the Force in bed. Maybe to restrain his partner so he can REALLY get to eating her out?
a\n: OMFG this is some galaxy brain stuff, I fckn lost it when I received this (a while ago, here it is finally!)
“My absence was noted, it seems,” Obi-wan laughs into the kiss.
His ironclad arms keep the two of you steady as you bump into the refresher counter in your suite, oblivious to anything but each other. He’s so relieved to be reunited with you, holding you and feeling your warm touch, able to relax the worried crease of his brow…and this form of celebration isn’t bad either.
The bed appears sooner than expected and Obi-wan falls back against it, tugging you along before flipping you to splay beneath him on the satin sheets. He wastes no time in chasing your parted lips and you welcome the greedy kisses that travel down your neck.
He brings an inquisitive hum from your throat, however, when he starts down your chest. Your nightgown is thin and he kisses at the edge concealing your breasts before pushing it up and dipping his head to the top of your ribs.
“Obi?” you murmur, arching at the touch. His beard deliciously tickles.
“Just showing how much I missed you, dear.”
His hands slide around your back, helping it arch against his mouth as he meanders down. Sinking to his knees at the end of the bed, he peels apart your legs and settles his weight there. You’re bare, having forgone underwear when hearing of his return, and you’re already squirming from the anticipation and gentle traces of his skin.
He chuckles. “Eager, aren’t we?”
A line of kisses like fire work down your inner thigh and you catch your lip between your teeth, head lolling as you try and bear the teasing. He noses your folds and you buck when his tongue starts delving around, driving him straight to the bundle of nerves — it’s hot and wet and you keen, grabbing his hair as a laugh rumbles from his throat, adding to the sensation.
A poignant squeeze to your hip draws your gaze down to him and his eyes strike you like lightning. But as soon as his lips find your clit again your lids flutter shut and you writhe, nearly pushing his jaw away.
“...well, you’re certainly being difficult.”
He tries to set to work again but you grasp his tunic as an anchor, effectively disrupting the pace.
All at once your hands are pushed up around your head and held there with an invisible strength; your hips are pressed still as well. You glance down, brow furrowed, to find Obi-wan with a flat hovering hand and a devilish grin that sends a pang straight to your core.
“Is that alright?” Sincerity laces his voice. He gives you a test of the predicament by tracing a free fingers down your thigh and across your hip, making you jump.
Your reply, breathless but firm, “Yes.”
His gaze narrows predatorily and he dips to press a searing kiss to the bend in your thigh. “Good. Can’t have you interfering too much.”
Your every nerve sings when his tongue reaches where you need it most, sinfully sweet, and you’re not able to escape it. The Force is strong and warm as it holds you down and even though it feels good you struggle anyway, giving Obi-wan the satisfaction of your tortured gasp.
He lifts his mouth away, brushing his beard against your thigh, but you’re given no respite before he brings a thumb through your slick to circle your clit. You still can’t move.
You moans jump an octave. He grins a Cheshire grin.
“You’re quite liking this, aren’t you?”
You whine at his taunt and the tension tugging at your core and it eggs him on. He tucks your leg over his shoulder and dives back in with his mouth, suckling to bring your breathy moans to a full groan — it’s unbearable and you love every second.
He can feel you winding higher and tighter and he keeps you just teetering on the edge with his tongue, beard brushing delightfully on the delicate skin. Curses tumble out of your mouth, intermixed with cries of please, Obi, I’m so -- ah! I can’t...
“Can’t...what?”
It’s cruel, he knows. But Maker you’re pretty like this, all twisted in a frenzy at his fingertips. He can’t help wanting to draw it out. But finally, he relents.
He grasps your hips closer and finds a rhythm with his tongue, twisting you further and further into oblivion as the heat builds. The tension snaps in a white-hot blaze and Obi-wan releases the Force, letting the climax flow through your figure freely and he murmurs encouragement all the while.
You’re weak with pleasure when it’s all over. But Obi-wan sees the glint in your eye and carefully makes his way next to you on the bedding.
You are understandably handsy when given the chance again.