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Found 109 results

  1. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 9

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

    Elder on the left? Fully asleep. She's in her late nineties, and doesn't have the energy to be mean to Nebu.
  2. Mab

    Arancia

    From the album: Mab's Art

    Orange ocelot to go with my friend's strawberry leopard. They're both fun to draw.
  3. Mab

    Champagne

    From the album: Mab's Art

    The best self-portraits are frivolous self-portraits. :D
  4. Mab

    Divinity - Page 2

    From the album: Mab's Art

  5. Mab

    Divinity - Page 1

    From the album: Mab's Art

    Short comic about Salo, sponsored by my patrons on Patreon last year that I reworked a bit now that my visual storytelling is better. :)
  6. kilwave

    Alluring

    From the album: November 2018

    Colored Sketch Bust commission
  7. kilwave

    Intimate

    From the album: November 2018

    Sketch Illustration commission
  8. kilwave

    Pastel Goth

    From the album: November 2018

    Character pin-up commission
  9. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 8

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

    A bit early for that much shade, elders.
  10. Kindar

    Chapter 39

    The Missing Son 39 "Patrick," His mother said in breathless surprise, "I can't accept that." She'd just unwrapped the gift he'd put on her plate. Patrick smiled as he sliced the ham. Like previous years, this Christmas dinner was a simple thing. He and his mom, with a roasted ham. "You needed a new phone, mom." He'd bought it a few days ago and kept it in his underwear drawer. "But," She held the phone in her hand, sand colored, not a scratch on it. "How much did you pay for it?" He put the plate on the table and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about that, mom. You deserve it." It wasn't a top of the line, he couldn't afford that, not that he would have bought such an expensive phone. It was mid-range. he'd paid extra for the warranty, she wouldn't have to worry about anything happening to it, damage or theft. He took the bread out of the oven, where he'd left it to stay warm. "I'll help you set it up after we've eaten. It's holo capable, with a display that can go up to fifteen inch in full light. It has more processing power than the computer in my room, so you won't have to borrow it anymore. And you won't have to worry about the battery running down in the middle of the day. There's also an ear clip included." "Patrick, I didn't get you anything." "You already got me the best present I could ask for." He said putting a bottle of wine on the table. Two weeks before, his father invited them to go skating, and she'd agreed. It wasn't the first time they invited her to a family activity, but she'd always found excuses not to go. Patrick tried to convince her, but he didn't push once she protested. They'd taken the bus downtown to the outdoor rink, and his family welcomed her. She'd been uncomfortable, but polite. She didn't put on skates. she sat on a bench on the side and watched them. Patrick didn't see any of them discuss it, but one of his brothers was always seated with her. Between trying to stay on his feet while his fathers helped him get the hang of it, and ending up on his ass, Patrick saw Albert talking with her, paper and pen in hand. Then it was Adam. He was so stunned to see her with Aiden, laughing, he skated right into a hippopotamus family, before ended up on his ass again. With profuse apologies on his part and laughter on theirs they helped him up and he went back to tittering about. His fathers skated circles around him, forward and backward. They'd learned to skate back in Pittsburgh, they told him, in their youth, they spent most winter weekend at the local rink on skates and picking up guys. His brothers were better skaters than he was, but nowhere near as good as their fathers, except for Anakin, who did a lot of roller skating. Patrick sat down and put his hands together. "Thank you, God, for this food, for the gifts you give us and the family around us. Amen." "Amen," his mother echoed, and then they ate. In the middle of the meal, his phone buzzed. he checked it quickly, a file from his father. He'd check it once they were done eating. * * * * * Patrick sat on his bed with his phone on his lap, the display at eye level. He dried his eyes and played the video his family sent him again. His fathers were seated on the couch, with Arthur on one side, Aiden on the other. Alex, Aaron, Adam and Albert standing behind, and Anakin seated on the floor. They were wearing sweatpants and wool sweater in green red and white with animal designs on them. "Hi Patrick," his father said. "So, you made it clear you didn't want us spending money on you this Christmas, so we spent money on us, and bought these sweaters in your honor." "Yeah," Adam said, "You should be honored we're wearing anything at all." Alex smacked his brother behind the head. "Don't listen to him." His fathers shook their heads. "Anyway. Back when we were kids we'd go caroling around the neighborhoods, we thought we'd do that for you." "We even brought an actual star to sing with us!" Adam exclaimed. Patrick had been curious as to whom he'd meant, but then chuckled when he realized he meant Aiden. The started with Silent Night, harmonizing perfectly. Then on to Joy to the World, The Holy and the Ivy, Do you hear What I hear, and then they fell silent. A moment later Aiden sang quietly a song Patrick hadn't recognized. The lyrics told of a child searching the world, guided by a star, looking for his family. halfway through it, Patrick started crying as he realized the song was about him. When Aiden stopped singing Patrick noticed his brothers' and his fathers' eyes were wet too. "Merry Christmas Patrick," His father said. "And happy baby Jesus day!" Adam winced when Aaron smacked him, then his legs were kicked out from under him and his brothers piled on top of him. Laughter resounded as the video ended. Patrick restarted it and paused it immediately, looking at his family. he wished he as with them right now, but he'd be going to midnight mass in a few hours, not that he was looking forward to that, and he wasn't sure he was ready to participate in the kind of celebrating he expected his fathers and brothers to indulged in, not quite yet. He put the ear clip in place and called them, hoping they weren't in the middle of anything too ... vigorous. "Merry Christmas Patrick," his father said and a chorus of greetings resounded. "Merry Christmas dad. Thanks for the video, it was amazing." "You're welcome. we wanted to do something special for you." "It was. Tell Aiden I loved his song." Patrick found his eyes getting wet again. His father must have done something to indicate what he'd said because there were cheers. "I wish you were here to celebrate with us." "I wish I was too." Patrick chuckled. "Although I think I'd probably be mortified to see all of you naked in a pile." The hard-on he got at that image told him he might be closer to being ready than he thought. "Don't worry, if you were here, we'd have a more accepted celebration." Patrick was silent for a moment, trying to understand how he felt about his family's willingness to change their ways for him. "No dad. When I'll be celebrating with you, it's going to be because I'm ready to celebrate the way you do it." He smiled. "the way an Orr does." It was his father's turn to be silent. "I look forward to that day." Me too, Patrick thought. "I'll let you get back to it. Oh, and tell Adam that technically, it's Baby Jesus Birthday day." His father laughed. "I'll pass along the message." Patrick disconnected the call and went back to looking at the image of his family. He captured the image and transfered it to the frame on his bedside table. * * * * * Patrick walked up the steps to the church next to his mother. If she hadn't insisted he wouldn't be here. She'd played on his guilt a little. After all, she'd made effort to get along with his father, and she hadn't asked that he go to the Sunday services. The least he could do was come to the midnight mass with her, even if he didn't want to have anything to do with Father Durony. Like he did at every Christmas mass, the priest was standing by the door, greeting everyone. Patrick though about finding a different door, but his mother held his hand. "Margarette, I'm so glad you could come," Father Durony said, shaking her hands. "I'd never miss midnight mass, Father." "I know you wouldn't." She went in and it was Patrick's turn. The priest startled on seeing him. "Father," was all Patrick said. "Patrick." Patrick didn't offer his hand, nor did the priest. They stared for a moment, during which Patrick thought he caught some contempt in the priest's eyes, and Patrick went in. The mass was good. Father Durony spoke of Jesus's birth, of the magis, seeking him out, of how his birth brought hope to all of God's children, even those who turned his back on Him. Patrick thought that was directed at him, but the priest was wrong. Patrick hadn't turned his back on God, just on Father Durony's church. It was the first year he didn't feel closer to God by the time the service was over.
  11. Kindar

    Chapter 38

    The Missing Son 38 With fall's arrival he didn't get to see his family as much. His brothers went back to school, even Aaron decided on another year, instead of enlisting. They all got together every few weekends to play football or baseball at the park. Patrick tried to get his mother to join them, but she declined, using her job at the diner as an excuse. * * * * * "Patrick?" His mother asked, knocking on his bedroom door. "can I talk to you for a moment?" "Sure." Patrick turned off the display on his phone and set it on the bedside table. She entered, looking around and shaking her head at the clutter before focusing on him. "It's about your father." It had been a month and a half since the dinner, and she hadn't said a word about it. He hadn't pushed, he knew she wasn't comfortable with the subject. "I've been thinking, and... I mean, I think we should invite him, well them, for thanksgiving." "Their whole family?" Patrick was surprise she was making the offer. "No, no. Just him, and his brother, of course. We couldn't fit all of them, how many children did they say they have?" "Seven." She shook her head. "Right, no, we definitely couldn't fit all of them." "Are you sure it's a good idea? They could be celebrating Thanksgiving with their family." "Yes, you're right, what was I thinking?" She turned to leave. "Wait, I'll call and ask them." If she was inviting them, that was clear progress and he didn't want to discourage her outright. She gave him a weak smile. "Alright." Then left his room. Patrick wondered what had brought that on, she hadn't shown any interest in spending time with them before. he shrugged, just happy she did, and called his father. "Hi dad." "Hi son, what's up?" "Well, my mom wanted to know if the two of you would be interested in having thanksgiving dinner with us." "She invited us?" "Yeah, I was surprised too." "I'd like to, considering she's making the effort, but I'm going to have to check with the kids. We usually go all out as a family on that day." "I understand." "Let me call you back in an hour or so, they're all working on school work right now." "Sure." And hour later his father called back. "Me and Donny are all good to go. The kids are insisting we go, they really want your mom to come to the birthday party and if that's what it takes to make her comfortable, they are all for it." "I'll tell my mom, and we'll see you both on the 26th." * * * * * The meal was simpler this time, since his mother had to work the noon shift at the dinner. Chicken with stuffing out of a box, store bought bread, but the cranberry sauce was home made. His fathers only brought one bottle of white wine, as he's asked. For dessert it was going to be a chocolate cake with a choice of maple walnut ice cream, his favorite, or vanilla. They were in the middle of the meal, with his mother regaling them about a customer who demanded to have the whole thanksgiving experience at the dinner, when someone knocked at the door. She'd been telling them how He'd gotten into a shouting match with the cook because they couldn't do the stuffing to go with his turkey, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes. She stopped talking and looked down the hall. "Did you invite anyone else Patrick?" she asked, then looked at Donald, how was wearing a purple button-down shirt and Daniel, how had a plain white one. "We didn't, promise." Daniel said. Patrick went to stand but she waved him down. "I'll get it." Donald chuckled bitterly. "I guess even here you aren't immune from the door to door sellers." "Looks like it," Patrick replied. "Maybe we should have a talk with Dam," Daniel said, "have him outlaw the act." Patrick stared at his father, mouth open. "He's kidding," Donald reassured Patrick. "Anyway, it isn't something Damian is going make happen." They exchanged a look that made Patrick question that statement. Okay, just who the- "Father Durony! What are you doing here?" Patrick cursed under his breath. "Hello Margarette," The priest answered. "This year I decided to visit all my parishioner on this special day and help them give thanks." "Ahh, that's very good of you, Father, but..." "No need to thank me, Margarette, it's simply my duty to my flock." Footsteps moved toward the kitchen, the hard-sole shoes of Father Durony clacking on the old wooden floor in the hall. "Patrick, how are you," the old ram said as he entered the room. "Oh, you have guests, I had no idea." "Yes," Margarette said, just behind him. "That is Donald, this is Daniel. They are, err, friends of the family." "I am so glad to meet you. Which church do you go to?" "We're from the other side of the city," Daniel said amicably. "I doubt you've heard of it." He gave his brother a warning glance. "I hope your pastor takes good care of you and your soul." His mother pleaded with Patrick, mouthing 'I didn't know.' Patrick gave her a small nod. He believed her, but he had trouble believing the priest was here by accident. "And you Patrick," the priest continued, either unaware, of ignoring the looks being exchanged. "How have you been." "I've been okay." "I'm glad to hear it. Have you seen your father since we last talk? Have you been able to talk with him about his sins, and how to get back on the Path?" Daniel gave Patrick a questioning look, but Patrick was looking at Donald, whose face was hardening. It was his mother who spoke up. "Father, please. this isn't the place for such talk." "Of course, please accept my apology." His mother nodded. "Patrick, why don't you go get an extra chair for Father Durony." Patrick stood out of reflex, even if he didn't want the priest to stay. They had a couple of old foldout chairs in the linen closet down the hall. "Please Patrick, no need to bother, I won't be staying. How about I lead us in a short prayer to give thanks?" His mother forced a smile, "of course." Father Durony closed his eyes and brought his hands together. Donald opened his mouth, but closed it again at Daniel's glare. "We thank you, our heavenly Father, for the food you give us, for the time you allow us to spend with our family and friends and we ask that you give us the strength to withstand temptation. Amen." "Amen," Patrick and his mother echoed. Father Durony eyed Patrick's fathers. "I don't believe I heard you say Amen." Daniel smiled at the priest. "We didn't feel it was needed." It was clear to Patrick Donald was keeping his mouth shut through will power. "At least please tell me you joined in the prayer. It was the Christian thing to do." "Alright, why don't you shut up." Donald erupted. "Donald!" his mother exclaimed. "Dad," Patrick warned. Even before the silence fell Patrick realized he'd made things worse. Father Durony was the first one to find his voice. "So, you're the sinner." He turned to Daniel. "How can you let your brother carry on living in sin? don't you care at all for his soul?" "Shut the fuck up." Donald growled. "What me and Danny chose to do behind closed door is none of your fucking business." "Don't you dare take that tone of voice with me. I'm the voice of God. You will show me respect." "Like Hell I will after you spoke to me that way. You get what you throw out, you can't swallow it you keep your muzzle shut." "Can't you get it through your thick skull that I'm trying to save your immortal soul?" Father Durony screamed. "Bullshit!" Donald was on his feet, fingers almost jabbing at the ram's muzzle. "You're just hoping to make yourself feel better by trying to make me feel bad. Well I got news for you. We're perfectly fine with who we are, so you're going to have to get your cheap kicks somewhere else." Father Durony swatted the finger aside. "If you think I'm going to let your heathen ways infect Patrick's soul..." "Silence!" Patrick's roar stunned everyone into it. "dad, sit down." Patrick stood. "Patrick." "Sit your ass the fuck down." Donald's expression was pained as he sat. The priest smiled in victory, but that lasted only until Patrick grabbed him by the collar. "And you're getting the fuck out of my mother's house." He dragged him to the door and it was only with effort that he didn't throw him out. "Patrick, I implore that you listen to me." "Shut up Durony. There's nothing you can say that I want to hear." "But that man is a danger to your soul." "No. He's my father. You're the danger here. I'm done listening to your bigoted opinions. I can't stop my mom from going to church, but I fucking hope that after your display she's going to know better than to think that anything you have to say comes from Gods." "I am God's voice on Earth." "Bullshit. God doesn't speak of intolerance and bigotry. He speaks of love and tolerance. You're the bigoted one, and you're hiding behind God." "You are making a dangerous mistake young man, in letting that... person in your life. He will drag you off the Path." Patrick wanted to scream at him to leave his family alone, but he found he didn't have the strength anymore. He didn't want to spend any more time arguing with this bigot. He sighed. "You know what father? I'm going to pray for you and hope you eventually find God's love. Now go home." The ram huffed as if what Patrick had said was an insult, turned and left. Patrick didn't watch him go he went back in and gently closed the door behind himself. He took his seat at the table and joined the others in the loud silence. When his mother spoke he voice was tentative. "Patrick I swear I didn't know he was coming here." "I know, mom. I'm guessing Old Dame Lambert saw we had guests and reported it to him." They were silent for a moment again. Then she placed a hand on Donald's and Daniel's. "I am truly sorry you had to be subjected to such hate." She took a breath. "I don't know how I feel about you living in..." she stopped herself. "About you being gay, but I know you're a good person, and that you wouldn't do anything to hurt Patrick, our son." Daniel nodded. Donald sighed. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I shouldn't have let him get to me like that." His mother smiled. "Well, I have to say it wasn't entirely unexpected. Patrick does have your temper." That made them chuckle, and they set about continuing the meal.
  12. Kindar

    Chapter 37

    The Missing Son 37 Patrick leaned against the wall and watched his mother work. He couldn't help chuckling. He'd never seen his mom put so much effort in a meal. He'd gotten up at ten to the sound of her cleaning the house, and the moment he stepped out of his bedroom she gave him a list of ingredients to go buy. When he'd come back she had her cooking gloves and apron on and she set to work. He'd offered to help, but other than peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables she wouldn't let him in the kitchen. He'd watched her make bread, and a cake. He wasn't sure if that was the last time his mother had baked, but he had a memory from when he was six or seven. It was Christmas, for some reason she didn't work that day. They had spent the day making bread, cookies and cakes. He'd helped as best as he could, even improvising gloves to avoid leaving fur in the bread dough. He smiled at the memory. "Patrick, can you make sure the bowls and plates are clean?" "Sure thing mom." He knew they were, since he'd been the one to do the dishes last night, but he washed everything again, both to please her and to have something to do. After drying them he set the table. A moment later his mother sat down. "All done. The roast is resting, the bread is going to be ready in twenty minutes. the soup is..." "Mom, I know, I watched you do all of it." "I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed cooking." "Well, you should try to do more." She shook her head. "No, tonight is a special occasion. I can't afford to take the time off to cook." She smiled at him. "Once I retire. I finally have a retirement plan that will let me do that." Patrick considered things for a moment. "You know. with the odd jobs I've been picking up in Richard's neighborhood, we probably have enough money for you to quit the waitressing job." She placed a hand over his. "No Patrick, that's your money. We can split the groceries and bill, but it's your money. " "Mom, I can..." "No, Patrick. What these last few weeks have made me realize is that you are an adult now. You need to have your own things, that means your own money so you can buy things you want." Want? He didn't want anything that required money, did he? "Now, go change into something more presentable." He looked at what he was wearing, jeans and is wife beater. "This is fine." "Patrick, we are having guests, put your church shirt on." She stood and headed to her room. It was his fathers, not the president that was coming over. Still, he went to his room and pulled out the shirt he wore when he went to church, then looked at his jeans. They were faded in places and almost worn through in others. He probably had a pair in better condition. He found one, a black pair that wasn't quite as worn. Dressed he headed back to the kitchen. As the timer beeped his mother came out wearing her best dress, a gray and gold summer dress that went down to her knees. He almost commented, and would have made a fool of himself, but there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," he said. He opened the door and his greeting died on his lips. His fathers were standing before him, wearing brown slacks. One had a black shirt on, the other an orange one. "Hi Patrick," one of them, in the black shirt, said. Patrick shook his head. "Sorry, you're wearing different colors." "It was Danny's idea," Donald said, nodding to his brother in the black shirt. "I thought it might make things easier on your mother." "I'm sure it will, come on in." "We weren't sure what we'd eat," Donald said, showing the bottle he was holding. "So we brought a bottle of red and one of white." Daniel raised his bottle. "Thanks." Patrick took the bottles and eyed them suspiciously. "Don't worry," Daniel whispered. "They aren't expensive." They took the few steps taking them to the kitchen. His mother was fidgeting next to the table. "Mom, you remember Daniel and Donald," he said, indicating them, and then placing the bottles on the counter. "Yes," she replied, "welcome to our home." She hesitated before offering her hand. Daniel took it. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Margarette." "Yes, it is," Donald said when he shook her hand, although he didn't sound as enthusiastic as his brother. "Please, have a seat." She indicated the table. "Patrick, you too." "I can help serve the food." "Go sit down, I'll take care of that." She took the bottle from him. "I'm afraid we don't have wine glasses, I hope normal ones will do." "That'll be fine," Donald replied. Patrick took a can of orange soda out of the fridge before sitting down. His mother place an empty glass before him and then glasses half full with red wine before Daniel and Donald and her place. She collected the bowls and filled them with soup. They ate in silence for a long moment. Patrick tried to find a way to break the uncomfortable silence, but it was Daniel who did it. "Where do you work, Margarette?" "I work at Olympic Mattress, it's a mattress factory. I'm a team supervisor. I also work at a diner a few blocks away." "Two jobs?" Donald said. "That can't be easy." "It can get tiring, but we do what we have to. Actually, today I should have..." she paused, then shook her head. "That isn't important. But that might chance soon, I decided to apply to the position of floor supervisor when it opens." Patrick looked up. "Really? I didn't know that." "I'm not sure when it will happen," She said, "and I can't be certain I'll get it, but I want to try." "That's great, mom." "I hope you get it," Donald said, raising his glass to her. "What does being a team supervisor entails?" Daniel asked. "It mostly mean I make sure my team works efficiently, if one of them had a problem I help them resolve it. But me and the other supervisor have started polling everyone for ideas on how to improve the work flow. We take an hour every week to refine our choices, and at the end of the month we present the best one to management." "Are they receptive?" Donald asked, "Very much so. Last month we suggested a new layout for the sewing machines that will help the flow of production. When we came back after that weekend, a quarter of the floor had been rearranged, and two teams are working on it." Donald finished his soup. "Why didn't they do all of them?" "The layout isn't proven, so they don't want to risk disrupting the entire production. They are going to leave it like this for six month, to give everyone on that line the time to get used to it, then they are going to compare it to the rest of the floor." She took the bowls away and brought the roast to the table. She offered the knife to Donald, and he sliced it while she place the salad on the table and cut the bread. "That's really impressive," Daniel commented. "Me and Donny aren't exactly team players." "What do you do?" she asked. "We're computer game designers." "And you do well?" "Well enough," Donald said. "They made Castle Crash," Patrick said. His mother's eyes grew wide. "To be honest," Daniel said, "it hit it big after we sold it. And it would never have become as successful if we'd kept it. We don't do a lot of marketing." "Or try to gouge the player base," Donald grumbled. "What do you mean?" Patrick asked. Daniel finished his piece of roast. "The company we sold it to made it so a lot of the big bonus can only be bought with cash, instead of earned through play. That isn't the way we do things, but I have to give them this, the controversy did have everyone talking about it for a while." Margarette buttered her bread. "don't you have to work with others to make games?" "Not really," Donald said. "Sometime we have to hire someone for part of the game, like the music, but they are working for us, not with us." Daniel took over. "Our current game has us working more closely with others because we've been hired to make it for a new game system, so there's a lot of conversation, but even that isn't really working with a team. We do our part, test it with the system. If it doesn't work they decide if they want to adjust the system or the game." Donald looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I think the last time we worked as part of a team was in high school." Daniel nodded. "Our senior year, chemistry." "Right. We were teamed up with... That wolf guy, the one who was on the baseball team, and this cow, I think. Anyway, yeah, that was a disaster." "What happened?" Patrick asked. "The project was about demonstrating an exothermic reaction." "So, being the down to earth, dependable teens that we were," Daniel continued, "we decided to make a fertilizer bomb." "You what?" Margarette exclaimed. "Just a small one." Donald nodded. "And the ingredients weren't in a sealed container, they were on a board so we figured there wasn't going to be a 'bang'." "Because of that I'm guessing there was one," Patrick said. "It was more of a loud 'paf'," Daniel said. "A lot of smoke and heat." "And singed fur, don't forget that." Donald chuckled. "Danny was the one who lit it so he was right next to it when it went off. He ended up on his ass." "Did you get hurt?" Margarette asked. "No, just my fur that got singed. for about two months my face fur was uneven. Donny was the one really troubled by it." "Why?" "We're twins. We've always looked alike, and for the first-time people could tell us apart easily. I wanted to shave my fur to match him, but dad wouldn't let me. I think that was the only time I was really angry at him." "He knew you wouldn't be able to do it." "I know, but I was still pissed at him." Margarette nodded. "It isn't always easy to do what we think is the best for our children," she said thoughtfully. Daniel raised his glass. "Amen to that." Donald joined it. "Very much so." Margarette looked at them surprised before lifting her glass. They looked at Patrick. who chuckled and raised his own. "How about I get back to you in twenty years or so." He drained his glass. "Do you want more?" he pointed at the empty glasses. "Who's driving?" Donald asked. "I will, go ahead. I'll have water." "Mom?" "Sure, why not. I have the afternoon shift tomorrow." He filled both the glasses halfway, then rinsed Daniel's and filled it with water from the fridge. he got himself another soda. Margarette got praises for the food, and the banana walnut cake impressed Donald so much he asked for the recipe. They talked for a while after they were done eating, until Margarette let out a yawn, which spread to everyone else. Donald and Daniel stood to leave, and Margarette called to them. "Patrick told me that you've invited him to celebrate his birthday at your house." "We'd like for both of you to come," Daniel replied. "Who is going to be there?" They looked at each other. Donald was the one who spoke. "Well, the kids invite their friends, and the parents come too." "How many people are we talking about?" "Possibly close to seventy-five." "And what will be happening?" "we have a pool, so swimming, talking, someone usually starts a volley ball game. If the weather isn't on our side we'll be inside. we have a few game consoles." Margarette nodded. "Alright, We'll think about it." Donald nodded. "That's all we can ask for." Patrick escorted them outside, where they hugged. Patrick found he didn't want to let go of them, holding both close to him and breathing in their scents. They kept their arms around him, and he stayed like that until he started to feel aroused. He let go of them. "No matter what my mom decides, I'll be there." "We're looking forward to it." They turned to leave. "You two drive safely." "No worries there," Donald replied. "Slow-mo here is the one driving." "You had that extra glass of wine, now you pay the price." his brother said. Patrick smiled and watched them walk away. He watched their ass and tails until they got in their car. He stayed outside for a time to give his heart time to settle before going in. "Mom," he said, entering the kitchen, "go to bed, I'll clean up." She put plates in the sink. "It's okay. I can take care of this." "Mom, you spent the day cooking. It's my turn. Go to bed." "Are you sure?" "I am." He hugged his mother. "Thank you for doing this. I love you mom." "I love you too Patrick."
  13. Kindar

    Chapter 36

    The Missing Son 36 Patrick didn't go directly to his mother's house. She wouldn't be home until five thirty, and he didn't want to be there alone. He walked the neighborhood, nodding to the people he saw. He had no doubt the old rhino would call his mom, she was always poking her nose into other people's business, but for once he didn't care. Mister Omaka was watering his roses and they talked for a bit. The ocelot had worried something had happened to Patrick, and he explained about the fight with his mother and staying at a friend's place. Patrick promised he'd let him know how the talk with his mother went. At five forty-five he headed back. His mother would be waiting for him and it would be unfair to let her worry needlessly. The door opened with its usual creaking. "Patrick?" his mother called. "Yeah, it's me." He put his jacket in the closet before heading to the kitchen. He stopped in the opening, she wasn't alone at the table, an older ram was seated across the table from her. "Hello Patrick," Father Durony said. "Would you take a seat?" Patrick didn't move. "Why are you here?" "I am here because your mother asked me to come." What was his mother doing involving the priest in this? He looked at her, but she was looking at the table. "She explained the argument that lead to you walking out." "Yeah, so?" "Please Patrick, sit down." Patrick didn't move immediately. He wanted to yell at his mother, this was a private matter, but that wouldn't help anything, specially not before father Durony. He took the closest chair and sat down. The ram looked at him, one eye was going cloudy. "Patrick, I want you to know that I'm not here to pursue any agenda. Your mother told me that she opposes you seeing your father, and I told her she was wrong." Patrick couldn't stop his ears from moving forward. "I would never advocate for a son to be kept away from his father unless there were safety issues." His mother opened her mouth, but the ram raised a hand. "Margarette, you agreed to let me talk." She looked at the table again. Father Durony looked at Patrick again. "Now, your mother has some concerns. Is it true that your father lives in sin?" Patrick considered going into details about what he knew his fathers got up to with his brothers. It might be good to see the old ram shocked, it might even send him off screaming. But the priest was being reasonable, for now. "He's gay, he and his husband are raising their kids." He kept things vague. He doubted his mother had given details. "She said you have visited them." "A few times now." "Have they done anything to you?" What was he talking about? "Have they tried to touch you inappropriately?" Patrick laughed at the old ram. "Of course not." "Patrick, please, this is serious." Patrick got his laughter under control. If only this priest had an inkling of how well behaved his family had been with him. "No, they have not done anything inappropriate. They are good people, and my brothers are pretty fun to hang out with." "That's a relief. And your brothers, are they... normal?" It was with some effort that Patrick kept his features neutral. "Normal?" "You know." "How the Hell," Sorry, "would I know that?" "You must have talked about it with them." Like there was any chance Patrick was going to discuss that with him. "Maybe you go about asking your family members about their sexual preferences, father, but I don't. I've gone swimming with them, I've played cards, and we've talked about life. And just so you know, if they had told me about their sex life, I wouldn't tell you." "Patrick, I'm asking out of concern." Patrick barely stopped the snort. "I don't care. I don't see them coming here to go to church, so that isn't any of your business." Father Durony raised his hands. "Alright. You are right, they aren't my parishioners. That is between them and their priests." He folded his hands before him. "Is it true they claimed that you are gay?" "They did." Patrick prepared himself for the next question. "And are you?" "No," he lied. The ram peered into his eyes and Patrick maintain the gaze. "Good," the priest said. "I'm proud of you for resisting temptation." It was a good thing his hands were out of view because they clenched. Resisting temptation? The ram smiled. "I'm happy to say that you have my blessing to continue seeing your father." His blessing? Like Patrick needed that. Just who the Hell (sorry) did he think he was? "And hopefully, with your guidance you can help him see the error of his ways, and guide him back on the Path." The ram stood. "I will leave the two of you to continue talking." With all his self-control Patrick stood without shoving the table out of his way. He hoped the priest wasn't going to say anything more because Patrick was inches from throwing him out of the house. Instead he escorted him to the door. "God be with you," the priest said and he stepped outside. Patrick forced the words out. "And He with you, father." Patrick was certain now he didn't want to have anything to do with Father Durony and his church. he closed the door and went to the bathroom. He rubbed water in his face. He needed to calm down. he couldn't let loose the anger the priest had stirred on his mother. He toweled his face dry and went back to the kitchen, taking the chair father Durony vacated. Patrick sat down opposite his mother. He waited of a moment in case she had something to say. When she didn't he did. "I want to make something clear, mom. I'm done tolerating your narrow-minded point of view." She looked up. "What does that mean?" "It means I don't want to hear anything about this sin bullshit." Her eye went wide. "Patrick, they..." "Stop." "Patrick." "I'm warning you mom, stop." They were both silent for a long time. "If you expect me to like him because he's your father, Well I don't." "Mom, you don't even know them." "I know all I need to know." She crossed her arms over her chest. "How can you? all you know about them is that they're gay." "That's enough. I could never like someone like that." The statement hurt enough that he almost told her he was gay, but he stopped himself. He wasn't ready for that argument. "Fine, then I'm out of here." "What?" "What do you want me to do mom? I told you, I'm not dealing with this anymore. You want to be some intolerant woman, fine, you be that, but I have no interest in being around someone like that." "I'm not..." "Bullshit. You hate my dad because he doesn't fit your narrow definition of perfection. one thing that you've decided is a sin, and he isn't fit to be around. Well, let me point out something. You lie, and lying is a sin, and if I remember my bible correctly it's actually mentioned in the ten commandment, While being gay isn't. So you tell me who between you and them are in deeper shit." "Patrick, I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm trying to protect you, don't you see that?" "I'm not a child anymore mom. I don't need your protection." He stood. "And to make it clear. They are not the reason I'm leaving this house. You are." He turned to head out of the kitchen. "Patrick, don't go." He turned and looked at her. "Please. Don't abandon me." "Why should I stay mom? so I can listen to more of your intolerant bullshit about people you're not even willing to get to know?" She winced. "Please Patrick, I'll try." "Try what?" "I'll try to get to know them, somehow. Just stay." Patrick sat back down. "Are you serious?" She nodded. "Alright. Then lets invite them to dinner." "What? we can't do that?" "Why not?" "They're..." she shut her mouth before Patrick could say anything. "Mom, they are my father. If you want to be part of my family, that means you're going to have to interact with them. If all you can do is explode anytime they are around, I'm not going to be around. You need to realize that, and you need to decide what you're willing to do about it, because I've made my decision." She nodded. "Patrick, do you have any idea what you're asking?" "yes, that you stop seeing them as this one thing and start seeing them as people. Mom, by inviting them here, we're in control of the environment. This is your house. They will respect that, I will make sure of it." She looked around the kitchen. "This place is a mess. What are we going to cook? I can't afford the kind of food they're used to." "Then we make them our kind of food. I'll pitch in so we have enough for four." She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes. "When do you want to do it?" "Soon. Friday would give us the rest of the week to prepare." She shook her head. "I work Friday, I can't have anything done in just an hour. but I can take Saturday off. I'll owe Beatrice a shift, but I can manage that. That's going to give me the day to clean this place and prepare the meal." "Alright." "If I do this, you're going to stay?" Patrick took his mother's hands in his. "Mom, I want this to happen because I want to stay here." Her smile was uncertain, but it was there.
  14. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 7

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

    This hut is a canoodling-free zone.
  15. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 6

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  16. Shinkei-Shinto

    Rosie Strawberry CLIP Reference 2018

    From the album: Personal Art

    Kaylie's girlfriend who I upd8'd for a friend!!!
  17. Shinkei-Shinto

    Kaylie CLIP Reference 2018

    From the album: Personal Art

    Oh lord this 8+ year old gay dog character is on the internet now
  18. Stripes Waterkat

    Stripes & Purrbaggins - Quicky

    From the album: Furry/Nightcrawler

    When visiting this gorgeous cat one morning, she was running behind and only had time for some quick fun, so we got right to it. Best way to start the day.
  19. Kindar

    Chapter 28

    The Missing Son 28 "How did it go?" Patrick asked once the door closed. He checked on the meatloaf, it would be done in a few minutes. His mother didn't answer immediately. He heard her take off her shoes before she came into the kitchen carrying her suitcase. The smile she gave him was hesitant. "I passed the course." She sat down. "You don't sound as happy about it as I thought you would." "I am." She forced her smile larger. "It's just. They already promoted me and four others to team supervisors. I'm just stunned and a bit nervous. I got the news when the bus dropped us off at the factory." "You'll be great mom." Now her smile was genuine. "Thank you. I'm going to be on probation for three months, after that they'll decide if I'm staying there or going back to the floor. Regardless, I'm getting a fifty-cent raise. If I become a supervisor permanently, it'll be another dollar and a half." "Two bucks an hour?" Patrick sat down. An extra eighty dollars a week could mean much better food, not going hungry as much. "Yes. With that, you wouldn't have to worry about working at the junkyard." Patrick hadn't thought of that. "Or you could slow down at the diner." "I suppose. You know I don't really like you working there, there are so many chances you could get hurt." "Mom, we're careful, and I like working there. I probably would even if Joey didn't pay me, so focus on yourself. It's your money, try to make your life a little better." She nodded. "Or we could continue as we are and improve things over all. Get us some news clothes, buy fresher food. We could get you your own phone." Patrick almost stammered. "Ahh, mom, don't." "Why not? you shouldn't have to rely on mine all the time." "I'm used to it. I'm fine. I really don't need one. I mean, really, you don't have to leave it at home. I don't spend that much time here, and my friends don't really bother calling me." "I don't know. I'd feel a little better if you had one." Patrick went to the oven to prevent himself from fidgeting. What was he going to do if she just bought him a phone? He couldn't stop her from doing that, it was her money. The meatloaf was done. "I'll buy one." The words were out of his mouth as the thought struck. He put the loaf on the stove and put the sheet of foil over it. "I can do that," she said, "I don't want you worrying about bills." Patrick already spent most of his time worrying about them, but he didn't tell her that. "I know, but if it's going to be my phone, I should be the one buying it, and I should buy my own plan." "Patrick, that's forty-five dollars. It's half that if I just add you to mine." "I know, but I'm eighteen. I think it's time I start having bills of my own." He tried to be casual about it. he had to convince her to let him do that. He didn't want to have her spend money on a phone he'd never use. She couldn't afford to waste that money. When he turned to put plates on the table she was looking at him, beaming. "Oh, I get it now." Patrick almost dropped the plates. "Wh... what? I just mean..." Her smile became brighter. "I know what you mean. Come on Patrick, I'm your mother I know how you think." Patrick put the plates on the table, because he knew he was going to drop them if he didn't. What had he let slip? She couldn't know about his phone. Had one of the neighbors noticed Albert dropping him off and told her? They couldn't have, it had been really late, and she wouldn't be smiling if they had. She almost laughed. "Patrick, it's okay. I get it, you don't want me to find out about the girls you're calling." The who? She thought? He almost told her that wasn't what he meant at all. His mouth was open, but he stopped the words form coming out. "You're right," she said, not quite stiffing the laugh this time. "You're old enough to have your own phone and not have to worry about me figuring out if you're seeing someone. My worry is if you're going to be able to afford it." He had to get his brain to work again. He couldn't just stare at her. "I... err... yes, I can. I mean, I wouldn't give you as much as before since I'd be using part of it to pay for the phone, but I can probably get more work at the junkyard to make up the difference." He closed his mouth to stop the babbling. He was probably going to reveal everything if he kept talking. He busied himself with setting the table. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you," she said as he put the meatloaf on the table. "That's not it," he replied. he had control of his voice now, and his mind. "I just didn't realize you knew." The lie tasted like ash. His tongue was dry. he drank two glass of water and it didn't help much. She put a hand over his. "Patrick, it's okay. I'm not going to be that mother who needs to know everything you do, but if you ever feel like introducing one of them to me..." she left the offer hang there. Patrick nodded. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. he didn't think he'd be able to get another lie to pass his lips.
  20. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 4

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  21. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 5

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  22. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 3

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  23. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 2

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  24. Mab

    Nebu: Origins - Page 1

    From the album: Nebu : Origins

  25. Alacardkane

    Star over the Mountain

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