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thepolicequeen · 2 years

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Could It Really Be Him?

Iacon was known as the city that never slept. Day darkened into night and all that changed was who was sitting at the desk or running the cash register. While doing his final round around the station Detective Tyrest spots his young student still at work long after the Metroplexian should have been home.

Ultra Magnus, sleep deprived, desperate, and on the brink of madness, has a break in the case.

The precinct was quiet, as most night shifts were. When Tyrest, the head detective at the precinct, walked by other officers or detectives he nodded politely in greeting before moving on.

As he rounded the corridor to the meeting rooms, which should have been empty, he sighed when he saw the one at the end of the hallway occupied. The blinds were drawn so Tyrest couldn’t see into the room but he knew someone was in there based on the fact he could see the lights turned on through the blinds.

As the detective approached the end of the hallway Tyrest crossed his arms and looked down at the officer sitting directly in front of the door. “ Good evening Ironhide. May I inquire as to why you are sitting in front of this door so late at night.”

The officer looked up from the datapad he was holding, surprised at the detective’s arrival. “Well, uh, sir, tha’s quite simple. Ah wanted to uh, work away from everyone else?”

Tyrest looked very unimpressed. “Magnus is in there isn’t he.”

“Yes sir.” At least Ironhide had the sense to look apologetic. “‘E said ‘e just needed a few more hours of uninterrupted time. Ah know it’s unhealthy how much ‘e stays up workin on the case but if ‘e don’ do it no one will. Everyone else ‘as given up.”

Tyrest sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was true that ever since these murders started taking place his student was the only one who was finding the links between each one. Every break happened because of him. Now though, there hasn’t been a new victim in months and no new leads or evidence were being found. Tyrest was afraid his student was going mad.

“Please sir, just give Magnus thirty minutes.” Ironhide looked almost guilty as he said his next words. “Then ah’ll help ya get ‘im home.”

The detective looked down at the pleading officer. He knew in his spark that tonight would be the last night this case would be worked on. He couldn’t let Magnus live like this anymore. “Thirty minutes, then we take him home.”

— — — —

He’s been in here all day.

Hours upon hours of scoring over all the evidence gathered over ten years. Eighteen victims, seventeen crime scenes, one witness. He knew time was running out.

No one else was working with him, in fact throughout the day many of his coworkers who kept him company started talking about new cases, trying to convince him to move on without directly saying so. It was only a matter of minutes before his mentor took him off the case.

Magnus needed to find out who it was tonight.

The junior detective stared at the pictures in front of him, only a handful but all of them were likely suspects. Based on how the bodies were mutilated the killer had to have intimate knowledge of anatomy as well as combat knowledge since some of the victims were veterans and didn’t go down without a fight.

“Hurt like tha Pit I’ll tell ya that.”

Magnus turned to face a mech who’s torso was mutilated beyond imagination.

“Steelhead, victim number seven. Found in his house which was so bloody we had to send in a drone to take pictures before we could investigate the scene.”

“The bastard even tore off mah wings!” The large flightframe laughed before Magnus blinked, clearing his head. When he looked again the phantom was gone. In its stead he escaped into his mind remembering a few years ago after he first saw the phantoms.

“And you’re sure they looked real?”

“As real as you and me. It was like if you put their spark back into their corpse but didn’t fix the frame.”

The two mechs shivered and quickly took a shot of whatever the bartender poured them.

“You should probably see someone about that Magnus. Voices can be dangerous, phantoms are probably worse.” The junior detective’s drinking partner stared into his glass as if in a daze.

“Jack? You alright?” The smaller mech jumped in shock. “Oh yeah, just dandy. Uh I have to go, something I just remembered I had to do. I’ll see ya later Mags.”

A few hours later he got the call that another body was found, victim nine. He had to wait till morning before he could get to the crime scene. Magnus swore to never drink during a case ever again. Mostly because victim nine was burned post-mortem with engex but also because his hangover was not pretty.

A deca-cycle later victims ten and eleven happened within a few hours of each other. A scary time, the city went on immediate lockdown and anyone not home was arrested. No one ended up being suspects of interest.

The next victims brought about the biggest break the case had ever seen.

Magnus walked through the precinct quickly. It was late when he got the phone call but Magnus was quick to awake when he heard why he had to come in.

They had a witness.

The Killer was short but quick, he managed to kill two seekers of the air force. The information that the survivor gave them was invaluable since it lowered their search down to a small percentage of Cybertronians.

“After he killed my trine something strange happened. It was like a switch was flipped, he was completely different.” The black and purple seeker looked into the cup he was holding, his servos still shaking. “He was a monster that held no remorse, he tore them apart but after he wrote that message on the wall he started shaking like a leaf.”

Magnus hummed, thinking. Skywarp continued. “Then he said ‘oh Primus not again, he did it again. I thought I had him under control’ then he ran away.”

The junior detective was shocked, as were the other officers and detective’s around them. It was clear as day, the Killer of the Damned was a split personality.

“We’re just glad he snapped out of it before he went searching for Warp.” Magnus saw the bleeding and torn apart seekers out of the corner of his optics. “Yeah, it would’ve been tragic if he killed Skywarp, him being sparked and all that. Sad he miscarried though. Would’ve loved to have little us’s running around.”

Magnus covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply. He was getting nowhere. He felt like crying.

“Come on little brother, you can’t give up now.”

His head shot up. On the other side of the table was his brother Dominus Ambus. Victim fifteen.

“Dom, I have nothing. I’ve looked at everything in a hundred different ways and I don’t have a shred of an idea of who it could be.” His brother chuckled. “You know exactly who it is, you just don’t want to believe it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was known since the beginning that you were dealing with a madman. Then Nosedive and Skydancer were killed and their third Skywarp let you know about the split personality. Stop looking for the Killer of the Damned and start looking for the personality he’s attached to.” Magnus stood up to walk to the other side of the room where his main evidence board was. “But what if I’m wrong.”

“You know who it is Magnus, if you believe then you will never be wrong.”

The junior detective looked hard at the wall where he pinned up papers of evidence and theories. His mind churned, not thinking of who the Killer is but who he could be hiding behind.

The phantom of his brother faded away smiling sadly.

Someone small, physically and mentally. They had to be weak if they couldn’t control him. Someone who was a soldier who knew anatomy. A doctor, no, scientist because of victims nine and four. They had knowledge of chemicals. Due to their reaction to the Killers' work they feel bad, they’re guilty. They would return to the scene of the crime.

No. It couldn’t be.

Victim five, Nylon.

“This is gruesome.” A small mech, no kibble with dirty blond hair. Magnus turned to the mech who was behind the police tape.

“Indeed. The work of this murderer often is. Not many can stomach looking.” The small mech laughed. “I’ve seen my fair share of gruesome things, just can’t believe it would be happening here.”

“Magnus we got something interesting over here!”

“Excuse me, I must be going. Just stay behind the tape.”

It couldn’t.

Victim eight, Hammer.

The mech again. “Hello Detective Magnus.”

“Greetings Jackbox. Why do you keep showing up to these crime scenes?”

“To see if you catch him.”

“Well Jack, not many people know this but the most common rule among criminals is never return to the scene of the crime.”

“This killer could be mad enough. Hey, do you want to go get drinks later?”

“Sure, I’ll call you when I’m off shift.”

Please no. Magnus grasped his head in his hands.

Victim fifteen. Dominus Ambus

“Jack, I don't think I can keep going. Dominus was all I had left.” His head was down against the table, multiple glasses empty of their high grade in front of him. It was a night he could never remember.

“Don’t say that Mags. You’re my only hope, you’re the only one who can catch him.” Jackbox pulled him up and grabbed his collar in his shaking hands. “You’re the only one who can do it.”

“I can’t! The Killer is like a ghost, he hides too well. I can’t, I can’t go on.” His optics were dim. Jackbox grabbed his face and made Magnus look at him. “Catch me Magnus. You’re the only one that can.”

“Magnus? Is something wrong?”

The junior detective turned around and looked at his mentor with teary optics. Jackbox, it was him, but he was so sweet and caring. He listened to Magnus like no one else would. He was the first friend he made on his own. It was all for nothing, Jackbox only got close because he was desperate. Jackbox hated what his other personality was doing and was desperate for it to end.

Magnus didn’t want his friend to go away but he knew what he had to do.

“I know who it is. I figured it out.” Tyrest hugged his student. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

“It’s Jackbox.” He clutched at his mentor as tears began to fall down his face. “My only friend is the Killer of the Damned, I don’t want him to be treated horribly, it’s not his fault.”

Tyrest let his student cry into his shoulder as he looked around the room. Stacks of boxes full of evidence were piled up around the room, the table was completely covered by papers and all the walls and boards were full of sticky notes and pinned up papers. He knew Magnus was right.

“Oh Magnus. When will Primus give your spark a break from hurt.”

#transformers #murder mystery au #ultra magnus #prequel story #my art

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parkeraul · 5 years

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Concept cooking with Shawn

category is: blurb night

head chef

“Watcha doin’?” He asks, sniffing repetadly while stepping into the kitchen and coming behind her to hug her middle, rubbing the sides with his thumbs. “Dinner,” She answers, finishing the word with a soft whimper when she feels his face coming down to get hidden on the crook of her neck. Shrugging lightly, she leans in against him the best she can without letting go of the pans. “Makin’ your favourite. Wanna taste?” “M-hm,” Shawn mumbles, planting a quick kiss on the curve of her shoulder to tilt his head up and open his mouth. She grabs a spoon from the drawer to fill it with the content and blows some cold air on the hot sauce on the big spoon before turning her body a little to place it on his mouth, her palm flattened under the spoon to catch any drop that might fall. He takes it all in a single mouthful and also takes his time tasting, clicking his tongue sharply like he’s a professional chef ready to give her a note or whatever. “‘S very very good, hun. How do you do it?”

She turns back to the cooktop, leaving the spoon for him to hold so she can mix the sauce to the pasta boiling besides the pan she’s using to bury her spatula inside, twisting it to separate the ground beef in tiny pieces.

“C’mere, I’ll explain to you and you can help me with this while I make some dessert for us,” Inviting him, she steps aside for him to join her. He pushes his sleeves up to step towards the sink where he leaves the spoon and washes his hands before going back to where she’s standing. “We don’t have sauce enough for the two of us, so grab another tomato on the fridge, please,” She asks and he immediately goes to the fridge, choosing the reddest one he finds and placing it on the counter top, already grimacing. “Now, you’ll cut it in two, then in four and then every piece in half, right?” “Yes…” He says uncertainly, seeing her getting the knife through his peripheral vision while he tries to remember the sequence she just said. “Can’t we use something else?” “Shawn,” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head in denial. “Did you know that this is how they do bolognese sauce or…?” “Of course I know, Monica Geller,” He jokes, rolling his eyes too while he gets the knife she’s handling to him. “But I don’t wanna add too much of this, it’ll be so acid…” “Then we just have to put a little bit of sugar, it’ll break the acid,” She explains, lowering the heat of the pan to help him start. “Stop being a cry-baby! How can someone hate tomatoes but like bolognese sauce?” “How can someone hate strawberries and like strawberry juice?” Shawn throws back, making her lips part and hands fly to her waist, totally outraged. He looks at her, holding back a laugh seeing her standing like a mad little girl. “Gotcha!” “The seeds get stuck in your teeth and it tastes bad, don’t come for me!” She justifies and he melts inside; the sight of her frowning and huffing is too much for his poor lovesick heart. He pouts at her direction, waiting for a peck but ending up kissing the air because she storms to stand in her previous position, avoiding looking him in the eyes and biting on her lip not to giggle. “Cut your tomato, Gordon Ramsay.” Shawn smirks, looking at her cute face getting flushed and that’s the image he wants to see in every fuckin’ day of his life, it’s too priceless. “Like this or like this?” He says, positioning the knife on top of the tomato and moving it on both horizontal and vertical ways. “It doesn’t matter, babe,” She’d regret the pet name if she was really upset instead of building up a whole scene seconds ago. Now, she wants to laugh at his innocence because it’s too sweet. “Since you cut it in half and not in two very different pieces, it’s alright.” He works cautiously, cutting the ingredient slowly to get it sliced in exact halfs. She’s not looking at him — too busy picking up things to dessert on the cabinets and fridge — but she’s sure he might be pretending he’s performing a surgery by the way he watches Grey’s Anatomy very often. Placing the things she’ll need on the island, she can now see him bending his knees and inching closer to the tomato like he’d murder it anytime if he ever takes his eyes away from it for a split second.

There’s a moment of silence in the kitchen. Shawn’s finishing his job and she’s reading the recipe book to make sure she’s got everything to start cooking. So, the sound of the knife coming down and hitting the cutting board is loud enough to fill up the room. Getting quicker to cut the final round of halfs, he bobs his head to a song in his head while he mumbles the lyrics and organises the pieces he’s getting.

“To-may-to or to-mah-to?” He snaps her out of her book, still dancing weakly and opening the sauce pan. She chuckles, heading to where he’s standing to check if he cut only the tomatoes and nothing else — she knows the clumsy boy she’s dating. “Tomayto,” She afirms, arranging the slices together with the knife she’s got from his hand while he dries them on a cloth. “Don’t run away, Mendes, you’re not done yet.” “But doesn’t it sound prettier in british?” He questions, returning to the counter. “Like sayin’ Birmingham,” She listens to him rambling, pointing to the pan so he can wipe off the tomato from the cutting board to the boiling sauce. “Buh-ming-ham,” Shawn says, trying to sound natural. “Birrrrmingham, Buhhhmingham,” She grabs the spatula once again and starts incorporating the fresh pieces into the already hot ones. “Here, babe, let me do it.” He hits her side with his, catching the object from her hand to do it himself. Shawn looks closer, making a face to the tomatoes swimming on the surface. “What’s wrong?” She asks, tiptoeting to get sugar and some other things to season the food again. “They’re too big,” He whimpers, complaining and blaming himself for not cutting it in smaller pieces. “Get me the mixer.” “You don’t need a mixer, Shawn,” She tucks her hair behind her ear to see better and sets her hand above his to direct his movements. “Just smash them, they’ll disappear eventually.” It’s so hard for her to avoid laughing that she can’t hold back anymore when she watches him picking specific big parts to crush with the spatula, face still distoring in disgust. Shawn eyes her, dipping his index finger slightly into the warm sauce and then colouring the tip of her nose with the red content to suck his digit clean soon after. He widens his eyebrows like he’s saying “who’s laughing now?” and she’s powerless, unable to go mad. “Come clean this, Buhmingham.” She demands and he doesn’t need to think twice, tilting towards her to kiss and lick the spot he got dirty to peck her lips two times before facing the pan again. “It’s not good anymore,” He tsks, his tongue poking out in repugnance. “How do we make it tasty again?” “Two pinches of sugar,” She answers already adding them, switching the little pots of flavours on her hands to keep it going. “Four of salt and two tiny ones of pepper. Now mix it.” Shawn draws perfect circles around the pan — at least he thinks they’re perfect — and he casually squeezes the remaining larger slices of tomato until they melt away. He lifts the spatula to put some drops of sauce on his palm so he can taste it again. “Mmm,” He mumbles, closing his eyes. “Hun, it’s fuckin’ great,” Another small portion fills his hand, going straight to his mouth. “Can we put that ogherano thing too?” “Put what?” “Ogherano…” “Oregano?” She smiles devilishly, making his cheeks go pink as the colour highlights his sweet little scar. His hazel eyes rolls again and a single curl falls in front of his forehead. Masking a ‘you know what I mean’, he finishes:“Tomayto, tomahto…”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #the blurb saga**#ficsofmine #mine

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the-art-of-slushies · 5 years

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Things I learned about art (short)

Refrences are important, maybe you don't need one if you have lots of imagination.

(but I don't XD)

Printerest should do , or plain Google.

Watching other artist on tumblr and other platforms help too.

it's better to focus on understanding the anatomy of what you're drawing first before you make your art style. Because if you understand basic anatomy and you use it in the art style you create it will be easier to understand.

(Still working on this atm )

Draw daily , I do this and yes sometimes I skip a day but make up to it by drawing a lot in the other days. It doesn't need to be much it can be a thing you see or like , or basic practice.

I personally get inspired to draw a lot by youtube and other artists , like my friends.

I created this for mah friendo

@minieevee205 cause you asked how I do mah art XD

This might not help you a lot , but hey.

#art tips #for a friend lmao

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worldguardian · 5 years

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while we’re waiting for rsw to get back to me, here is Today’s Headcanon Nonsense: Amendment To Previous Headcanons Edition

i was thinking about that rough list of “organs/anatomy that mahjarrat probably do and do not have” and how I figured that they have some kind of brain analogue, under the logic that cutting a mahjarrat’s head off will kill them

well today I was like you know what past self, Super Out-There Alien Anatomy is cool, mahjarrat/children of mah officially do not have a brain analogue now

having their head cut off kills them because it removes their gem from their body.

also, given that mahjarrat have like... it’s almost an exoskeleton, really, with how their “muscle” and skin work, and that we know for canon that they don’t have blood and presumably many other internal fluids, brains would be ridiculously vulnerable in their bodies. they wouldn’t be cushioned at all and frankly a weakpoint as huge as a brain is not something that would survive life on freneskae anyway.

i just really love the fact that these guys are Literal Rock People Aliens created by the fevered dreams of an elder god so their biology really can just Be Like That

#it's so good i love funky alien anatomy #LESS HUMANOID ANATOMY IN MY FANTASY PLEASE AND THANK #runescape #headcanon

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yevonscribbles · 6 years

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Dignity

In which Gideon and Nick get it in a compromising position…

*****

Hey everybody I hope you have been enjoying the story of Nick and Gideon with the budding romance of Judy and Edward cause I have been enjoying writing it. I have plenty of ideas coming up continuing the story loosely. This weekend I am going to do some house cleaning and get hyper links going to make reading the stories flow a bit better (especially now that I am cluttering Tumblr with my random fan art...) so thank you for all the feedback, notes, and messages they mean a lot!

Fair warning this one is a little mature for suggestive content so shield your eyes!

*****

Everything was going well for Gideon Grey. The pudgy baker had just successfully opened his first “Gideon Grey’s Real Good Baked Stuff” in the Meadowlands, his fiance was due home any minute for a night alone, and he was working with his investors to plan out the future of his rapidly growing business. The red fox had been working endless hours with the goal of creating a franchise and having a test kitchen in Zootopia. That way he could finally find a house and move in with a certain Nick Wilde. With a smirk, Gideon poured some wine to go with the salad he had made for dinner. A jingle of keys alerted the baker that his partner was home.

“Welcome home mah Doughnut!” Gideon called from the kitchen. He heard a heavy coat hit the couch but no response from the fox officer. Suddenly, a warm breath tickled the back of his neck as a pair of paws wrapped around his waist. A whisper made his fur stand on end.

“Why hello sexy…” Nick said dripping with desire.

“Hhh...Hi yerself…” Gideon shivered. No matter how many times the fox officer whispered into the larger foxes ears Gid always felt weak to his knees. Expert paws slowly removed the button on the baker’s bib overalls. He felt the clothing slack around his waist. With a purr, Nick began to unbutton the plaid shirt his partner wore. With a jerk, the larger foxes shirt feel to the kitchen floor. Nick nuzzled the larger mammal and commanded. “Turn around.”

The baker turned around to meet the slender fox and saw the desire in Nick’s green eyes. Gideon kissed his fiance as he began to unbutton the crisp police uniform while his own desire began to grow. Warm paws reached below the slacked coveralls and grabbed below the baker’s tail. A noise escaped the pudgy mammal’s maul, breaking the kiss. The officer licked his lips and with a final pull the coveralls fell to the floor. Gideon felt his face turn red feeling so exposed.

“You are so sexy my Pumpkin…” Nick said before falling to his knees and running his paws through the cream fur on display before him. The officer had been waiting for this moment for the last week.

“Ah...ah guess we are putting dinner on hold?” Gideon asked with a smile, his paws moving to his partner’s head. Before Nick could respond, the door to the apartment cracked opened. Both foxes turned to the noise as their noses began to twitch trying to figure out what was happening. “Nick...did you lock da door?” The larger fox whispered.

“Yeeeesssss…” Nick hissed. A pair of voices could be heard and the door as the foxes could finally make out the mammal who had opened the door.

“... Don’t worry Edward my foxes arn’t home…” Judy slurred. Both foxes cursed to themselves.

“...Oh? Well let’s get you some water.” The raccoon said. Gideon gave Nick a confused look.

“That's Judy’s boyfriend…” The slender fox said. Nick began to curse every letting Judy have a key to his apartment. Suddenly the pair heard a heavy slump onto the couch and the muffled sound of two mammals making out. A small fit of giggling followed before more sloppy kisses could be heard. Nick looked up to his boyfriend. “Now what do we do?”

Meeting his partner’s gaze the baker said. “WE put on our clothes and try to get to our bedroom-”

“Um...Hi?”

Both foxes froze and looked to the new voice with their ears glued to their skulls. A shirtless raccoon stood in the doorway with his jeans unbutton and offered a weak wave. His face a bright crimson, “Judy...were not alone…” The grey bunny officer stumbled into the room obviously disheveled with her shirt unbuttoned and ears dropped.

“Sweet cheese and crackers...Nick you weren't lying about how big Gid is!” The rabbit slurred with a grin. Edward began to laugh and Gideon felt his face burn. Nick gave his partner a mischievous grin.

“Yah told her about mah DICK!?” The baker said with disbelief. Judy joined her boyfriend in laughing at the baker expense. Nick tried to stifle his own laughter.

“Ok. Ok. Give us 5 minutes to get dressed and we will meet you in the living room.” The slender fox said.

After a few minutes, Judy was sitting on her boyfriends lap while he sat across the couch where Gideon and Nick sat next to each other where the slender fox had his paw around his partner. An uncomfortable silence had filled the air. Not sure what the hell to do, the newest mammal spoke up.

“So ummm… Hi again Nick and hello other fox. You must be Gideon!” Edward said with a scratch of his head and a nervous smile. The baker fox gave a wave before the raccoon continued. “I’m Edward and as you might have guessed I am dating Judy who may have had too much to drink…” With a smile the rabbit lifted up her paw.

“Guilty! But to be fair, we thought you two had dinner plans and wouldn’t be home till much later. So we had a good time at a bar close by and I wanted to have sex-”

“Alright, no more talking from the drunk bunny!” Edward laughed, pulling Judy’s raised paw down and holding it. The normally composed rabbit officer began to giggle. With a sigh, the raccoon gave her a nuzzle.

“Ah don’t mind if Judy wants to come over and use our apartment for...ahem…’recreational uses,’ but ah little warning would have been nice!” Gideon said with a huff.

“I’m still horny…” Judy protested causing the rest of the room to erupt in laughter.

“I have never seen her so drunk!” Nick said slapping his knee. “What did you give her!?”

With a sigh, the raccoon gave a smile. “Dirty Shirley Temples…Apparently vodka is her weakness. My plan was to get her here, maybe make out a little until she falls asleep, and then take care of her in the morning when she gets the hangover of her life.” The both foxes found themselves giving an involuntary ‘awww.’ Judy had began to nuzzle her boyfriend’s neck.

“I wanted to hear you make that noise again…” The rabbit slurred. “That one when I put my finger-”

“Whoa, hey there Judy, some of us have already shared a lot about our private anatomy today and I don’t feel like being on that list!” Edward interrupted. “Where can I put our favorite bunny so she can rest?” Gideon got up from the couch and motioned for the raccoon to follow him. Down the hall, the baker pointed to the spare bedroom that Judy had claimed shortly after Nick moved in. Walking past the fox, the sobering rabbit officer began to giggle.

“I’m sorry we ruined your special time Gid…” Judy said.

“And?” The baker said with a huff.

“...And I am sorry I knew how big your penis was… Blame Nick!” The rabbit protested causing her boyfriend to let out a laugh.

“Don’t be too hard on the poor fox Gideon.” Edward added with a smile. “You know Judy is going to turn beet red when she hears what she said while drunk right?”

“Ohhhh yeah, ah am looking forward to it!” Gideon said with a wicked smile. “Now you take care of her, she mean a lot to us.”

“I intend on it, hopefully next time we hang out we can have less awkward nudity.” The raccoon added with a slight blush. “I might not be gay but damn dude!”

Gideon began to blush. “Sush! Get to bed both of ya!” With a final wave, the baker fox made his way to the living room only to find his boyfriend naked on the couch with a cocky smile. Gideon felt his jaw hang open.

“Like what you see?” Nick teased while patting the seat next to him. “I figured we could start again from where we were interrupted…”

“But...ah...They will hear us…: Gideon protested before his lost all rational thinking. With a sigh, Nick got up from the couch and wrapped his paws around his fiance’s waist pulling the baker fox in for a kiss. Pulling away, the officer licked his lips and gave Gideon a satisfied smile. “Well I don’t hear you protesting now…”

With his own smirk, Gideon licked the tip of his partner’s nose. “Yer horrible, ya know that you sly fox…” The larger fox lifted Nick and laid him on the couch. Rubbing his paws over the toned muscles of the officer. “Ah guess we can play Mr. Wilde. Besides, it’s yer house…”

“I like the way you think Mr. Grey… or should I say Mr. Grey-Wilde?” The lean fox teased.

“Ah could get used to that.” Gideon smiled. “Ah love you.”

“Really...Show me.” Nick purred, his emerald eyes gleaming with need. With a chuckle the larger fox proceeded to show the officer just how much he loved his fiance.

*****

The next morning...

Judy resolved never to drink again. The harsh morning sun hurt her eyes while she recovered in bed. A soft click of the door caused the rabbit to perk up. Edward came into the room holding two cups of coffee and a warm smile.

“Good morning Sunshine.” The raccoon whispered, not wanting to agitate the rabbit further. “How you feeling?”

“Like I was in an explosion...again…” Judy said taking a cup from the raccoon. “How did we make it to Nick’s apartment?”

“Well you wanted to have some naked time…” Edward admitted with a blush. “But I knew you were a little drunk, so I figured I would let you have sloppy make out times then get you to bed. We made it here and you proceeded to remove my shirt and start taking off my pants before I insisted I get you some water. When I went into the kitchen-”

“Oh sweet cheese and crackers please…” The rabbit slapped her paw to her forehead.

“Your foxes had a similar evening planned and were naked in the kitchen. I waved to them and was about to excuse myself when you stumbled into the kitchen and proceeded to compliment Gideon on the size of his penis.” The raccoon said with a smile. He was enjoying watching Judy’s reaction to what Drunk Judy had done. It might be his new favorite game.

“Oh please end me!” Judy pleaded.

“Not on your life, I have grown quite fond of you Judy Hopps. Though you may want to avoid the couch for awhile. After we went to sleep, the foxes seemed to have had a good night.” The raccoon smirked while the rabbit gave him a strained confused look.

In the other room, two foxes snored blissfully into the morning unaware of the smell of sex and stains over their fur and couch. Nick was happily laying face first in the chest of his partner whose mouth hung open with a grin. A blanket had been thrown over them by Edward when he had made coffee. At least the foxes could keep some of their dignity...

#zootopia #mature #nick wilde #gideon grey #nick x gideon #gay foxes #judy hopps #oc #origional character #fanfic #fan fiction

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geekygirlwithglasses · 6 years

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Do you have any progress shots of your art? Or general tips? :o?

Oh man…time to reach into the folder of cringe.

I keep all my really old drawings in a folder tucked waaaaaay in the back of my art folder, so let’s dig out some for progress comparison. It’ll be fun!

I think this might be the oldest art I have a picture of on my computer…I’m thinking 2008? It was 6th grade, that’s what I know for sure.

In 6th grade (and through high school honestly) I was super focused on developing my own “style”. I tried a bunch of weird things, most of which went horribly wrong (see above). I didn’t help that I had a friend at the time who was amazing with the manga/anime style of art. I always tried to copy her with…terrifying results. I shouldn’t be so hard on my past self though, it’s always fun to look back and see where you came from. If I could show 6th grade Hal what she’d be doing almost a decade later I’m sure she’d be hyped beyond measure.

This one actually holds up rather well. I’d guess it’s from the 2012-2013 range? I was trying to imagine what Captain America would be like if he hadn’t become the super soldier. Middle school me had a thing for scrawny nerds (which is a preference that would stay constant even until now).

Now for my first digital piece (yikes!)

See, 2014 Hal didn’t know that you had to install drivers to make your tablet work properly. I think I did this in Photoshop, but without drivers installed my lines were wonky and the pressure sensitivity was nonexistent. After this experience I was convinced that digital art was not for me and went back to good ol’ traditional. I pretty much stuck with that until now.

This is from high school, the height of my anime phase and the beginning of my love for alcohol markers. As you can tell, I was still convinced that the anime/manga drawing style was ~THE SHIT~

I think this dates around late high school/early college. I’ve never been very consistent in my choice of media. I usually goes through phases of marker, prismacolor, watercolor pencil, etc. I’ve always been super good at obsessing over one thing, getting sick of it, and then changing gears.

Now for recent stuff!

I absolutely love this piece. It started out as little 2-3 inch doodle I made in class and the colored with alcohol marker later (Captain Jack Aubrey from Master and Commander)

I have this one hanging on the wall above my desk (its me an mah boi). I’ve been trying to develop a more dynamic, easy to draw cartoon style for quick doodles and fun stuff. The pose is from a draw-the-squad.

And that brings us up to now!

So yeah, that’s pretty much a Sparknotes version of my own art history. As for tips, the first thing that comes to mind is this:

STUDY ANATOMY!Younger me was so obsessed with finding a style that she didn’t take the time to learn the basics, which resulted in some weird abominations. Once you have your foundation you can tweak things stylistically and it will work much better. There are tons of resources online for how bodies work and such. Study a few, watch a video, and practice! One of my favorite ways to study how limbs and torsos work is to stand in front of my mirror and observe. I’ll make the pose I want to draw and then move around to see how joints look in different positions/angles and generally how everything connects and cooperates.

I had an art teacher tell me once that not every piece is going to be a masterpiece and that’s okay. That was sort of a revelation for me. I would always get so caught up in what I wanted the end result to look like. I’d end up holding myself back because I didn’t want to experiment and risk messing things up. You have to make mistakes to make progress.

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ravagemyheart · 7 years

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Tit for Tat

Request for user @lautrec-var-emreis. Hope this satisfies!

TW: Language, and good ol’ fashioned smut.

It was a quiet evening, for a ravager ship anyway. Another planet, another seedy port providing sketchy entertainment and booze. Normally I head out with the guys and partake in the senseless debauchery, but not tonight.

No, a quiet ship and a few newly downloaded books where all too tempting a recipe to pass up.

After a long shower with all the hot water I could desire, I dimmed the lighting on the bridge and cozied up in the captain’s chair.

“If Yondu doesn’t like it he shouldn’t hog the comfortable chair for himself.”

With any luck, most of the crew would spend the night in a brothel or on the floor of some club and leave me with an evening’s worth of peace. I settle in quickly and soon enough lose myself in the narrative laid out before me.

Suddenly the familiar grinding of a heavy metal door cuts through the serenity of my quiet night in. Before I can seriously ponder just who was behind me they dispel any confusion quickly.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

I move to stand up, however not quickly enough for my captain’s liking. He made his way to me quicker than I could reply.

“What did I tell you ‘bout sitting in my chair, girl? You ain’t earned the right to-,”

The last time I saw Yondu’s eyes this wide Peter had accidently trapped himself in the airlock. Instantly I recall the now egregious idea of lounging about in naught but my underwear and a tank top.

Embarrassment washed over me and loosened my tongue.

“If you like what you see so much I would be happy to buy you a matching set. Sir.”

“I said, get up,” he repeated, shoving a finger in my face. Notes of the liquor he drowned himself in reached my nostrils. I fan my hand and wrinkle my nose.

“Sure you wouldn’t feel more at home in that bottle you just crawled out of?”

“UP.”

I stare him down lazily, sigh, readjust my position and unlock my data pad. He promptly yanks the device out of my hand, and throws it far across the room in one fluid and dismissive motion. The smarmiest grin stretches itself across his features. I shoot up instantly.

“Attagirl, now was that so hard?“

Without breaking eye contact I palm one of his figurines. His expression turns dour on the spot.

“Well, looks like someone is sobering up really quick.”

“You put that down right now, Y/n. I’m not playin’ with you.”

He fruitlessly swipes at the object; I procure it behind my back and dash to the right of the chair. He is far more hammered than I originally thought as his movements prove to be delayed and sloppy. Typically, Yondu has a frigid demeanor when something truly riles him, but not now. He was heated and it further handicapped his actions.

My unbridled mirth at the entire state of affairs probably didn’t improve matters.

“Hold still, dammit!”

“‘Stand up, put that down, hold still’ my we are awfully indecisive today, captain,” I toss the bauble back and forth between my hands, making sure to project the same flippant attitude he bestowed to my reading device. This proves to be a mistake as my overconfidence fails to register that his limbs have far superior reach than my own.

He snatches at the trinket while it briefly hovers in midair, yet instead of grabbing it his palm lands squarely on my right breast.

“Y/n! I’m trying to tell you it was an accident!”

I continue marching down the corridor.

“And what pervert DOESN’T accidently grab a woman’s boob and decides to leave it there, gawking like a goddamned idiot?”

He caught my arm and swung me around, forcing me to face him.

“Now listen here missy, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t parked your ass in my chair.”

“None of this wouldda happened if ya didn’t park yer ass in mah chair.”

Yondu grabbed my arms and secured them close to my sides, bringing me inches away from his face.

“Do you ever shut up?” Before I can mouth a reply, Yondu crashes his mouth onto mine. He greedily dominates the kiss, putting far more technique into it than I thought possible from someone so inebriated.

He pulls back and wordlessly taunts me for a response.

I nudge my arms free, seize the sides of his face and continue the kiss, pushing him against the wall in the process. Not be out done, he grabs me and pulls us into a nearby empty room. I urge his shoulders out of his coat, while he slipped his hands under my shirt. I gasp at the sensation of his touch, warm and rough. Taking advantage of my shock he maneuvers me to an empty table then proceeds to gently push my chest down. He drags his hands down to my hips, his fingers slip under the edge of the sliver of fabric separating us and peals them off.

Oh, fuck.

“Wait,” I plead. Precious few men have gone down on me while also making it genuinely enjoyable.

“Hush,” he ordered as he spread my legs apart.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

His tongue manipulated around, not overstimulating the most sensitive part of my anatomy. He tested the waters with little complaint on my part until he found the motion that I responded to the best.

And, Fuck.

I was dead wrong to assume he needed instruction. Moans escaped my lips despite my attempts to conceal them, if I somehow quieted the pleasure rippling threw me he simply increased the tempo, forcing my hips to squirm and move with him to maximize the sensation. The coil of pleasure knotting up within me grew hotter the longer we proceeded. “Don’t stop,” became my most ardent prayer, and like a generous celestial being he granted my request, sending me plummeting over the edge. My legs slump to the side as he pulled back, satisfied with his work.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. The sound of his belt coming undone faintly echoed in the room. I sit up and remove his shirt, lazily throwing it to the side. We kiss again, the pheromones from his salacious act fueling my desire for what was to come. Without warning, Yondu wraps my legs around his waist, and props me up against the wall. Wrapping my arms around his neck he begins gliding into me. I pull back, enjoying the rhythm, and snake my arms up finding some sort of pipe. Panting, I latch onto it and buck my hips in concert with his own. His head lulls to the side as the increased sensation urged him to climb his own precipice. “You’re fighting it,” I breathlessly comment. “C’mon baby, come. Come for me please.” “Fuck,” the speed of his thrusts suddenly quickens and becomes more wild until his peak is hit. I feel his body shudder as the wall of pleasure washes over his features, instantly relaxing him.

Hopping off the table, I pull my panties around my hips.

“Where ‘re you off to…?”

“Showers,” I reply heading towards the entrance. “You coming?”

He smiles lazily, and hoarsely chuckles, “Again?”

Fighting my own smile, I roll my eyes and exit the room, Yondu not far behind.

#yondu x reader #one shot #guardians of the galaxy #yondu udonta #request

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skarmorydraws · 7 years

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@tyrantisterror ATOM Create-A-Kaiju Contest Entry #1: Julkath

Date Discovered: December 25th, 1954

Place of Origin: The Glacier Oasis

Notable Stomping Grounds: The Glacier Oasis, The Siberian Monster Zone

Height: 90 feet

Length: 175 feet

Biology:

Julkath is a gigantic carnivoran, very closely related to all modern cats both wild and domesticated, although some aspects of his anatomy differ from any known modern feline. He has a barrel chest and stocky, muscular limbs rather like a bear, and flexible shoulders and hips, opposable thumbs, and dexterous paws that are disturbingly similar to those of primates. Though Julkath is by no means swift, he makes up for it by being both immensely strong and surprisingly acrobatic. His tail is thicker and more muscular than most cats, allowing it to be used as a prop so he can rear up on his hind legs for prolonged periods; the stability he gains from this tripodal stance, combined with his immense upper body strength, makes him excellent at grappling. Julkath is a much more active combatant than his bulk suggests, however, able to leap and clamber about, using the terrain to his advantage and pouncing from unexpected angles. His fighting moves are actually surprisingly similar to human wrestlers, save for the inclusion of razor-sharp retractable claws and enlarged, uniquely serrated canines. If feeling especially pressured, however, he can also unleash a deafening roar that can rupture eardrums at close range.

Julkath's evolutionary origin is not certain, for although his aforementioned relationship to modern felids certainly can’t be denied, the unusual aspects of his anatomy may be a hint that his ancestors diverged from the lineage millions of years ago. Scientists suspect that he may have evolved from a supposed race of Ice Age feline predators that were likely unusually intelligent and deft of paw even among their own kin, to the point that they would've evolved sapience had it not been for their sudden and mysterious extinction.

His territory is centered around what was once one of the few human settlements in what would become the Siberian Monster Zone, which happened to be close enough to the one nuclear test that the Russians attempted upon the kaiju that inhabited the area and also within proximity of the Yamaneon-rich Glacier Oasis. Despite being heavily fortified against most kaiju attacks, it was unfortunately susceptible to radioactive fallout from the blast and was quickly abandoned after the incident. In the years to follow the town was overtaken by plant life that absorbed the radiation; the animals that also colonized the region were thusly mutated upon consuming the irradiated vegetation, and to this day, the deer, pigs, and goats that live in the area grow much larger than anywhere else on Earth. Julkath himself probably moved in after escaping the Glacier Oasis in the aftermath of the nuclear blast, as the appeal of so many delicious meatbags was probably too tempting to ignore for anything big and strong enough to hunt them. It’s surprising that a super-large predator didn’t appear in the area sooner, as any wolves, bears, and wildcats in the area would certainly have mutated upon exploiting the irradiated herds currently living there; as it is, Julkath is likely the only creature capable of preying on the mutant plant-eaters he lords over, and may thus be the one thing capable of keeping their populations in check.

Julkath sports the standard kaiju set:

Super strength

An enhanced healing factor

Immunity to radiation

Booming Roar

Personality:

Most individuals, be it people or monsters, would be forgiven for believing Julkath to be a horrifying monstrosity, and with his unnatural anatomy and hulking ferocity he certainly looks the part. In truth, the great werecat is more antisocial and jealously protective than outright savage. He is almost defined by his obsessive vigilance over his territory, and utterly refuses to leave the area unless a global threat forces him into action - anything that spells doom for the whole planet certainly spells doom for his turf and food supply as well, after all. His stubborn insistence on remaining where he is makes him far less of a threat to civilization than any giant werecat has any right to be, and his solitary nature makes him much less likely to cooperate with others than most kaiju would appreciate. He’s an curmudgeonly, surly old geezer, and he apparently prefers to keep it that way.

However, observations from a safe distance may hint towards the possibility that his annoyance at basically everything may be a front to a certain extent. Despite being a well-armed colossus of fur, flesh, teeth, and claws, Julkath is still a cat at the end of the day, and far from being the majestic, rampaging terror presented by the media, he prefers to spend most of his free time doing cat things and nothing else. Eighteen hours of sleep, an hour or two of catching a couple of thirty-foot goats or boars, the remaining four or five hours playing with said goats or boars before devouring them, rinse and repeat. If anything, Julkath appears to be the kaiju equivalent of an aloof shepherd, content to keep an eye out on his livestock and simply watch the world go by. Monsters who think they can exploit this would be wise to have second thoughts, however; despite his habit of lazing around all day, it seems that Julkath is in fact keenly aware of the fragile ecological balance between him and his livestock, and that any disruption to it could lead to either the whole area being devastated by overgrazing or the werecat himself starving to death. As such, he will not hesitate to point out that anything that dares to plunder his territory does so at their own peril - more than one bloodthirsty or otherwise malicious kaiju has attempted to slaughter the oversized herd animals for ill-gotten sustenance, only for the furious feline to piledrive them into the dirt before ripping their throats out with his fearsome saber teeth.

First entry, yay! I’m aware that this is somewhat of a derivative entry, but I tried to make it stand out on its own. I hope I succeeded!

Julkath is based on Kal/Slashkal/Kalmorg, TT’s sabertooth monster who got cut from the current draft of ATOM because of difficulties trying to fit him in. I was sad to see Kal excluded from the main plotline, but with the contest allowing for redesigns of scrapped monsters to fit the 50′s/60′s kaiju aesthetic I figured I could jump on the challenge of making him work with the theme of the story. His design takes from the most current iteration of Kal, which basically composites his basis and look with the build of the mammoth kaiju that also got scrapped, for what I’m guessing are similar reasons. It’s a bulky, burly build that I liked a lot and suited the ambush predator nature of sabertooths in general. I always thought Kal looked rather plain even by the standards of ATOM, so I mixed in some lynx and snow leopard to give him a proper “snow cat” look. To make him look less boring I also decided to include aspects of one of Morg’s earlier drafts, wherein he could stand up and use his forepaws like hands. The overall look ended up becoming some kind of werebeast, and I don’t know if it fits as well with the 50′s theme as some of the other ATOM kaiju entries I’ve seen, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at least partly influenced by the 1942 horror film, Cat People. (Speaking of, the date when Julkath was first sighted is also the date when the original Cat People was released, though the year is the same as when Mastemuth and Glypton also first appeared. ;D) While I’m still not sure if his design exactly works with the 50′s/60′s sci-fi theme, his backstory certainly does - the fate of his territory is a dual homage to both the abandoned Chernobyl disaster site being overtaken by nature and populated by animals that would be hunted elsewhere, and the concept art for Ray Harryhausen’s proposed adaptation of H.G. Wells’ The Food of the Gods and How It Came to Earth, which sadly never saw the light of day.

Personality-wise, I basically combined aspects of Grumpy Cat (the internet depiction, not Tardar Sauce herself), the tusk cats from Star Wars, and actual cat behavior. Kal was defined entirely by his rivalry with Morg before both got cut, but I always thought that was kinda boring because if two characters exist only to fight each other, that leaves very little room for interactions with anyone else in the story. Julkath doesn’t have a specific arch-nemesis to be defined by, so he’s more akin to that irritable old recluse from too many family media works to count who yells at kids to GIT OFF MAH GODDAMN LAWN.

While his bio doesn’t give it away completely, my imagining for this guy was that as with several other animal groups such as lizards/snakes, fish, long-necked sea tyrants, and insects, Julkath’s ancestors would also have given rise to the magical felines that would have no doubt appeared in the fantasy era of TT’s alternate universe (if TT allows for that sort of thing). Cat monsters are a thing in nearly every continent, and I think it would only make sense to lump all of them into a single family! (I don’t know if this includes manticores and sphinxes too, but that’s for TT to decide.) His name is a portmanteau of two of these kitties in particular: Jólaköttur, the Icelandic Yule Cat, and the source of inspiration for that white spot on his chest, the Nordic Cat Sith.

I don’t know if suitimation or stop-motion would be good ways to bring this guy to life in a hypothetical 50′s film setting, but I can see either of them working pretty well - maybe even dressing up an actual cat and back-projecting it to look big like in The Killer Shrews, if you want to be especially silly.

#Skarmory's art #kaiju #cats #Atomic Time of Monsters #tyrantisterror #and yes he totally does the catloaf thing :3

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Tommy Chong Talks Cheech & Chong Delivery Systems, Old and New

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Smoking more now but getting high less? The iconic comedy duo Cheech and Chong have always had a solution. The very names Tommy Chong and Cheech Marin are synonymous with weed culture. When The Simpsons ran an episode on dispensaries being legalized in Springfield, they referred to stoners as “Cheech and Chongs.” The pair won’t be selling out of the back of an ice cream truck, like they did in Nice Dreams. Cheech & Chong are doing it legal. They even got a license.

Together with Five Point Holdings, they will license the Cheech & Chong Brand to open dispensaries. Right now they’re going for licenses in California, Nevada, Arizona, Illinois and Washington. The dispensaries will feature cannabis products from both Tommy Chong’s Cannabis and Cheech’s Stash brands. The outlets will also be the first place to purchase Cheech and Chong clothing and memorabilia.

The duo goes back to the late 1960s. Chong had been the guitarist and songwriter for the Vancouvers, a Canadian band signed to Motown. When the band broke up he formed the improvisational group City Works. Southern Californian Mexican-American Richard “Cheech” Marin moved to Canada to avoid the draft during the Vietnam War and joined the group. They rolled weed culture in a big bambu, toured and recorded massively successful albums. Their bits altered the consciousness and the history of standup comedy at a time when the art form was going through some of its most expansive and experimental period.

Their movies – Up in Smoke (1978), Cheech and Chong’s Next Movie (1980), and Nice Dreams (1981) – most of which were directed by Chong, lampooned the legal limits imposed on marijuana, and defined the paranoia which surrounded pot for non-white smokers. Cheech went on to direct, write, collect art and act in more than 20 films, including Once Upon A Time In Mexico, and television series like Nash Bridges, Lost, and Grey’s Anatomy. Chong did a regular stint on Fox’s That 70’s Show and an irregular one at the Taft Correctional Institution. He’d gotten caught in a government sting on drug paraphernalia in 2003, signed a plea deal to protect his family and served nine months. Chong consistently promoted the medicinal benefits of marijuana while battling prostate cancer, touted its recreational values and fought for its decriminalization.

John Ashcroft may not like it, but now you can score from the Man himself. Tommy Chong spoke with Den of Geek about smoke, mirrors and rock and roll.

DEN OF GEEK: Have you tried all the strains in the Cheech & Chong brand?

TOMMY CHONG: Probably, but I lose track. People always ask, “What’s your favorite strain?” and I say, “Anything handed to me.” My favorite strain is marijuana. My second favorite strain is cannabis.

You’re on your way to being the Paul Newman of pot. Do you see spreading your seeds as a spiritual calling?

Oh, absolutely, absolutely, but only if I’m asked.

How is this different from Tommy Chong’s Cannabis or Cheech’s Private Stash?

It’s a combination. People got hooked on Cheech’s stash. It’s there. It’ll be there with the locals and everything. But the whole thing, it’s going to be a store and so we’re going to have everything in there. And then we’re going to have new products that we’ve come up with. Cannabis is the main thing and our names are there to give people assurance that you’re not only going to get the best quality but you’re also going to get a few laughs.

And for those autograph seekers and people that are collectors, autograph collectors, I started sketching little cartoon figures so I’m getting deluged with requests for my sketches. And people are sending me free canvases. I had a postcard made up that says the sketches cost a hundred bucks. If they pay it, fine. If they don’t, that’s even better.

I read that you used to give away pot to your opening acts. Did you actually start the dispensary to liquidate your personal stash?

That’s a good question. Yeah, actually. The thing about weed, it’s got a hell of a shelf life. I mean, I’ve got weed here I think it’s been 30, 40 years old, and I smoke it and it works. But you know what happens is, if you smoke a lot of weed, you become an easy high. You know what I’m saying? I’ve been around people, they can never get enough but they can never get enough of anything, be it weed or food or whatever or anything. They’re just people that have a high tolerance. With me, I’m a lightweight. I’m a one-toker, that’s it.

Lucky you. Where is the legalization battle now?

We’re looking to take the stigma off it. Get it legalized federally so we can bank our money, so we can join the corn and barley and the rest of the cash crops. That’s all we are. We’re just a cash crop. We’re an agricultural product, that’s all. It’s no different. Treat us like aspirin. That’s a product from a tree. So, that’s what we want. Take away the racist quality of it and then we’re fine. You take racism out of the country, we’re going to have a nice country. Because right now there are too many little racist things all over the place and this Black Lives Matter, they’re getting rid of a lot of it. Finally, the Washington Redskins are going to change their name.

I’ve been on that bandwagon for a long time because it’s horrible. You know why they called it Redskins? Because there was a bounty on natives for a long time, and so the red signified the blood. So, in order to show that you had killed a native, you took a piece of the skin. Like they did in the old days, they took scalps, you know? The red blood was the red skin to signify blood. Not the color of the man but the color of the blood. It was a bounty. I mean, back in the day natives did the same thing. They scalped white settlers, white people too, for the same reason, so they had proof that they killed or at least scalped somebody. But no, it’s a very militant, racist memory. And then they got a logo of an Indian on the helmet itself. So, no, there’s no place for that kind of racism.

If pot is decriminalized, where are for-profit prisons going to get their free labor?

Exactly. I mean, that’s what Trump was trying to do with the migrants, stick them in prison. You get that free labor. But listen, the drug laws, the cocaine and all that shit, you’re right, it’s all been done on purpose. A lot of them are designed purposely to create that labor force.

You were the only first-time offender caught up in Operation Pipe Dreams and you went under the Bush policy on mandatory sentencing. First of all, were you ever pardoned?

I turned down a pardon. Obama was going to pardon me, but I turned it down because I think part of the pardon process, I may be wrong, is to denounce your crime and say that you would never do that. The reason I turned it down is because it was a bogus charge, it was a racist law, and I’m very proud to have served that time and I’m very proud, really, to have that on my back. They hinted that if I did some anti-drug commercials or something that they could give me house arrest or something. It was all bullshit. I did an anti-drug commercial one time, but it didn’t turn out very anti-drug.

In the ’80s there was this anti-pot PSA on the subways, something like, “My little Timmy is an A-student. He plays on the football team and he works after school. How could someone like him have gotten into pot?” Something like that. I always wondered, and you can tell me, would he have had the energy to do that if he wasn’t smoking pot?

That’s right. Little A-student. Hey listen, we wouldn’t be talking on this cell phone if it wasn’t for potheads. We wouldn’t have had a computer. The computer would have been some dream, if it wasn’t for potheads. Well, look at Steve Jobs and Wozniak. They were big potheads and they would smoke a joint and they’d go, “Oh my God, yeah, here’s what we do, yeah.” So much of our lifestyle. That’s why the legalization thing, it’s just like any other stupid, racist laws that we have that we’re cleaning up as we change administration. One thing about Trump, you got to admit that he did clear the swamp. He did know that he was the Judas goat that we needed to identify the swamp creatures, but he fulfilled that promise.

I read that the first time you got high was after a jazz player gave you a Lenny Bruce record and a joint. Which was the bigger gateway drug and how did they interact?

Well, I used to go to this little jazz club in Calgary because it was really only after-hours place that provided music. It was a private club. And if you brought your guitar, if you were a musician you got in free. I couldn’t play jazz but I was a blues guitar player, so I used to bring my guitar and set it by the door and come in and listen to the jazz. Just hang out.

This bass player, he was a friend of mine, he was a Chinese guy, Raymond Mah, he came back from LA with a Lenny Bruce album and a joint. He handed both to me and I put the joint in my pocket and he lit up one of his joints and it was the first time I ever smoked. I just took a couple of hits and I got so high. Whoa. Then when I went home I did up my own joint. I would just take one toke and it lasted me a month. I had the best time. I’d take a toke and then I’d listen to Lenny and laugh so hard. Oh my God. I played that record for my son and he could not see the humor. He did not see the humor in it at all.

I love Lenny Bruce. He’s a jazz comic really.

Well, jazz clubs were one of the only venues that he could work. There were no comedy clubs. He worked whatever club he could work. But the jazz clubs, The Hungry I in San Francisco, that’s where Lenny worked. He got arrested for saying dirty words on stage. That’s how racist the laws and the cops were back then, they could tell you what you could say on stage or how you could look, how you could dress. It was crazy.

Cheech & Chong came up at the same time as a wave of comedic change was happening: Richard Pryor, George Carlin. Did you see your pot humor as political?

Not really, no. I mean, I was influenced by Lenny but I never had any ax to grind. See, Cheech and I, we weren’t going to be comedians in the beginning. He’s a singer and I’m a guitar player, so we put a band together. Because we’d been doing comedy for nine months, it was only natural that when we stepped on stage the first thing we’d do would be some funny bits.

Well, one funny bit led to another and led to another and led to another. Next thing you know the show was over and we hadn’t played one note. And I realized that, “Oh man, we’ve got something here.” So, I told the band … The bass player was funny. “Hey, when’s our next gig boss?” Because he sat and watched the whole show. But everybody got paid and then we went home and Cheech and I are driving along home trying to figure out what we should call ourselves. I asked him if he had a nickname and he said, “Yeah, Cheech.” And so that was the beginning of a great, great career.

So, in regular conversation you call him Cheech, not Richard?

Yeah, it’s Cheech now. Cheech. Never Richard. His first wife called him Richard because she didn’t want him to be Cheech, she wanted him to be Richard. “Richard.”

Did you see how you were affecting social change, or did you see yourselves as reflecting it?

When we started doing comedy records, that’s when I started doing social consciousness. Like Welcome to Mexico. That was a political thing because at the time they weren’t letting long-haired hippies into Mexico. So we did a bit about Jesus going to Mexico and being kicked out. “Welcome to Mexico. Where are you going?”

“I came to see my children. I have children everywhere.”

Yeah, yeah. Oh God. We had so much fun doing things. But we would do ethnic jokes, but not jokes but bits. Just crazy, and it all came from pot because we could hoard pot. We always had a joint somewhere. It’s funny, we never went out of our way to buy it. It always was there. It’s weird how people, “Hey, you got a joint?” “Yeah, okay.” That’s the way it’s always been. There’s no organization. Like when Cheech and I would record. The first thing we found out after we did “Dave’s Not Here,” we were rehearsing, Lou [Adler] tried recording it live in a studio, but it lost a lot of things. First of all, we had to reset and all that other shit.

So, after one recording session with Lou we said, “We got to record in a mix down room. All we need is an engineer.” And that’s all we did, we did everything with an engineer and just Cheech and I because we needed that freedom to come up with the craziness. Because when you have a recording session, you have to have the music written out, you have to know what you’re doing, you got to rehearse because it costs a lot of money to have people hanging around.

After we did “Dave’s Not Here,” Lou said, “Okay, what else you got?” So, Cheech and I wrote right then, we did “Blind Melon Chitlin’.” I’m getting a lot of flak from that now. Not a lot, but I’m getting some flak for wearing blackface in Still Smoking.

Both you and Cheech straddled the world of comedy and music. So, which tent was more comfortable and who threw the better parties?

When we were just recording, before we became really a touring group, we were hanging out with the Three Dog Night people and going to whatever parties Ed Caraeff had or stuff like that. No, no, we were never into that party. I had been with Motown and our group was very boring. We never partied. And I had a wife. She was my girlfriend at the time. I was married too, so I had two wives. So, we never really did the parties. Let’s take it back. When we were trying to get a record deal, yeah, we would go to the odd party then, but it never turned out well at all. That’s when cocaine was pretty popular and so there would be cocaine parties and they weren’t fun at all. You get too stoned and too worked up. When you’re trying to make it you’re broke. You don’t have any money. So, what you do, you become a hanger-on. You just leech onto whoever’s throwing the party.

We were never consumers, food or booze or anything like that. Actually, what we were doing was collecting bits. We would talk to people and then people would tell us some funny bit then we’d use it, or we’d get an idea to do another bit. But we were just hanging around just to be in the gang more than anything with the Three Dog Night. They knew a lot of the rockers at the time.

Later on when Cheech and I became Cheech & Chong, there were, I don’t know what you’d call them. They’re not really parties but after the show things. Encounters. But even then, both Cheech and I, we couldn’t get too serious with anything because we had a wife and family at home.

I have your unauthorized autobiography. Can you tell the story about the welcome to the neighborhood you got in Harlem?

Oh, welcome to New York. Yeah, Harlem. We were going to perform at the Apollo Theater. Whoa, it was the biggest deal: An R&B group playing at the Apollo Theater. Especially Bobby Taylor because he was from New York and he used to be one of those kids that would go to the Apollo. So, we were all excited. We pulled up in our car. I guess we had a rented station wagon, yeah. And we’re all looking at, I guess it was Patti LaBelle rehearsing, and we’re all there backstage looking, and then we look over and there’s our roadie, he was supposed to be with the equipment. And, “Joe, what are you doing?” “Oh, watching this.” So, we went running out there and sure enough they’d broken into the car and stole the bass. Wow.

But one time I was walking from the hotel to the Apollo Theater and I come up to this group of people and there’s one guy standing there with a guitar, holding a guitar like he’s going to hit somebody with it. And it looked like he was going to hit me. At first, I kind of looked, “What?” Then I turned around and I seen behind me was a guy with a knife, a bigass knife. Next thing you know, the guy holding the guitar, he takes off running, and the guy with the knife runs and starts jabbing him in the ass with the knife. Oh man. And nobody on the street even looked at it. They just went around their business like it wasn’t happening, like it was so normal. It was whoa, like you say, welcome to Harlem. That was scary.

The Vancouvers’ Bobby Taylor was an amazing singer. I know he discovered The Jackson 5 and you guys toured with them. You co-wrote the hit “Does Your Mother Know About Me,” and it builds to this beautiful chord that changes the entire flow of the song and it comes out of nowhere. When you’re writing something like that, what comes first, the words, the melody or that chord?

It was a poem. I wrote a poem. That’s how I write, I write poetry. And Tom Barrett, our composer, we were doing his songs and he looked at my poetry and said, “Do you mind if I take this with me?” He went home and he wrote the first part.

Then he came back to Wes and I, the bass player, and he said, “Now, I’m trying to do the bridge and Wes says, “How about … ” and he played the note, and it’s a major note. Well, it could have been a minor note but I played the major chord with the note because I’m not that versed musically. I’m more of a poet. And so I played a major chord and Tom Barrett goes, “Oh, I like that, I like that.” And it’s backwards, major minor instead of minor major, and he loved it.

Then that kicked it off for the next chorus and then he did it again. That change itself made that song unique. The Tower of Power, they copied the changes because they loved that major chord. It just resonates and all of a sudden you’re going major. I found out too it’s from a classical music score, that they would do that in classical music.

I was with my daughter’s boyfriend, he’s a guitar player, and we were trying to figure out the chords of this one song and he told me a lot of it’s from the classical, if you have classical training. And I think that’s what Tom Barrett loved about that chord too, because it had a classical music sound to it. But yeah, it worked really good.

It’s a beautiful song and that chord is what really propels the whole thing. Can you talk about jamming with George Harrison and Klaus Voorman and Ronnie Spector on “Basketball Jones?”

Well, I never really did because we would lay down the main track and then they’d come in and do their parts. So we never really jammed. Just like The Jackson 5. We were on tour with The Supremes. But when you get your group, man, that’s all you play is your songs. Unfortunately, we never had a chance to jam except when I had that after hours club in Vancouver. That’s when we jammed with some real fucking heavies. Unbelievable. I’ll tell you one story. My club was downstairs from a hippie club called The Retinal Circus and one week James Browne was in town. He was playing at the big stadium, The Gardens Ballroom or The Gardens. Anyway, James’ whole band was there. He had a big 16-piece orchestra.

So, they all came down to the club after and they’re on stage playing with us, with our band. We had a horn man. We had all sorts of people up there. And upstairs The Rolling Stones were appearing and they hardly got a crowd because James Brown was in town and Vancouver was a big R&B town at that time. The psychedelic music, and especially the Stones, they were just not happening at the time at all.

So, I looked up, my brother gave me a sign, I looked up and there’s Ron Wood standing there trying to get in the club. It was packed. I didn’t see Keith or Mick, but Ron was standing there waving at me and saying, “Hey man, can you get me in?” The club was too packed and I just ignored it. So, the Stones never got into our club that night. Oh man.

You got high with three of The Beatles?

Yeah, I got everybody except Paul. I smoked with George many times, many, many times. Every time we’d see each other. He was a guitar player and I’m kind of a guitar player and he really respected Cheech & Chong. He loved what we did. At that level. Like Bob Dylan, he really respected Cheech & Chong too because he saw what we were doing. We were different, unique. We weren’t chasing some kind of fad, we were creating.

I smoked in front of John Lennon. He was sitting on the floor. He’s so funny. I offered him a toke and he said, “No man,” he’s worried about his immigration problems. And who else? Oh, Rod Stewart came in and he refused to smoke because of his voice. And Ringo. There’s another crazy story, Keith Moon. We were getting high in front of Ringo and Ringo was in rehab. He was trying to get rid of an alcohol problem. Paul was the only one. And I put out the word and I’ve got friends that know Paul, that did his videos and that, and they told Paul and Paul’s ready. Whenever we’re together, we’re going to smoke. The only Beatle I never got high with.

Carl Reiner died the other day. His and Mel Brooks’s “2000 Year Old Man,” along with Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on First” and your and Cheech’s “Dave’s Not Here” are encapsulations of the duo styles. So, who were you following as a duo and where do you see yourselves in the comedy duo history alongside Laurel and Hardy and Key & Peele and Martin and Lewis?

Well, believe it or not, my influence as a duo was the Smothers Brothers. It was Tom Smothers. He played that dummy. I really liked Tom. I liked the way he interacted with his brother. Yeah, that was the only one. Nobody else. We got one compliment one time from Jerry Lewis. They were telling Jerry Lewis, “Hey, there’s no more comedy teams,” and Jerry said, “Oh yes there are.” They said, “Who?” and he said, “Cheech & Chong.” And it was Jerry Lewis. I like everybody.

But we were never that kind of Carl Reiner/Mel Brooks type of delivery. That was really radio comedy where you get out in front. Although Smothers Brothers, I just liked Tom’s attitude with what he had. Cheech and I, our whole thing was unique. We never really copied. Everybody copied us.

We’ve been told by so many people, moviemakers especially, Tarantino and Spike Lee and all these guys, they really appreciated our movie making skills. In the movies, I was influenced by Jerry Lewis because Jerry Lewis used video when he shot his movies and he was the only one to do it. Then I did it and now they shoot movies with video.

Who do you see as the next generation Cheech & Chong?

I have no idea. Key & Peele, they had a shot but then he made that movie and I don’t think we’ll ever see that duo again. As far as comedy goes, I guess Dave Chappelle is a must-see because he’s so wise in so many ways. But I love Kevin Hart. He was a judge on Dancing with the Stars, and when I did my tango he gave me a 10. It was the only 10 I got, from some other comedian. So, I love Kevin Hart because of that. As far as comedians go, my hero for standup was always Redd Foxx. I knew Redd Foxx personally. That was one show that I made sure I saw. I saw Richard Pryor live when he was in the clubs and I saw Redd Foxx in the clubs.

To this day, I have never seen a comedian like Redd. Redd did two hours when I was there. One hour he had the crowd so high they were screaming, laughing so hard, and then he brought them down. He brought them down so much that they were running, literally leaving the club, getting out of the club. And he did it on purpose. Then he opened the door and people would leave and then he went back on stage and did another hour. To this day, I’m in awe. I could never do it. I got to the point where I’d do a good solid hour, hour and a half if I had to, but never like Redd Foxx.

Do you think it’s different doing standup as a duo? Is there less pressure because you’re bouncing off each other?

Oh yeah. You got more control. You entertain each other. Cheech and I always did. Even to this day when we go now, I’ll do some bits alone and I swerve like crazy, I go all over the place. And Cheech, he’s backstage, like old days. We broke the mold. Now, it’s sort of like our golden oldie set

You can learn more about Cheech & Chong’s branded dispensary at Five Point Holdings.

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