#Furry Bastard || Self

[yourlocalabomination]

The Lang brothers really said: “The Cosmic God of Time and Space, a Eldritch Horror who is fuelled by tormenting people - a being capable of driving his lessers into insanity within seconds and able to trap them into a torturous eternity………is a furry”.

And as iconic as that is….huh?

[victorianvivisection]

Old rust 🕰️

[ladydelena]

Tamlin: N-SFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Doting. Teasing. Lazily caressing your abdomen. Stroking your hair, giving you time to breathe but not fully come down from a high before he’s taunting you with trailed kisses, stealing your breath with his touch and intimate words… he knows what he's doing. When you're finally spent, he takes the time to make sure you're clean and comfortable before drifting off to sleep together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Tam is proud of his overall physique and he likes to keep his body well honed. It’s an instrument of war and pleasure, and he’s good at both. A single body part though? His hands. He likes his skills with his sword, fiddle, and you, and his hands have mastered them all. 

On you? Your curves. The softness of your body, the plush of your arms, your breasts, your belly, hips, and thighs, he melts internally at the sight of you and he always wants to hold you and be held by you because of it. Now a single thing? It has to be your cute face and cheeks. The way they dimple a bit unevenly when you smile, and flush when you get cold easily, or get flustered… 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

No apprehension, no shame, you both end up a mess when you share in each other. You’re filled with him, all you can taste is each other, you’re both panting hot messes. Noone knows what happened but it was great. 100/10. Would do it again.

Also, see below in dirty secret.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not dirty, but also not common knowledge, Tam really doesn’t have too many sexual barriers, ever more so than normal fae. Not only is he open to any gender, he’s not closed off from receiving any pleasure as well. He likes knowing how to please in return so he’s shifted into different genders and species and explored everything there is to explore and he knows how to provide. 

He likes when you play with him in his beastie body too. You like when beastie Tam finishes all over you.

I have no shame.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Extremely experienced. And not just in the number of partners, but in being able to learn what they like and put it to good use. It's not just physical, it’s mental and emotional experience too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I want to say good old traditional missionary because I have a feeling he likes relentlessly driving into you while still being able to look deep into your soul… he’s kind of intense like that, buuuuut-

Doggy. Standing, kneeling, bent over the table, let me just say he shows his affection and love for you all the time, but in this? He really, reallllllyyyy loves claiming you, breeding you, making you his, just absolutely burying himself in you.

(And you like taking it like the submissive breedable good pet that you are…)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In general he's not goofy, but a lot of the time he’s a bit rakish and mischievous with how he teases you. He knows how to make you a whimpering mess and it gives him a great big, shit-eatting-grin to see how well he can make you putty in his hands. The Bastard. Love him though. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed down there, nothing too neat or too crazy, but the rest of him? Well he’s a little furry beast after all. The male has soft pillowy chest hair, arm hair, and a little happy trail that is slightly darker than the sun-kissed blonde the rest of the world sees. As I seem to recall, he's rather fond of you taking a trip down that very trail… the path less traveled, I suppose, though you frequent it often, I’m sure.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

How do I say this… Tamlin has a certain way of always spiking a bit of adrenaline in you. He has the butterflies in your stomach going wild with anticipation. In the morning before the sun fully rises, at night when the bed beacons to both of you, in the moonlit courtyard or glowing yellow fields of his court, he makes it feel like you are newly together with his desire for you. He has beastly tendencies that make you shudder with anticipation but at the same time he is so gentle with his touches and kisses, so loving with his words , and he's not scared of intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s not shy about his sexual appetite but once he has a partner he loves, he doesn't really need solo time that often. He has a fairly active sex life with you and had no shortage of lovers before. That being said, if you're tired or not in the mood and he is, he’s not pressuring you. Once he makes sure you're attended to and well taken care of he doesn't mind taking care of his needs and doesn't make you feel guilty about it at all.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ho boy. Our beastly princely High Lord. Tamlin was not written for the modest mind. The Calanmai firenight fae orgy doesn't begin to cover what he's capable of or into. And while he doesn’t mind an audience, I’d say that Tamlin’s insatiable appetite is laser focused on you. He's not bound by human morals or constructs. Hell, he's not even bound by the physical limitations of his (well-endowed) male body. He thoroughly enjoys being a pleasure dom- and that coupled with his beastly aura, his endless fae stamina, and the unlimited forms he can take as a shapeshifter? Ho boy. He can match your freak. Dare I say surpass what you thought possible as well.

Additional thought here- he likes the fluidity of his shifting. I think he might be a bit restrained at first with a partner, but when comfortable, he sort of exists somewhere between fae and beast. His senses are heightened, his pleasure and need to breed and please you in return is more primal. He likes biting and nipping, he likes running his claws down you and mixing aches with pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Though your sleeping chambers see the most frequent use, Tamlin is a son of Spring, and he truly sees to it that you, ahem, blossom, out in the open air, in the fields and forests of his court. Honorable mention to the many closet doors and hidden rooms that had been willing third parties in your lust driven frenzied moments between meetings and courtly duties.

(not sure if this should be under kink, but he likes to hunt you through his forests and claim you when he finally gets his hands… or paws… on you. Like I said, not made for modest minds.)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He doesn't dress up often, and mostly exists in his practical clothing, but seeing you dressed up (or dressed down), and radiant, it really does something to him. He loves that you feel safe and comfortable enough to be free; a soft flowing dress that hints at your curves, your hair unbound and cheeks flushed from the brisk spring air, he goes feral over your softness and warmth. It's the same at night or when you're dressed down to do things like read a book or craft. He has the instinct of a provider, and seeing you comfortable and relaxed, seeing you happy and warm and inviting, it makes him feel not only emotionally secure, but physically makes him want to hold you, care for you, love you. (And well, you know where that tends to lead with our Tam.) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. He’s definitely into mixing pain and pleasure, but when it comes to how he speaks to you, putting you down or degrading you is a hard no. He doesn’t like being spoken to that way either. Teasing and taunting? Sure. But he prefers a relationship void of this at all.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This. Male. Lives. Between. Thighs. 

He needs the taste of you like he needs to breathe.

It’s not performative. He genuinely craves you, and he’s not squeamish or shy about any of the body’s natural scents or functions. 

Tamlin likes when you take time to pleasure him as well, and it's normally when you both are having a lazy day where nothing is rushed, but he is a giver, and he doesn't rush your pleasure. He knows how to draw you to your edge, how to leave you wanting, how to make your body sing and push you over the edge again and again. He doesn’t care when or where, anytime is fair game when it comes to laying you down and moving your skirts out of the way so he can feast.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Everything. He’s everything. But in general, there's a feral edge that drives him to go at a medium but brutal pace. He’s making sure you feel him in every nerve of your body, each thrust threatening to push you over the edge and leave you breathless.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not against them. 

He prefers to have enough time for you two to fully enjoy each other, but with how busy courtly duties can be for both of you, quickies are not uncommon. It’s quite common actually to find yourself being pounded against a closet door, a hand twined in your hair, or bent over a private lunch table, a hand muffling your mouth as you try your hardest to not disturb the manors staff with your heated moments. He’s not the only insatiable beast in this relationship.

Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. As long as your overall safety is not at risk, all else is fair game. Tam is definitely open to trying new things, he’s not much for traditional boundaries when it comes to how you two experience and share pleasure.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Multiple rounds. He takes his time and lasts quite a while before finding his release, often making sure you're thoroughly sated before joining in on the fun. Sometimes it's only a breath before you continue, sometimes it can be an hour of loving caresses and being content in each other's presence before continuing, but he can go all night. And trust me when i say, he’s got stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are not entirely common especially in the beginning, but Tam is definitely open to them. The reason that you guys don't exactly have them until later on in the relationship is just because Tams magic itself and shapeshifting are both very present when you two are together. Who needs leather straps when vines have you bound and displayed like a piece of art? 

(I’m sorry to say my mind is filthy but who needs a helping hand… or appendage… when he can literally dual wield himself by shapeshifting??)

It would be unfair to compare his purring to a vib… anyways.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is EXTREMELY unfair sometimes, but he delivers in the end. He doesn't bring you to the edge just to not help you over. But he has centuries of experience in honing his love of pleasure, this male knows when you’re urgently needy, and if he’s in a particularly roguish mood? Everything is slow, and teasing, and lazily sensual until you’re aching with need and he still wants to hear you panting and babbling before he delivers your release.

Would you put yourself through the torture again? duh.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh boy, he's a growly one. He’s not shy about his sounds and it’s great. The deep husky command in his voice, the panting as your bodies move as one, the growls of desire and dominance, the whimpers of pleasure when he surrenders control, the hurried words of praise and love, and even the hoarse moans- he’s not shy about his sounds. It drives you mad with how much you want to hear more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to be babied and cared for. Like being a beastie boy is all good, but he truly likes to be pet and brushed when he's in his other form. He likes being held and snuggled. In his fae form he loves when you sit in his lap in a non sexual way and have your face buried in his neck. He loves the intimacy you share, just holding each other and reading or watching the sun rise under the open sky. 

If the wild card is a sexual thing, it might be surprising , but he truly has an artistic soul, even when it comes to intimacy. The way he weaves your bodies together and makes you feel, he has the heart and soul of an artist despite his role in his court  and you feel it in every moment you share with him.

*I think he likes when you take control sometimes too. Ride him like your life depends on it and tell him he’s a good boy when he’s close okay? He’s a good boy!* 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lord. High Lord that is. He’s sinfully, lustfully crafted by the mother herself. Even in his fae form, there's a primal buzz to the air about him. His hard toned body that even a glimpse at when he's fully dressed has you thinking of the feel of him pressed against you… yeah.

Tamlin is one of the bigger males you’ve seen, he has that rakish glint in his eye that is at odds with his respectful presence. A princely air about him that is at odds with the animalistic tilt of his head and gate of his step. That damn soft mouth of his that often pulls on the pointed edge of his canines…

I need air.

Tamlin has these masculine but elegant hands, they’re large and rough from his fighting and swordsmanship, but elegantly shaped and veined, and artistic as well. And his body? It doesn't matter how long you’ve been with him, any glimpse sends your blood boiling.

If we’re talking about certain parts, though, he's thick. Long enough to please you, but thick enough to have you buzzing with anticipation- Every. Time. and that's before the shapeshifting games begin. How many different species are there in Prythian? That's a whole lot of schlongs to have fun with. 

(I’m sorry. no I’m not)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is high. Multiple times throughout the day, and it’s never lacking, he always shows up both emotionally and physically. Sometimes though, it catches you off guard. A gentle touch, a lingering stare, and you can feel the heat building in your cheeks, the shallowness of your breath. You drive him mad with need, and the effect he has on you is unparalleled. You yearn for him deeply and thoroughly as well. 

It’s nice, by the way, he finally feels loved and chosen by you, and you feel the same- wanted by him. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly. Tamlin is actually a relatively light, sometimes restless sleeper and will wake at the smallest sound, though it's hard to gauge when he’s actually awake or asleep. He’s good at checking in through the night to monitor your surroundings but he never moves or makes sounds in an effort to not wake you up. 

He’s better than he used to be, though the restlessness from his past hardships still sometimes trouble him. Since meeting you though, his nights have been more peaceful and he can often get through the entire night without waking, thanks to the conversations and real tough realities you've worked through with him- it was a non-negotiable on your end in order for you to accept his courtship, and he was willing to face his demons for a chance to be yours.

_________

Edit: honorable mention that I could see him being in a bite-y mood and just….

[wardback]

Can we talk about Ted Spankoffski and how he is such an incredibly well written character??

Ted Spankoffski who chose to be a sleezeball after the love of his life chose someone else because thats the kind of guy he thought she wanted

Ted Spankoffski who accidentally killed that love of his life but doesn't know yet

Ted Spankoffski who walks past his future self whos insane and homeless and he doesn't know

Ted Spankoffski who years later is still scared of LumberAxe

Ted Spankoffski who loves his brother so much that he lashes out at his co worker for trying to save his daughter when he knows his own brother is dead

Ted Spankoffski who is in love with charlotte but she wont leave her dick of a husband

Ted Spankoffski who became a furry at the chance to get fucked

Ted Spankoffski who always dies

Ted Spankoffski who is doomed by the narrative

Ted Spankoffski who will never escape the bastards box

[specterings]

thinking abt phillip graves meeting your Very Southern family. this is sooo self indulgent. GN!reader, only pronouns used are ‘you’.

he thought he was southern, ‘white-as-cornbread, bled-red-white-and-blue’ southern, but it has nothing when you’re driving down dirt roads and backroads deep into the country side and he thinks you’re bringing him out here to kill him.

pulling down the long, dirt-to-gravel drive way, signs like ‘BEWARE OF DOGS,’ ‘NO TRESPASSING - OR DO, WE NEED TARGET PRACTICE,’ ‘PROTECTED BY GOD AND BULLETS’ nailed onto trees only make him more nervous, pulling up to this lil farm styles house with dogs runnin amuck and your mama yellin that ‘you furry bastards got three seconds…’ before she sees your car and gives the most delighted laugh as she runs up before the cars even stopped, swooping you onto the sweetest hug.

then she sees philip, and her face morphs into an approving grin, but she smacks your chest and tells you you didn’t get your taste from your mama. she’s pulling phil into a hug, though, says what a handsome young man he is, asks how he found the drive, and she seems to approve of him even more when he says he found it quite alright, ma’am, and yall have such a lovely place out here.

charms the socks off yer mama, the dogs dont try to bite him even though the mixed up mutts yap and howl at him and wont let him pet them. he thinks hes clear until your dad comes rumbling up in his work truck, bright orange shirt with the meanest, scruffiest look on his face, with arms bigger than phillip’s head and hands build like baseball mits. the build of a man who’s been a father, not a soldier, and he sees what your ma was talking about.

the dogs run up to the man who tells ‘em to ‘git on somewhere’ even as he reaches down to pet them, and then hes standing eye to eye with graves and your boyfriends shitting bricks, honestly.

“deddy, this is my boyfriend, phil,” you chirp, smiling at your father, who pulls you into a hug and squeezes you tight. then his attention turns back to your boyfriend, whos sticking a hand out.

“nice to meet you, sir.” its quiet, but your dad grabs his hand a hair too rough and tight and squeezes as he shakes it.

“same t’ ya,” he gruffs, and from the grin on your face, phil assumes thats a good thing. “you met the other ‘ns?” and phil turns to see similarly rough and tumble brothers.

he just has to hoep you and your mama will stop them from puttin him in a ditch somewhere

[lozchi]

A little tiger?

A/N: first fic, edited, I don't think I could balance the length to separate it into chapters, so here ya go XD Decided to write for Hoon-ie after not getting enough fics of him. I read every possible fic in existence, so now I'm joining the rabbit hole. Pairing: Taehoon Seong x !F reader (Gender Neutral, actually. But it steers more towards a female reader.) Themes: Fluff, profane language, actual fluff

i am convinced this man wears eyeliner.

There were a few things that you came to agree on with Taehoon before you moved in together, in which he took the time to hash out the nitty-gritty details that would shape your lifestyle.

First things first, cleanliness was non-negotiable. Clean up after your own mess, get rid of those stinky socks on the coffee table, and don't you dare delay washing those dirty dishes. A fair share of chores is just as important. Fuck gender roles. That shit doesn't matter to Taehoon, neither to you. You embraced a fair distribution of chores, because who needs traditional gender norms cramping your style?

Communication was key to keeping your domestic life intact. You made it a rule to give each other a heads-up before inviting anyone over. Taehoon didn't want to be caught by your dad walking out of his room after he just woke up, walking around the place while he was shirtless, and you couldn't blame him. No free fanservice for your old man, sorry.

And then, there was the ultimate deal-breaker: absolutely, ABSOLUTELY no pets allowed. Sad, but necessary. You both recognized the responsibilities and potential burden that a furry friend could bring into your peaceful (chaotic mostly, thanks to your petty bickerings) haven. So, you made the tough call to keep your space pet-free, even though it meant missing out on endless cuteness.

These seemingly straightforward house rules were the backbone of your cohabitation. You can see where this is going at, just basic house rules you'd need to abide by. Easy peasy, right?

-

Dragging your exhausted self through the threshold, you fumbled with your keys, the metallic jingle filling the air as you struggled to unlock the door. With a half-hearted stretch and a lazy rub of your bleary eyes, you muttered curses under your breath. Fuck them. The sheer stupidity of your project groupmates. Ugh, seriously, could life get any more frustrating? But hey, that's fine since you have-

"You cute little shit. You're mine."

Are your ears lying to you? Is your menace of a boyfriend baby talking someone… Who's not you?!? To hear him speak so sweetly that he would never even bring himself to talk to you in the same way as he did just now. That's right, give him a piece of your mind.

Brows furrowing in frustration and jealousy, you'd speak up. You need to talk to him, he deserves a little lecture. As you walked inside your humble abode, you grumpily stomped your way to the bedroom.

"Taehoon Seong, What the f-"

Caught red-handed, Taehoon's eyes widened as he notices your enraged expression. In a panicked manner, he swiftly hurled a nearby blanket into a corner of the room, as if hoping to hide the evidence of his silly stunt. You'd rarely see such a horrified look on his usually stoic expression, Calling this pretty boy other than the stupid nicknames you give him feels so strangely threatening, almost like stepping into uncharted territory. Hello? He's "Hoon-ie", "Pretty Boy", "Sneaky Link", "Sexy Bastard"… Who the fuck is "Taehoon Seong"?

But before you could launch into a full-blown confrontation, a soft and unmistakable "Meow" reverberated through the air, breaking the awkward tension. Busted. Who would have ever thought that Taehoon, the seemingly more composed and level-headed one in the relationship, would dare to break the sacred "no pets" rule? It was unbelievable, mind-boggling, and to make matters worse, it wasn't even you who did this cheeky act. This left you momentarily stunned.

Now, off to berating your boyfriend.

"Oi, I thought we–"

"That was me."

"Didn't know that my man can meow like a harmless creature–"

"Shut the fuck up…"

An awkward silence fills the air for a moment, with you thinking about the act Taehoon pulled, while he starts contemplating whether or not he should break it. The tension was then interrupted by this "unwanted guest". Of course, the cat manages to escape from the blanket, heading its way towards you, its tiny paws padding across the floor.

You know that you can't stay mad, especially when Taehoon is being unusually soft – except that it's not being directed towards you. Your boyfriend is an immature dick of a tsundere, deal with it.

Leaning down to stroke the adorable creature that had stolen your boyfriend's heart, you couldn't help but be enthralled by its soft, velvety fur. Okay, let's admit it, the cat was undeniably cute, but that didn't mean you could suppress the pangs of jealousy that surged within you as Taehoon showered the little feline with affection.

"Why on earth didn't you give me a heads up about bringing this cute shit home? Seriously, you've broken not one, but two rules,"

You exclaimed, unable to hide your frustration.

He glanced at you, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes.

"I acted impulsively, and I'm sorry."

Is what you imagined he would say. After all, he should apologize for his thoughtless actions. But let's face it, again – your boyfriend had a knack for being a dick. Instead of the heartfelt apology you expected, all you received was a blank stare and a nonchalant shrug.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

You exclaimed, exasperatedly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out a weary sigh. Finally, he broke his silence, bringing an end to the internal debate he seemed to be having.

"I brought it home because it reminded me of you."

And that's a good thing right? He probably brought it home since the cat was cute, like you, right?

"Where did you even get this? Did you buy it, take it from an animal shelter, take it from the streets… Or did you steal this from someone?"

Too many questions, Taehoon is NOT willing to answer them. But he does anyway because you being an interrogative bitch needs to stop.

"Took it from the streets after I-"

Taehoon began, but you interrupted him, already familiar with the story.

"Lemme guess, another round of beating assholes up?"

You asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you gave him that annoying, knowing, AUDACIOUS smirk. It turns him on a little though, not that he'd admit that.

"They were hurting it."

So, instead of mindlessly beating the shit out of random thugs just for 500 won, he had actually stepped in to protect the defenseless creature? For once, Taehoon had an actual reason for his actions – okay, maybe not once – but it caused a surprising warmth to spread through your heart. You couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him. It was as if he genuinely wanted to provide a safe haven for the cat, and that realization melted away any lingering resentment.

You looked at Taehoon, noticing a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he gazed at the little feline. You could've sworn he looked so determined to keep the rascal. In that moment, your heart softened at the oddity of your dear menace.

"Okay, but for real, why did the cat remind you of me?"

Ugh, seriously. Stop with the questions. It's slightly pissing Taehoon off to the extent that he'd kick your ass (only lightly though, knowing full well that it'd rile you up anyway).

"Weak and helpless like you. Especially during training. At least sometimes. Most of the time."

If you expected a better answer than that, then prepare to be dissapointed. He's Taehoon Seong after all, you brought yourself into this.

"And in bed too-"

You send a series of aggressive smacks on his ass. His comment was a little uncalled for! Oh, come on, Taehoon!

"And cute. And cute! Stop it, bitch!"

He chuckled in amusement; those little hits would do little to no damage. And once you stopped, the both of you would look at the cat with another question in mind.

"What are you gonna name it?"

"Ratface."

"Disgusting. Let's go for it."

"Bitch, I was kidding."

"Hoon-ie Junior, then?"

"That's a shitty name."

"It stemmed from yours though-"

"Exactly."

"Meow~"

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Taehoon's naming skills were straight up shitty, and it was painfully obvious considering the ridiculous names he had come up with so far. Some were unnecessarily flamboyant, meant purely for sarcastic amusement, while others were downright horrendous. But let's face it, naming a cat after a character from Tekken would be a vast improvement compared to "Ratface." It had been ten fucking minutes, and neither you nor Taehoon had managed to think of a decent name yet.

"What about 'Hwoarang'?"

"Seriously? Haha, you're terrible at this."

You couldn't help but sneer at Taehoon, teasing him mercilessly as he futilely attempted to push your face away, only for you to playfully bring it even closer, peppering his face with kisses. Deep down, he wanted to do the same to you right now, but his entire focus was fixated on finding a proper name for the cat.

"Bitch, you're no better yourself,"

He retorted with a scoff, rolling his eyes in exasperation. I mean, who in their right mind would name something as sweet as this little feline "Tabasco"?

"Pocachip."

You suggested, realizing that both you and Taehoon were nowhere near finding a suitable name.

With a defeated sigh, Taehoon gave up, flopping down on the bed with the cat resting in his lap. It seemed better to leave the poor thing unnamed than to burden it with a ridiculous moniker. Naming could wait for now.

Ugh, if you ever considered having mini Taehoons then- whoops, too early for that.

But honestly, if you couldn't even come up with a name for a cat, how on earth would you manage to name your own children? Then again, it was too early to think about starting a family, and having kids wasn't currently an option on the table.

"I'll go out and buy some things for the cat."

Leaving again? You just got home. Not on your pretty boy's watch. Before you could make a move, Taehoon swiftly grabbed your wrist, his expression turning blank as he stared at you intently.

"I already took care of that."

He stated firmly.

This man was full of surprises. It was evident that he truly wanted to take care of the cat. Seeing Taehoon in this soft and caring state was unusual but endearing. If you got to witness this side of him every day, then you had no choice but to happily play the third wheel while he tended to the little kitten.

"You're really serious about this. Hah! I always knew you were a softy deep down~"

Bitch, you're teasing him so much. Stop poking his cheeks and shit, it's making him feel all giddy. He smacked your hand away, but you could have sworn to god you saw a faint pink tint on his usually pale complexion. Damn it, his fair skin made it difficult for him to hide the blush.

-

Minutes, hours then days pass by in a blur. Yet you and Taehoon are still no closer to giving the furball a decent name, not that the little stray needs one. The cat shall remain nameless for now, no big deal. Your life's still pretty much the same, at least a little.

Though there were times you felt a pang of jealousy creep over you as Taehoon would DELIBERATELY sweet talk the kitten just to get a reaction out of you. LOL! You have no idea how smug he feels whenever you pout or sulk in the corner of the room. He knows what he's doing, and once you caught on, he turned it down a little. Keyword: A little.

You thought caring for the adorable kitten while Taehoon was away for taekwondo practice would be easy-peasy-Taehoon-tease-me. But you were so wrong.

"Psspspspss kitty kitty!"

You call, desperately trying to gain the cat's affection. But to no avail. How does Taehoon make it look so effortless?

Every time you and Taehoon want some lovey-dovey time, that furry menace does everything to steal your man's attention. The lion, the witch, the audacity of this bitch. This goddamn motherfucker's gonna keep Taehoon all to itself.

"Cockblocker."

You sigh in frustration.

The furball has now wormed its way into your hearts. Yet giving it a name seems impossible. For now, the nameless stray shall remain…causing mischief and mayhem, one purr at a time.

"Hoon-ie, I have no idea how you get that little shit listen to you."

Other than Taehoon being the one to bring the cat home, is there really something else that would make the fluffball listen to him? Okay, he's intimidating, that's a plus. And it's the same reason as to why Hobin and Snapper would have to deal with his antics.

"My words are law."

"Not to me, they're not."

Taehoon chuckles. Oh, how could you be so stubborn? Accept the fact that this man will get anything he wants, no matter what sort of measures he'd take.

"I'm just better than you at everything else."

You gasped in mock offense, though deep down you knew that his statement was about 49.99% correct. But hey, at least you're better in making his heart pound of his chest. He gets all tingly and warm, ew, cringe. You make him feel so weak and you're not just better at it, you're the best.

"Huh? Wanna bet, pretty boy?!?"

Once you've started, know that you shouldn't back down. After all, you don't want to deal with Taehoon's teasing all week for such a petty argument.

"Alright, how about this - whoever can get the little shit to sit on their lap first wins."

Damn, this pretty boy loves you so much to the point he'll participate or even suggest bullshit.

"HAH! YOU'LL SEE."

You and Taehoon shoot challenging glances at each other as you call the cat, trying to lure it over with treats and toys. The furball pays you no heed and walks between the two of you, seemingly ignoring your bets and bickering.

"We really need a name for it."

And "Pocachip", "Tabasco", "Hoon-ie Jr." is not allowed. Taehoon starts to think whether or not you were hungry during thinking about those names. "Sh-"

"No."

[hitchyboi]

🦴Fleeting Bliss🦴

FINISHED VERSION, Again very sorry to those that saw it before I finished it XD Accident

Nubbins let's himself try a favorite pass time of his twin and it doesn't go so well

Content Warning: Drug Use, Self Harm, Descriptions of gore and violence. Unhealthy family dynamics. Unwell mental health. The usual Sawyer Family Fun

Word Count: 4, 433

Dust covered boots trudged themselves up the stairs of an old farm house. Wooden slates creaking under the added weight threatening to snap, once white paint chipped away and yellowed with age. Nubbins cursed and grumbled to himself as he ascended the steps on a path to his room. Once he shouldered the door open he tossed the ratted pillowcase he used as a sack to the ground. Filled with new treasures and finds that once brought excitement now served as a downer that left a bitter taste in his mouth and caused another wave of pain to surge from the yellowing bruise covering his temple, just over his eyebrow.

Words echoed over and over in his head of the recent beating and berating by his older brother. Hog bitch. Dumbass. Rat bastard. A lowly no good waste of space... Another curse and kick that sent his door closed and he made his way towards the rat eaten mattress in his corner of the room. Falling onto the abused material Nubbins finally felt a scolding trail fall from his eye and down his cheek. Inhaling quickly with an attempt to prevent more from following he pulled a ball of matted racoon fur he kept by his pillow close to his chest. Pressing his face into the fur and welcoming the familiar scent of hot tar and decay. It was a recent find on one of his hitchhiking sprees, the coons' corpse was still fresh when Nubbins found it though rigor mortis had already set in. Giving the animal a permanent position of laying on its side as if merely resting for a moment rather then forever. Nubbins could feel his cheeks burning, blood bubbling under his skin and threatening to break it wide open. Eyes burning and throbbing with hot tears he finally relinquished his hold on with none to see. Buying his face further into his furry friend's body, small bones twisting under the tight grip of his lanky fingers. Dry fur tickling his nose and mixing with his scruff serving as his only form of comfort in the silent house.

Why did it matter so much to Drayton if he visited the graveyard? He needed more supplies for some of the bigger projects he planned on crafting. Those beeves don't even need their bones no more! Or their skin! But Nubbins had many uses for them, they'd just rot away or fall apart if he didn't collect them. They'd just be useless... like him...

A yell ripped itself from his throat as the words grew louder in his head. Pulling his legs up towards his chest, trapping the coon even closer, he tried to hide from it all. Hide from the words, the whispers. The disappointment. The beatings. The eyes, the eyes, how he hated the eyes. Always staring and always glaring. Always looking down on him, belittling him like an ant to be squashed. He wanted to turn those eyes into ones of fear, despair. Eyes that were looking at a nightmare, wet and bloodshot from crying. But there were no eyes for him to change, no victim to mock and torture. Just himself.

A snapping sound pulled Nubbins out of his thoughts, looking down he saw the now severed jaw of his furry friend loose in his hand. "No! No.. no no.. why?" He gasped and sat up, desperately trying to piece the jaw back into place. The detached lip falling back to his lap with each try. The burning in his face returned but from rage this time as the critter kept refusing to listen. Why would the critter choose now of all times to leave him as well? Leave him just like Bobby did when Drayton has to drag his wily ass back home after the first test. Leave him like Sissy did when she decided California was more her taste then home. Why couldn't just one person just stay?! The coon husk was thrown to the other side of the room, hitting the rotted wall with a heavy thud before sliding down to the floor. No doubt breaking more brittle bones. Nubbins glared at the darkened spot on the wall as his fingers twitched and danced, arm still held out in front of his body.

Heated brown eyes slowly trailed from the spot to one of the posters hung up close by. The bright colors and complex images serving as a more pleasant distraction then the dead animal he'd just thrown to his brothers side of the room. That's right.... Bobby came back... he came back in the end. And so did Sissy... they didn't leave him forever. Furrowed eyebrows slowly relaxed as he let his arm drop back to his side, observing the different decorations his brother had added to his corner. His bed has became more a nest of pillows and blankets, the wall was lined almost completely with different band posters he had acquired along with the addition of little colorful lights strung up here and there. They weren't overly harsh as most lights were to Nubbins, they were softer almost like the stars sitting up in the sky. His gaze soon landed on the ashtray kept near his bed with a few pre-rolled joints Bobby had excitedly talked about sneaking past Cook earlier that week. Nubbins has seen Bobby and Sissy smoke together quite a few times now, it was one of their favorite pass times. Even before they had left. Mention that it helps them to relax and Nubbins always enjoyed how giggly they tended to get not long after.

Springing off his mattress Nubbins quickly closed in on his target and grabbed one of the joints, head whipping around to check the closed door. Nancy had called with the news some of Johnny's victims were being a handful and needed assistance. Ending a beating short Drayton has brought Sissy, Bobby and Bubba with him. Forcing Nubbins to keep his ass at home or worse was to come. That.... meant Nubbins has some time to himself until they came back... and he really wanted to feel that level of enjoyment and rest he'd seen on his siblings faces. He didn't want to rot in his mattress is pain until morning again... not when he had an option now. Grabbing a sticker covered lighter and plopping his ass back onto the mattress, he lit the blunt.

Lifting it towards his lips, Nubbins inhaled. Smoke invaded his senses and burned his throat, ripping hacks and wheezes from his chest. Nose wriggling at the burning taste as his body doubled over, Bobby and Sissy made it look so easy. A few coughs here and there sure but they barely reacted otherwise. He could already hear Bobby's cackle at his pathetic attempt, through laughs he'd slap his back in an effort to help alleviate the wracks just past his ribs. Boney knuckles rap against his own chest instead as he straightened himself out, ridding himself from the worst of the coughing fit. Tongue running over cracked lips Nubbins looked back down towards the joint, eyes hardening with determination at the insulting object. He was gonna have a moment... a moment to relax and feel as happy as his siblings did.

It took a few more attempts before Nubbins was able to pull a hit without hacking up a lung. Pushing past the assaulting burn in his throat, like ashes coating the inside and relighting with each intake of oxygen. The bitter and earthy taste on his tongue was near retch pulling at first but grew more tolerable and then Nubbins finally felt a lightness. Like a rush of blood towards his head but instead of pooling and causing mind numbing headaches, the rush didn't stop. Didn't pool. Flowing up and past his head leaving him feeling lighter then ever before. Tipping his head back with shaking lips, Nubbins let the smoke flow back out. Watching the blurred lines float up towards the ceiling, swirling and dancing together at the same altitude he felt. Nubbins' head felt like it had been cracked open, skull split letting everything that's been locked inside and crammed together out. Emptied until there was nothing left but himself. Never had his mind felt so open. As the head rush plateaued he laid back fully on his bed, the soft fabric melting underneath his weight and cradling his body. Idly spinning the joint in his fingers a lopsided grin stretched across his cheeks, no wonder Sissy and Bobby enjoyed smoking so much. Nubbins normally would be pissed off at them for leaving him out but at the moment, he didn't care. He couldn't find a reason to care when he could lay here and continue feeling good instead. Eagerly lifting the joint back up to his lips, Nubbins inhaled more as his free hand slipped under his favorite loose shirt. Scratching the skin along his stomach lazily.

The bruising on his face long forgotten as he continued to watch the smoke dance around his room, moving like a waterfall in the wrong direction. Like how blood would pour out of a piggy's neck after he broke the skin with his pocket knife. Instead of painting the ground with a pretty shades, these flowed up towards the ceiling and probably past. Nancy always mentioned a place up in the sky, perhaps that's where they were going? What was that place again? Nancy always seemed to speak highly of it, something she rarely ever does bout anything. When was the last time Nancy said anything nice about them? About here? Sure she always feeds Johnny's damn ego, how 'perfect' and 'wonderful' her darling boy was. She never talks about home like she does about the sky place. Would she rather be up there rather then here? Grandpa wouldn't like that... should Nubbins wanna go there? He really don't wanna... He can't see how there'd be any pigs or beeves to toy with in the sky. No weird magical place in the sky could be as comfortable as his bed right in this moment. His body felt heavy, sinking further into a stained material as if trying to meld with it. The touch on his skin felt so soft and so comforting, Nubbins needed more of it.

Heaving himself back into a sitting position, Nubbins felt his body was lagging behind. Half a second behind his mind as he grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off clumsily. Dropping the fabric to the side and eagerly diving back to the welcoming embrace of his bed. Wrapping his lanky limbs around one of the stray pillows still intact he had, nuzzling his face into the plush material. A pleasant tingle dancing across his skin from his face, down his arms and along his stomach. His skin felt alive and buzzing, not the usual energy that had him moving and bouncing but a kind he enjoyed just laying in. Laughter easily flowed out his mouth. Nubbins absolutely could get used to feeling like this, get addicted to it... who knew one person was able to feel so amazing. And all it took was smoking some weird plant? It pulled even more laughter from the depths of Nubbins' guts.

A burning licking at the tips of his fingers brought Nubbins' attention back to the joint, now barely a stump worth holding onto. When had he finished it? Blowing a raspberry at the brief disappointment he flicked the stub to a forgotten corner of the room. Aiming towards Bobby's side but he couldn't tell if his aim was successful or not. Sluggishly running a hand through his greasy strands his attention was attracted to the warm red glow of his dark room set up in the bathroom. Vision blurred as his body continued to move in slow motion, Nubbins could feel his heart pick up pace before he even was able to recognize what he was looking at.

Then his blood ran cold.

Eyes... the eyes were back. They were back and staring right down at him, blocking the comforting light and shrouding Nubbins in a thick shadow. It's inconsistent figure buzzing and pulsing like static as it stood at the end of his mattress. Its skin like a burlap sack filled with fleas all jumping underneath the surface, eager to get at his blood. Back pitched forward to loam over the young man. No sound escaped from either being. A bead of sweat dripped down Nubbins brow despite the goose pimples lining down his arms. Why was it here? Why now? Usually.... usually the didn't bother Nubbins until he was asleep. Was he asleep? When did he doze off? His head began to spin as his heart started pumping even faster. And yet... neither figure moved. A challenge to see which broke first. Which would cower and writhe under the pressure and everything was stacked against Nubbins. His throat started to tighten as he stared back into the figures gaze. Two white pinpricks being the only form able to fully solidify. He needed to get away... he didn't want to be stared at again. To be mocked and judged. Body now shaking and matching the pace of his heart Nubbins forced his body to move as quickly as he could. Throwing his blanket up at the figure and scrambling off his mattress and towards his dark room. Knees and palms scrapping against old splintered wood as he ducked inside the bathroom. Grasping onto the sides of the sink, the cold porcelain feeling like a shock to his burning skin. Desperately sucking in as much air he could now he was hidden from the figures' gaze. His chest heaving as he struggled to hold himself upright.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be scared... cowering. He was supposed to be happy. Enjoying a moment why... why couldn't those figures just give him one damn moment! Always lurking in the corner of his vision then disappearing when Nubbins brought attention to them. Like a cruel joke, a game to see how far they could push him. Grandma used to say they were spirits or such.. not meant to do harm but yet they consistently followed, stared, mocked. Tormenting him and enjoying the fool he'd make out of himself at their sights. Nubbins lifted his head to look at himself through the cracked mirror above his sink. In that moment Nubbins' blood turned to ice one more. Heart dropping to the pit of his stomach to be eaten away at by acid. His chest started to heave as his lungs tightened. Looking towards himself in the mirror all he could see were the hundreds of faces surrounding him. Their gazes locked on him much like the figure still lurking within his room. Turning to press his back against the sink he whipped his head around in an effort to find solace. Yet every wall was adorned with moving eyes that thrived in his panic. Pictures he had taken for his own pleasure taking a life of their own, to jeer at their creator. He could hear the maniacal laughter as their one still images followed him. Surrounded him.

His heart hammered in his chest, beating against ribs and threatening to broke them at any moment as his lungs desperately tried to work. Dropping to his knees Nubbins grasped at his chest as his bones tightened around the offending organs, caging them more and refusing their functions. Moist fingers clawed at his chest desperately as he felt the room start to spin around him. Too tight. His chest felt far too tight, how was he supposed to breathe? How was his heart supposed to beat? Every attempt to suck in air seemed to make his ribs squeeze harder. They needed room... He could feel bruises starting to form where his heart was fighting against bone. Skin was snagged by grimy nails as Nubbins slammed his head against the floor. Splitting angry red lines down the length of his chest. Yes... it was too tight inside and he needed air. One way or another, Nubbins needed air.

A wet sob played for his audience as Nubbins started to tear at his skin with fervor. Nails scraping away layers of skin, only growing more vicious once blood beaded to the surface. It wasn't enough. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. It wasn't enough. With a down right feral snarl Nubbins tug his nails into his chest. Breaking past the skin the aiming deeper, pulling and tearing away at what he could. The sound of flesh tearing was dull to his ears, the blood that pooled onto the ground and seeped into his pants a mere afterthought. If a thought at all. He yelled. He yelled and cried until his throat ran raw, threatening to start bleeding and drown him. His body rocked with heaves as drool and bile fell from his lips adding to the stain pool beneath him. A muffled screech came from the confines of his room, the obstructed vowels vaguely resembling his name. The figure... it had to be the figure calling for him, trying to lure him back out. Panic flooded his veins at the implication, screwing his wet eyes shut with a cry. The tightness hasn't gotten any better, he couldn't dig his claws deep enough. He couldn't pull back enough meat to free his heart and lungs. Still they sat confined and strangled behind uneven bone. His arms burned with exhaustion as his body trembled like a possum soaked in the rain. A lightness pulled at Nubbins' head, lifting the pressure in his spine as his body collapsed. Darkness danced along the edges of his sight as he gazed out the doorway back into his room. The murmuring yelling was still droning in the back of his mind.

"Chop..." Nubbins weakly called as a new wave a tears coated his cheeks. The word breaking and barely audible from overworked cords. Vision blurring as familiar sneakers reached the doorframe.

~~

An irritated grunt was followed by the slam of the old wooden door as Chop returned home. Usually the young man enjoyed being drenched in the blood of an innocent victim, delightfully playing with them as they screamed and writhed under his hammer but today the bloodshed barely pulled forth more then a half energetic grin and occasional chuckle. The wellbeing of his twin was all he could focus on. Damn Cook didn't give him a moment to even check on him before dragging his ass to the truck. Chop made his displeasure very evident in hopes it would get him kicked to the curb. Luck just wasn't on the hippie's side this day as the rest of his siblings sat through his incessant complaints. When they made it to Nancy's he didn't waste time in wrapping the problem pigs up as quickly as he could. Nancy was pleasantly impressed with him yet he couldn't care less at the moment for his aunt's rare approval. He started walking. Down that dirt road back towards home with Drayton yelling at his heels for not helping with clean up.

Chop had only made it three steps into the house before he froze with his eyebrows jumping in concern. The house was quiet. A quiet house and Nubbins never coincided. Nubbins was just as loud and energetic as he was, being quiet never was a strong suit of theirs.

"N-Nubbins? Where... Where's ya at?" Chop called into the eerily still home. There was no reply, no response and that worried him more. Nubbins would avoid Drayton, avoid Nancy and sometimes Johnny if he was upset with him but Chop? Bobby? Nubbins never avoided him. Grabbing onto the railing Chop pulled himself up the stairs towards the second floor, knocking against the wall occasionally to announce his presence some more. Perhaps Nubbins was just invested in something and didn't hear him? Like one of his projects. He could faintly make out the sounds of movement coming from their shared bedroom, releasing some of the worry in his shoulders.

"Nubbins! What're ya so quiet for? House was to-to... well it was to yerself. I'da be... I'da be blasting some Iron Butterfly by now! Or.. or some Humble Pie! You know those guys... heh, well they're always good." Chop laughs as he shoulders their bedroom door open. His gummy grin slowly fell as he was met with the sight of an empty bedroom. The usual disheveled mess it's been with no twin in sight. A pungent order hung in the air, the sour skunk like scent mixed with smoke very familiar to the hippie. Blue eyes quickly clocking the roach that laid left on the ground between their mattresses.

"H-hey... hey Nubbins!" Chop called once more, the worry and concern remaking their home in his chest as he walked further into the room. Just barely catching a weak croak coming from the black room. Making a beeline towards the lone sign of life he crossed the threshold. Nubbins laid face down, barely conscious on the wooden slates, his face red and splotchy from obvious signs of crying. Making the birthmark painting the right side of his face almost unnoticeable. Blood and pile stained the ground around him with an arm outstretched towards the doorframe.

Cursing, Chop quickly dropped down to kneel next to him. Hooking his arms under Nubbins' and lifting his limp body up. A multitude of cuts littered the surface of his chest. Blood smeared across his flesh making it difficult to see how deep they went. Guilt starting to chew its way up as Chop propped his brother's body against the tub as gently as he could.

"N-now now, it'll ah... It'll be fine! Ol' Chop's gotcha now. Grandma 'n Grandpa shoulda- shoulda have something!" He gave a pat to his brothers shoulder, noticeably shakier than usual, before sprinting towards the neighboring bathroom. Ripping open the mirrored cabinet to rummage through the collection of poorly kept first aid. Chop winced slightly hearing the glass mirror slam into the wall, Grandpa surely woulda tan his hide if he were close by, that was a problem for later however. Grabbing the desired items Chop ran back to his brothers side and began dressing his wounds. If there was one thing Chop ever would be grateful about getting drafted... learning on the fly first aid came in handy. Some poking and prodding at the blood slick skin thankfully revealed the cuts weren't that bad. For Nubbins at least, little fucker's had plenty worse. Chop didn't even need to use the glue this time.

"Ya know! Heh, Johnny's in a.. in a lotta trouble now!" Chop laughed as he wrapped old bandages around Nubbins' chest, gauze placed firmly against the cuts as he glanced towards his brothers face. Eyelids drooped low but not fully closed as his gaze held a distant glaze. A nervous tongue swipe against his own lips Chop looked back to his task. "Nancy wasn't all happy with the girls he brought back this time. They was.. they was real squirmy too! You woulda had fun chasin' them! Couse she was being a.... a real bitch to us all night too! She- She tried snatching o' Sonny Bono here- Ha!" A small sound. So soft and quickly Chop almost missed it with his own presence but he saw the quick jump of his brother's chest. A small chuckle. Sure enough, distant eyes seemed as far this time as lips twitched to pull a weak grin.

"... Y-you look like an egg without him...."

A blink. And then another.

"I aint no egghead! Just cause.. Just cause I don't got my do no more! Oh! You hush up, r-ratface!" An unserious smack to the brunette's head followed before Chop hooked an arm under Nubbins' shoulder once more. Lifting his brother back to his feet and helping him out of the darkroom. Helping was an understatement. Chop practically dragged him back out as Nubbins' steps were still shaky and uneven. Leaning a majority of his body weight onto Chop which, admittedly, wasn't much. An occasional wince followed closely by a giggle escaped the younger twin as Chop helped him lay back down on his old mattress.

"Is Drayton still mad at me?" Nubbins' voice was a whisper, throat still raw. Chop ran a hand through his wig with a heavy breath, when wasn't Cook mad? Seemed like just breathing these days would set the old man off on any of their asses. Chop would say he was even worse than before he left, just when had he taken that turn? How long did Bubba and Nubbins have to deal with him before Chop came back? Grabbing the forgotten blanket off of the floor and chucking it back over onto Nubbins' curled up form he waved his hand dismissively.

"Probably more mad at a- at a me now." He couldn't quite tell how Nubbins felt with that reaction. Tired eyes stared off with a small hum in the back of his throat. No doubt exhausted from the episode he went through on his own.

"Y-ya know! Walking all the way back here gave me ah... a new idea! For a song! Thinking about calling it Wasteland! Cause like... cause there's no one on these roads, like a wasteland!" Chop grinned widely as he started talking about his newest idea. Turning back towards his side of the room and starting to arrange some things outside of Nubbins' vision. A small tired smile returned to Nubbins face as he listened as best he could, he really was trying but he couldn't deny how sluggish his body felt. How difficult generating enough energy to even blink, a sensation that always unnerved the always buzzing man but with Chops' eccentric ideas as a calming constant in the background. Nubbins felt more at ease.

"And then something like- Like ah... God! Where is god, where is god, where is- and it goes like that a few more times. Something like 8 or 9 times, yeah! Where is god, where is god, where is-" A snore breaking through and interrupting Chops' words redirected his attention towards Nubbins who now laid asleep. Finally at rest for the night. Walking over to his side Chop leaned over and softly placed the abandoned racoon carcass back in Nubbins' arms. Jaw now securely reattached with some safety pins and spare beads.

"I'll tell ya the rest in the morning."

Now... to find a hiding place for the rest of his joints.

(Credit goes to @cemetery-sunset for the headcanon of Nubbins collecting and using animal/human corpses as stuffed animals basically.

Also I pretty heavily referenced my own experiences with sleep paralysis hallucinations for Nubbins' episode. I may have needed to project just a lil bit)

[raccoonfallsharder]

what’s your favorite version of rocket? for me it’s between eidos rocket and mcu rocket

this is such a great question ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

it’s like asking “what’s your favorite star in the sky?” “which ice cream is the best ice cream?” “what flower do you prefer?” “what bird is the coolest bird?” “what cat is the best cat?”

it’s not that i don’t have a fave (i do, or at least i think i do), it’s just that im picking from such a fucken splendor of options. truly spoiled for choice. there’s no wrong answer here (although some of the comics artists have never, i think, seen a raccoon. here’s lookin at you timothy green ii).

so i’ll rank these motherfuckers but understand that i love them all differently. also im sticking to various versions of canon but honestly some of my fave rockets come from fanfiction writers like @hibatasblog, @caesarhamato22, @aliasrocket, & @elegant-fleuret ~ and what is mcu rocket or cartoon rocket or eidos rocket really but fanfiction with a budget?

anyone else who wants to share their faves and why, please do. it's so fucken fascinating to learn why certain rockets appeal to different people!

Grounded: Rocket Raccoon (2016) story by matthew rosenberg // pencil & ink by jorge coelho i love this furry bastard so much and this whole arc pulls on all my heartstrings which is probably why my first rocket fanfic was based off this storyline. he's at his snarkiest, most cynical self, still saving people in spite of how fucken thankless everyone around him is. as much as comics-rocket talks about how everything he does is for the money, i feel like this series really exemplifies his begrudging willingness to do the right thing for people even when people suck. i just wanna love on him tbh (platonically, romantically, domestically). wanna take care of him. wanna build him a blanket-fort and feed him hot cocoa. grumpy asshat

MCU's Guardians of the Galaxy (2014-2023) created by james gunn, et al. nose to tail, this rocket has the most consistent and coherent character development and we get to see so many sides of him in one long-lived arc, and it's fucking beautiful. just because of the nature of comics in general, we never get to see this much growth in any single incarnation of rocket. but here we have sad-rocket, dad-rocket, lonely-rocket, friend-rocket, baby-rocket, captain-rocket - i love him so much and what this movie has given us in terms of a fully-fleshed out character. plus we get to hear lines like "oh yeah" (you know EXACTLY what i'm talkin about) and his goddamn singing. not to mention that beautiful expressive face.... the way he moves when he's beating the shit out of ravagers... what? huh? where was i?

Rocket Raccoon: Blue River Score (2017) story by al ewing // pencil & ink by adam gorham i fucken love this comic arc. we get a lot of rocket in a suit and we get to see his impulsive behavior, his softness for otta (and by extension, his desire to love/be loved) despite their history, his cleverness in the colon and the final heist, and his relationship with gatecrasher. PLUS if you thought one sad snarky gun-wielding maniac wasn't enough, there's a subplot where rocket and deadpool team up and it's the best thing in the world. just a perfect little kiss from every five-star chef in the galaxy. i love rocket's last few lines to deadpool in this segment. perfection

Marvel's Guardians of the Galaxy Game. (2021) by eidos-montreal and marvel entertainment. just to note: 4,5, and 6 got real murky for me in terms of figuring out how to rank these rockets. i wish i could watch this game multiple times so i could get a better feel for who this rocket is but it is SUCH an undertaking tbh. still, this rocket is so good. bitter, hilarious, sassy, isolated. i love him so much. i just want to play with his beard and also say lots of nice (occasionally naughty) things to him so he blushes really hard like in that sequence where pete was like "you deserve some praise" (i think that was the closest we've ever seen rocket to actual death, volume three included). there's a thing about rockets-in-general that i think this rocket in particular really pulls out of me: the desire to trust, and to be worthy of trust. ...that and the fact that you just know this guy is fuckin filthy. when he decides he wants you, he's gonna make you miserable in all the best ways. like, the level of teasing would be so over-the-top you might spontaneously combust before you get into bed (though luckily, he is an expert when it comes to manipulating combustibles).

Assorted other comic appearances that I've smushed into one thing in my mind. i dunno, friend. rocket who blames himself for pete's apparent death breaks my heart. rocket who thinks he's the only one of the guardians left breaks my heart. rocket who blames himself for groot's death breaks my heart. rocket who is sick and alone on halfworld like an animal crawling under the porch to die but ends up leaving inside a giant mech-suit to save his friends breaks my heart. rocket who protects chewy's kids breaks my heart even though it's supposed to be a lighthearted fucken arc. there are more.

Rocket Raccoon, Volume 2. (2014-205) story by skottie young, pencil & ink by various artists. yo. this rocket is so different and yet still perfectly rocket. he's a hyped-up little gremlin of a guy who fucks and is probably constantly high off blaster-fumes and engine-fuel. i fucken love him so much. imagine rocket with no self-confidence issues who pops caffiene pills and energy drinks every half-hour and smashes anything that can orgasm, and you've got a skottie young rocket. while other rockets might get you off because they think they've got something to prove or want to keep you coming back, this is a rocket who has learned how to use his tail solely for the fact that it's a claim to fame that means he can get laid anytime he wants. he never lacks for an excited partner (or partners) because everyone in sixty-nine systems knows how fuckin good he is. ultimately, he fucks like a god for the most (apparently) selfish, shallow reasons (and then inevitably ghosts his partners). or maybe not. maybe he's also just obsessed with the idea that anything he's gonna do, he has to do over-the-top. like planning an intergalactic scavenger hunt for your friend's birthday. ...but scrape the surface and underneath you find a guy who's just so afraid of being the only one of his kind that he's gotta fuck or shoot everything in his vicinity. what a wild little shithead. i love him so much, so much. p.s. the fron storyline - the cold, parts one and two - is one of my favorites. he loves groot so much. and princess jink is the fucken best

Guardians of the Galaxy TV Series/Cartoon. (2015-2019). i enjoyed this rocket and his gremlin ways. his fascination with duct tape is a particular point of charm. the take on his backstory was interesting. loved the episode with ja kyee lrurt - like it was so fuckin cute i could die. i need more of THAT storyline in particular.

Rocket & Groot TV Series/Cartoon. (2017) i loved this so much but it just left me wanting more (just because, you know, of the nature of this type of short-episode media). big skottie young energy. ultimately, trevor devall does a fine job but i think his voice in both this and the other cartoon make it a little harder for me to fully embrace these rockets. like his interpretation of rocket's voice just doesn't match mine, you know? and that's okay. still would rewatch 5,739 times.

how's that? i still need to watch telltale but i think i got most of the iterations in there lol. anyone i forgot, or who is worth specifically pulling out and mentioning by author/issue/edition?

[terraliensvent]

Civ and Coy have left the species altogether as of today due to disagreements with the current staff. They didn’t want to cut back on making adopts so they removed all the pet info and split apparently.

What’s your opinion mod? Need screenshots?

gonna talk about this whole sitch in one go since i got a bunch of asks all together about it (asks above isnt all of them, just what i thought was notable)

first of all, imgur gallery of relevant screens in chronological order for you all. i am nothing if not a diligent journalist: https://imgur.com/a/8JlrfUs i recommend reading through that all because i dont feel like adding transcripts atm

now me personally, this is how i feel about the announcement

it astounds me how far coy will go to show their own ass in these situations (being impulsive, breaking in to the site to delete shit, shit talking the community THEY CULTIVATED??) and the funniest fucking part is that all this started because they were asked to maybe not profit off the species more than the people who are actually working hard on it (which, genuinely i think the new team has done more to further the species than anything ever under civ and coy. we have actual tangible evidence of work being done in the staff wip channel and FINALLY FUCKING TRAIT GUIDES, but anyways)

coy is a modern day furry icarus; all you had to do was shut your stupid mouth and you could have continued to rake in cash from the species you essentially left to die. i mean hell, cal (tycho) was being incredibly generous in saying you would be allowed 1 adopt per month as opposed to every two months like every other damn member of staff has to follow. you flew too close to the sun and now youve lost your easiest source of cash flow you dumbass

AND ON TOP OF THAT, to go on your instagram story to bitch and whine about it and show even more your lack of empathy for the people trying to piece together the mess you made, its just such disgusting behavior honestly. like terra staff is asking so little of you and yet you feel the need to shit your diaper over it because "well i created this initially so i should get to profit more than the staff team who are actually doing shit" youre acting like some CEO of a company who gets to rake in cash just because they slapped their name on a project being run by other people. its corny as hell and insanely childish that you cant be an adult (coy is 19 now guys!) and either abide by the fucking MINISCULE request they made of you, or be a civil human being and wash your hands of it instead of continuing again and again to try and wreck shit for other people who dont even want to gaf about you anymore. again, you had the easiest option in front of your face that would allow you to keep making money from your "brand" while doing essentially nothing, but you just could not be an adult and put away your impulsivities for a goddamn minute. that really exemplifies every single drama this species has ever been in, shit fits rising up because you and your staff (not current staff) couldnt grow the fuck up for five minutes and think before you type

and then to act like theyre not in the wrong about it really is the cherry on top of the shit sundae. coy has such an echo chamber around them that any bad decision is never critiqued and they just continue on this self-righteousness. maybe stop misconstruing the situation like "wah wah they keep changing things and pulling the rug out from under me" (which, funny enough you would know what was going on if you actually faced your consequences for once and tried to be a part of your bastard childs life) because you know thats not what happened. i hope their fans see how shitty their behavior is, because if i was someone with this sordid of a history especially relating to cs, i doubt anyone would want to work with me.

oh and civ left too lol. honestly i find their lack of response a million leagues better than whatever the fuck coys got going on. new terra staff keeps raking in the dubs i guess, i mean getting coy and civ to stop money grubbing over the species is awesome and now it can probably flourish even better than before. im sure the new pets will be cool too, seeing as the old ones were not really anything to lose your mind over. barely anyone wanted them as part of the species, and now that theyre gone theyre probably gonna be tossed into the void. at least now it might be cool to see what new staff team comes up with in the way of pets

mega rant over now but feel free to keep talking in my inbox about it, terravent fans rejoice because we finally have something to talk about

[kalevalakryze]

Loth Cats

Pairing: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren, The Loth Cat Warnings: An Intense Rivalry Between A Loth Cat Who Doesn't Want Things To Change, And A Territorial Shin Hati. AHSOKA SPOILERS, she/they Shin Hati, Implied sexual content, Shin thinks about getting a new rug Notes: Shin has beef with a cat Summary: "If that cat," They sneered. "Gets in my way, I will show you how low I can go," "If you hurt him, I'm gonna go find someone else to kill me, you know?" Word Count: 1,255 AO3 Link: Here!

The last time Shin had been here, she'd been an enemy, sliding her saber through Sabine's stomach.

That was unsurprisingly, not the thought on either of their minds as Sabine pressed their back into the wall beside the door. Lips found Shin's neck, hands trailed up Sabine's shirt, and a thigh pressed between their own.

The sound of small paw pads and claws on cement were the first and only warning they had before an incessant yowling had Sabine ripping away from Shin all too fast.

Their back still pressed into the door, she managed to catch sight of the dirty thing that Sabine was kneeling in front of to pet. "You missed me, didn't you," Her voice had risen in pitch as she talked to the creature, only intensifying Shin's annoyance.

"What is that?" She questioned, still breathless as she reached to fix her clothes, eyeing the cat distrustfully.

"He's my cat, a Loth Cat," Sabine offered an easy smile, this one did not bring butterflies to Shin's stomach like the others had. "His name's Nix, like, Phoenix, cuz-" A gesture to the symbol spray painted by the door had the Mercenary rolling her eyes.

"Right," The... thing, Nix, glared up at her, teeth baring as he hissed. Shin's lips pulled back into a snarl right back at the thing.

"Come on, stop," Sabine lightly smacked Shin's shoulder before the door was open. Her friends in high places must have fixed the mess Shin and Morgan's droids had dealt, with the consoles newly repaired. "Aw, look Nix, Ryder left a note," She called to the beast as it strutted in behind her, leaving Shin in the dark.

Shin stepped inside only to be met with a warning hiss from the beast, so she returned it's tone in a growl, baring her teeth to the small animal to express some kind of territory. Sabine was hers, not his. She stabbed the Mandalorian, so she got exclusive rights.

"I bet you're hungry,"

"We just ate?" Shin blinked up at Sabine from across the room, though the laugh and smile from the Mandalorian inferred that she'd been talking to the very puntable looking ragdoll.

"Talking to Nix, Kurs'kaded,"

Shin allowed themselves to fall silent as she swept around the room, nails dragging over caps to spray paint cans stacked around the corners or the art along the walls as Sabine filled a food bowl for the thing.

The sound of it's jaws crunching on the kibble grated on her nerves, though Sabine calling her beck over was enough for her to look past it.

The Mandalorian had dropped onto the edge of the small bed in the corner, urging Shin to cross the room in long strides so they could settle between her legs again.

Their fingers carded through Sabine's hair as her hands moved to the backs of their thighs, urging them to straddle their lap. It gave Shin the perfect opportunity to work her tongue into the other woman's throat, at least with the furry interruption, the heat hadn't died down entirely between them.

Pulling away just enough to start working Sabine's shirt over their head, Shin only managed to toss it to the side and lean in to smash their lips together again when Nix pressed himself between them.

"Krif, Nix! Claws!" Sabine chided, wriggling underneath Shin uncomfortably until the woman was forced to get up. Her spot was immediately taken by the little bastard, curling up in Sabine's lap with a self satisfied pur.

"Guess he missed me more than I thought?" Sabine's fingers scratched through the ratty looking fur. Why pet it when she could be petting her?

Record scratch, Shin's brows furrowed as she lowered herself into a seat near the table. Was she jealous of this thing? The house pet?

Yes, yes she was.

"So.. because this cat thing missed you..." They trailed off, an eyebrow raising in Sabine's direction.

"Sorry, Shin... I don't need him scratching my eyes out while I'm trying to eat you out,"

Huffing, Shin leveled a murderous glare at the 'snoozing' Loth Cat. "Maybe in the morning, he always goes out to hunt something, that should give us time?"

"I was unaware that your schedule was dictated by a beast that didn't even have thumbs," Shin leaned away from the hand that reached for her childishly.

"Shin," Sabine drawled with a pout, shifting Nix from her lap to follow their childish retreat. Standing, Sabine wrapped her arms around them before they could drop back onto the bench. "Come on, he's only gonna be clingy for a little bit, this is the first time I ever really left him,"

When Shin still refused to look down to meet her gaze, Sabine decided to take drastic measures. Reaching to tug one of Shin's hands away from under their arms, Sabine pressed their palm against the scar on their stomach.

It was no secret that Shin was obsessed about the mark, and weak when it came to it. Any time Sabine allowed them to see or touch it was holy.

Their eyes snapped down to watch their own thumb following the smooth circle from her blade's entry point. The skin was rough under her fingers, though she equated the feeling to rich people and their velvety satins.

Looking to Sabine for only a minute, she caught the small smirk on her moon's face. "This is low, even for you," They remarked halfheartedly.

"Yeah, well, maybe you make me want to go low," Sabine countered, taking her hand from Shin's to wrap her arms around their neck, allowing Shin's hand to slide from her front to the exit wound on her back, their other hand clamping around her hips to tug her closer.

"If that cat," They sneered. "Gets in my way, I will show you how low I can go,"

"If you hurt him, I'm gonna go find someone else to kill me, you know?"

"You are the worst," Shin pressed a chaste kiss to her lips to hers with a sigh. "Fine, I will not hurt it... but he needs to understand you are mine,"

Sabine shook her head with a laugh. "I think it's so cute that you're really beefing with a cat, now come on, the faster we go to sleep, the faster morning will come. And I'm really excited for breakfast,"

Shin allowed the Mandalorian to drag her to bed, even allowing her to take off her armor and pull her outer layer of clothes away before they laid back.

The bed was small, so with their back against the wall, Shin wrapped themselves securely around Sabine's back, legs tangling together with her nose buried in purple hair.

Waking up to a creature above her head, claws pushing into the pillows and her strewn about hair, with a loud purring in her ear was not what Shin was expecting, nor was she expecting to open her eyes to the click of a camera.

Sabine was leaning half off the bed with the datapad pointed at her to capture the picture of sleepy Shin and Nix making biscuits in her hair.

"If that goes anywhere, I will blow this tower to hell," They grumbled darkly, reaching to swat at the cat on her head. When claws cut through her forearm, she pushed herself off the mattress to glare at it. "I will cut you back, beast," She snarled, grinning and self satisfied when Nix jumped back and off the bed to hide behind Sabine's boots.

[bloodmilkred]

Mid december, 10 pm - Target Acquired

The night was cold and unwelcoming, snow fell from the sky, making the quaint little town nearly impossible to see from a distance. Red’s horse struggled to get through the snow as they entered the village, looking for a place to rest for the night. After some searching, Red found the town’s stables and brought his horse inside, tying the weary creature up and letting her eat and drink. He made sure to take off her saddle and lay a blanket over her to keep her warm in the stormy night.

The journey had been long, and he was tired, though his exhaustion didn't halter him from his goal. He had a target: The town’s sheriff, and if Red was lucky, that bastard was out drinking tonight.

“I'll be back tomorrow, get yer rest.” Red spoke to his horse as if she understood him, thick southern drawl prominent even as his voice was soft and quiet. After petting her face for a few moments, he turned to trudge his way through the snow and to the saloon.

It wasn't too shabby, the sound of men’s laughter and piano leaking out and breaking the silence of snow fall. He made his way up the steps, and the floorboards creaked as he stepped inside, causing the piano music to fade and voices to quiet, all heads turning to see the stranger's face.

Most voices, anyway, as one yapped on for a few moments longer.

The town Sheriff, Robin, watched as the bartender’s hand reached for a shotgun behind the counter. He whipped his own head around and put his hand on his own holster. It was obvious the town’s people weren't too keen on strangers, especially ones that traveled at night.

The man at the door was very tall, but seemed unphased by all the eyes aimed at him. He walked to the bar counter, kicking out a stool and sitting down a seat away from the sheriff.

“You serve food here?” Red asked, boots making puddles underneath his seat as the snow melted off of them.

“No. Just drinks,” The bartender’s eyes were as wide as ever, taking in the looks of the red stranger. His coat was thick and furry, obviously used to cold climates. Probably from up north.

“Ah, that's just fine sir. I'll have a glass of Pendleton,” Red’s voice was flat. The crowd around him had gone back to what they were doing before, upbeat piano music resuming. Red glanced around and noticed a pair of bright green eyes staring at him from the second floor railing. He looked like a mini version of the bartender, must've been his son.

The bartender’s hand brushed against a couple of the bottles before finding the whiskey and filling a glass half full.

“Pay up before I serve you.” The bartender grumbled. Robin snickered, though he was really thinking about how tall the stranger was, and how it wasnt really fair. He took a rather large swig from his glass.

“No problem, sir,” Red pulled out a small pouch, filled to the brim with coins. He tossed it onto the counter, and it clicked loudly against the hardwood. The bartender snatched the bag up in a heartbeat, shoving it into his pocket. With the same blank expression as always, he filled up Red’s glass completely and slid it across the counter to him. The man beside Red had of course been eyeing the interaction, and decided an interjection would be appropriate.

It was eating at him anyhow,

he had to speak to this mysterious stranger, and the money had him sold.

“So, where are you from?” he leaned closer, though far away.

“Hm?” Red's gaze was directed to him, eyes skimming his badge.

“I said,” he tapped a finger against the bartop, “Where’d ya come from? You’re definitely not from round’ here.”

Red watched him, holding his glass, but not drinking from it.

“Round north.” he answered briefly,

“And yer the sheriff?”

Robins eyes lit up for a split second before he tapped his badge that sat crooked on his vest,

“Ain’t it pretty self explanatory?” he boasted, but cut himself off, raising a hand in the air to lead into the next question,

“Are they all so tall up north?”

Reds eyes followed Robins feathered hand,

“Eh?” he looked back to his face, peering down and noticing just how far his feet swung above the floor.

“No, not really, not that I’ve seen at least-“

Robin cut in,

“Hey! My eyes are up here mister.” he snapped, grabbing Reds attention, and then spoke again.

“Why are you traveling in the middle of a winter like this? You got a loose screw or somethin’?”

“Aren’t you nosy?” his eyes met Robins,

“Let's take a step back, sheriff, what's your name?” his tail swayed behind him in his seat, aware of the dirty floor.

Robins face twisted a bit in response to the comment,

“Well hell— I was just makin’ conversation.” he then crossed his arms and scoffed.

“You’re a rude one.”

Red swirled the glass in his hand, watching the liquid whirl around as he awaited a response.

After a moment, the sheriff spoke again,

“The name's Robin, but I’m sure you’ve heard a’ me already.” a sneer flashed across his face, sipping away at his own glass. Possibly his seventh of the night. Not that he would remember.

Red pressed an elbow to the bartop, nodding, this was undoubtedly his target.

“Really now..” his hand traveled under his heap of hair, feeling the fur of his face, “Yer that sharp shooter?” he attempted to sound impressed, noting just how cocky he was, and Robin was feeding off of it, easily.

“Honor to meet you, Robin.” he held out a paw for him, which Robin eagerly took with both hands,

“Indeed I am!” he shook it roughly, a drunken smile flashed across his face,

“And what’s yer name stranger?”

“You can call me Red,” He took Robin’s little hand firmly. Red was shocked with the appearance of his target, as he had only seen inaccurate illustrations and heard rumors about this country side’s best known shot. From whatever he had gathered, he did not presume that there would be a small bird in front of him. The man seemed tipsy, and Red hoped that his own name wouldn't fire guns in Robin's head, for he was just as well known.

“Red. Hm,” Robin let go of his hand and turned to face his drink again.

“Very fitting name,” his face twisted at the familiarity.

“Ain’t it?” Red laughed a little,

“Nice little town you got here, sheriff, from what I've seen.”

Truth is he hasn't seen much of it at all, but he wanted to make conversation.

Robin perked up, fingers tapping at his holster.

“You think it's nice? I do a fine job keeping everything in check alright. Not a single filthy criminal slips through my fingers.”

“I'd say,” Red smiled, though you couldn't tell. The man in front of him was no threat, Red even considered him to be cute, though that thought was quickly crushed. This man was his target, he could not falter.

Robin quieted as he leaned towards Red,

“Ya know, the folks round here dont take kindly to strangers, but I think new faces keep it from gettin’ dull,” He pulled away and grabbed his glass, “That don't mean I trust you though.”

“I can tell that much,” Red glanced around at the murmuring drinkers, “I aint no threat.”

he stretched his back,

“But I am quite tired, sheriff. It's been a long travel,” He set down his empty glass, standing, “Keep the change.”

“Oh, goodnight uhm… Red. Yes, goodnight Red,” Robin waved at him, very drunk indeed.

“So long, Sheriff,” His tail brushed against Robin’s leg as he walked out, adjusting his coat.

The cold winter air hit Red hard. He trudged through the snow again until he finally found a neat motel, obviously the newest thing in town. He pushed through the door and snow fell from the fur of his coat as he tossed a bag of coins to the sleepy motel owner. After he received a key, he went to his motel room. It was a nice room, impressive for this run down town. He threw off his now wet coat and fell onto the bed, passing out immediately

[cyberrat]

90% of the time Angel bottoms, but when he and Husk eventually get more comfortable, Angel toys with the idea of pinning Husk behind the bar counter and fucking him in the lobby. His limp whisky dick can't do much anyways, but at least Angle can spare a hand to stroke it while pumping between the older demon's legs.

He's jerky and uncoordinated, but he revels in the power he feels being able to make Husk whimper and whine with just a snap of his hips. He tries his best to be his usual domineering self, but he can't help but get lost in the feeling of Husk's warm insides clenching around him so sweetly~

Ooohhh shiet yeah!!! Yeah yeah yeah!!!!

He‘s so much taller than Husk, I can just see him bend over him and the counter, one set of hands on Husk‘s shoulder, the other clamped around the edge of the counter.

Husk probably pressing one hand over his muzzle, to muffle his little soft moans.

You talking about Angel thrusting between his thighs first made me think of him really fucking those thighs. Like dragging his spider cock through the silky soft fur there and nudging against Husk‘s furry balls.

It would be so cute if they rub off with each other like that the first few times before Angel starts to really wonder how it would be to fuck that sweet little hole beneath Husk‘s tail.

Of course they‘d fuck around in the open. I think Husk would deffo try to contain it to moments where it‘s pretty certain nobody will stumble over them, but Angel is a slutty bastard and once he‘s tasted topping he‘ll deffo want to do it all the fucking time.

[greensweethome]

Ted Raimi's characters as cats (Part 3)

21. Artist cat

The same bastard who breaks your things by looking you in the eye. It is because of him that every year you come up with new ways to secure the tree for Christmas and began to buy all decorations made of unbreakable materials. He can not stand the order in the house and arranges a garbage dump. Everywhere pops muzzle and paws, leaves traces at crime scenes. Your hand will not rise to punish him.

22. Cat of the main villain

Every self-respecting villain should have a furry purring friend who adds aesthetics, easy humanity, or vice versa demonic nature. If you're planning on being villainous, this curly version will suit you. Obedient, playful and well trained. However, still a kitten. If you make sure that nothing happens to him, then you can have a wonderful four-legged helper.

23. Artificial cat.

'Detroit: Become Human' would never have happened if people started creating not androids, but synthetic cats. Smart, adjusts to your needs, and doesn't require food or water. And also he does not require sleep, so at night he has too much freedom. Do not forget that synthetics have the ability to connect to the network and this cat is no exception, because it has a usb cable in its tail. Trust me, you don't want your cat to know your browsing history. Protect yourself from the gaze of judgment.

24. Trained kitten He is a very smart boy and knows a lot of commands for such a small kitten. Non-conflict, peaceful and calm. With proper development, it will grow into an amazing friend and pet, which you will film and show to all people around, saying "look what a smart cat I have"! It may seem cowardly, but in case of danger it will be the first to rush at the offender to scratch out his eyes.

25. Adventurer cat

The same moron who climbs everywhere, and then cannot get out and will yell until you come and help him. You got better at keeping an eye on him when one day he was trapped inside the couch and you literally had to destroy him to free this fool. Playful and energetic, can sometimes hiss but quickly makes cute eyes to be forgiven. Sleeping in funny positions.

26. Vandal cat

You didn't want him in your house, but somehow he ended up here. It brings prey, but does not share, but leaves behind bloody footprints, and then watches with satisfaction as you clean up after it. Often hisses and hides so that you will not find him, no matter how hard you try. Sleeps on your face at night, trying to choke.

27. Loud cat

Here is such a little rubbish, and the sound is like a Jericho trumpet. the brightest star in the house and he knows it. If you wish, you can take it to various exhibitions and get decent places. He pretends to be proud and impregnable, but soon lies on the floor and tries to get your attention by meowing loudly. Loves to be brushed. Spoiled.

28. Distrustful kitten

Tired cat, but a mini version. Unapproachable and hissing loudly, he can even attack you and start scratching, and then he will hide from you throughout the house, fearing punishment for what he has done. When he gets used to you, he will be able to be near you. And somewhere in a year, he will also stick to you and will resist your attempts to remove him from you.

29. Frightened cat

He's seen all sorts of shit. Quiet and sleepy. It is better not to leave the baby alone for a long time, he begins to get scared and naturally cry when you return home. Sleeps with you in the same bed and likes to hide under the covers. When guests come to you, he immediately hides, and if someone finds him, he meows loudly and runs away. Sometimes he looks into empty corners and meows at them.

30. Therapist cat

Always there for you when you need it. Purrs soothingly and massages sore spots when you lie down. Guests do not like him, but he will still be next to you or on his knees. If they try to remove him, he will hiss and even wave his paw. Very dedicated. Recommended for people with anxiety.

>> Part 1

>> Part 2

[pitgritted]

‘  stay  where  you  are  .  i'm  coming  to  get  you  .  ’ 

a  wary  chortle  wallops  the  walls  of  his  esophagus  .  although  much  too  evidently  stricken  from  the  bravado  of  his  usual  brawn  &  self  destructive  behavior  ;  his  silence  accompanying  the  other  end  of  the  cellular  device  felt  too  awkward  .  stuck  in  the  limelight  of  the  world  .  a  peculiar  light  bobbing  down  in  a  set  of  rhythmic  beats  —  a  taboo  resonance  with  the  movement  of  his  jugular  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  usually  would  have  picked  up  the  slack  .  expected  this  outcome  .  pick  up  his  bones  &  stand  upright  .  that’s  what  he  should’ve  done  .  should’ve  .  sweaty  embalmed  fingers  grip  the  white  of  his  shirt  ,  rubbing  it  extensively  ,  roughly  …  hard  .  smears  of  brown  reap  the  textile  ,  &  smelt  of  iron  .  was  he  bleeding  ?  it  was  dry  enough  to  become  old  ;  dampen  in  color  .  had  he  even  realized  it  to  begin  with  ?  was  the  adrenaline  that  much  of  a  kick  to  his  dick  ?  give  him  a  break  .  not  that  his  testicles  in  question  were  ever  kicked  ,  no  ,  they  were  fine  .  they  were  the  furthest  from  being  royally  fucked  over  .

on  the  contrary  .  he  sort  of  felt  like  this  was  something  he  was  married  to  ;  used  to  the  buzz  of  his  mind  that  naturally  went  along  with  it  .  the  fighting  ,  he  means  .  something  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  knew  yone  wasn’t  all  too  keen  over  ,  including  the  unsavory  verbatim  from  his  mother  .  he  realizes  he’s  breathing  much  too  quickly  &  quickly  reacts  to  the  impending  voice  of  yone  ,  affirming  once  again  .

‘  sett  ?  ’

he  clutches  his  mental  bearings  ,  keep  focused  .  eyelids  all  too  tempted  to  close  ,  succumb  to  the  dark  blots  flickering  in  his  peripheral  vision  .  ❝  yeah  —  yeah—  ah  …  i’m  ‘ere  .  got  me  pretty  good  ,  hah  . ❞  a  few  beats  &  a  shaky  swallow  .  ❝  yone  —  “  his  voice  assumes  a  much  deeper  bass  ,  hinting  at  the  ferocity  behind  his  words  .  ❝  yone  keep  talkin’  my  ear  up  a  storm  .  it’ll  …  yeah  —  it’ll  help  keep  me  grounded  til’  you  get  ‘ere  .  ❞  furry  lupine  auricles  ticks  upwards  ,  strained  to  remain  fixed  .  the  nerve  endings  of  his  ears  pricking  the  highlighted  tips  of  his  fur  ,  reacting  to  his  surroundings  more  attentively  .  he  usually  found  this  being  the  case  when  his  body  felt  almost  too  cold  for  comfort  .  he’s  clutching  on  to  the  luck  that  it  was  just  his  damp  environment  .

his  skull  clashes  against  the  brick  wall  keeping  his  burly  body  from  sliding  ,  keeping  him  grounded  .  𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓  pressed  the  device  against  the  fat  of  his  pectorals  ,  fingers  adhering  within  the  wee  bit  of  energy  it  had  left  to  assure  yone  was  on  speaker  .  he  could  hear  his  companion  on  the  other  end  make  haste  ,  was  he  running  ?

❝  you  bastard  …  don’t  fuckin’  get  yourself  run  over  in  the  process  .  ‘ll  make  it  —  always  do  .  just  …  mn  …  ❞

@windchaser

[rainbowmancer-gwen]

This might be a long one so bear with me. Don't read if you don't like hospitals, Transphobia or nasty things. TW- SA, PTSD, Little space/ age regression, hospitals, Pain, Morphine.

Thank you to my Joyfriend @macrotiis for helping me through the last couple of days.

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YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

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So as some of you know I've been fighting some PTSD related to SA... Monday night at training Mestre was trying to teach something to do with wrists. So without knowing that's a trigger grabbed my wrist and I panicked... Asked politely that he let go. He did when he saw how scared I was. I ran away to fight back the tears

Came back to that mats and kicked harder than I have ever kicked. Me today is a lot stronger than me then and the bastard who hurt me won't anymore. (Should probably learn that wrist thing for the sake of the old me... But baby steps).

So I get home and I start having pain in me... Scrotum. (A girls' scrotum attached to a girl) Called healthline, and they said it's torsion, so call 111. 111 all ambulances are busy, but I need to be seen. They paid for a taxi. The taxi journey was kinda harrowing because of all of the wiggley roads... But Ahmed was kinda lovely to me. Gave me a furry pride badge that he had in his car for some reason when I asked about it.

Get to hospital and have to Deadname self to receptionist. She's super sweet and changes it... But calls me Gwendolyn and I have to correct. She was actually great and could see I was struggling a little. Triage nurse was a legend.

ED nurse was not. So, the nurse in ED botched an IV into the back of my hand causing agony. whilst the doctor was talking to/ examining me (She should have stopped because the doctor literally had my lady jewels in my hands)...

Then after she persists, and she's digging in my hand. I can see the line tissuing as the doctor is squeezing my nads and explaining stuff like, "For Cis folks, the goal is to save the testicle. Are you okay with me calling them testicles? " I'm like... Look, I really don't care... Just do what you gotta do. He was a very young looking doctor his name was Claude. He looked a little gender nonconforming, but I was too out of it to ask... did talk to the acute urologist about orchiectomy instead, which was kinda a cool gender consideration, I guess...

I am in pain and she goes "Sorry brother", She was wearing a rainbow lanyard.... There's tell us your pronoun posters everywhere. Not good enough!

Sonographer said, "Testicles are tricky fellas to scan sometimes... Again too high on morphine to care, but deep down, sorta cared

Moved to other ward. The nurse confirmed pronouns with me, which was nice. Let me sleep for most of the night and didn't need to check me often. Was really sweet with both judging me for my comfort items (plushies and a blankie from home and an adult pacifier)/ waking me when I had, eyemask, and earplugs in, (waking me by touch, wakes me up ready for a fight...) Spoke a little about trauma/ mental health (how I got here) and wanted to see my tattoos. I told her a little about why I had my binky... Big me can fight... Small me couldn't. Sometimes, she needs comforting. Nothing else was said, but I know they're likely to talk about it...

My discharge paper says 33F testicular pain. So that's cool... Thankfully, my condition self resolved save for a little pain (a lot of pain but now managable)

I slept most of yesterday. I felt very small. Managed to go to the ISO social potluck, but it was kinda overwhelming. I cried into my friens shoulder when he called me a "Tank!"... You're right Jasper I am a tank. But my friend Jordan said "A tank is only armoured on the outside. Inside it's cramped, tense, and complicated"

Can the world just stop throwing shit at me for one day? That's all I want! Let me catch my breath...

Santo Antonio. Quero Agua!

[fruitanddarkness]

👫 for daki & gyutaro !!

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

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Daki knows that Gyutaro, even though he now takes pride in his ugliness, has bad days where he feels self-conscious or less than compared to other men.. so she makes it a point to tell him that he's perfect and that at the end of the day, his little sister adores him; and she would rather have him over any 'stuffy rich bastard'. After all, together they can do anything.

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Although Gyutaro is obviously the brash bodyguard of the pair, Daki has a habit of checking on him if she hasn't heard from him or felt his presence at least once during her time being awake and active. If she's feeling extra lonely, she'll venture out and find a big strong human to give her brother a good meal. It's her love language.

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Because of her brother, Daki thinks things like spiders and snakes specifically are cuter than the standard small furry creatures. He taught his little sister not to be afraid of them, and that they were important they helped to keep the pests out and their home clean. Sometimes, if she finds a particularly big or beautiful one, she'll ask Gyutaro to come and look at it with her.

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Gyutaro helped his sister to develop her 'lady-like' manners while they were both children. He knew that Ume had a future that would allow her to have a better life, but she needed to climb the ranks of courtesans and escorts. Which meant she needed to nail down the elegant mannerisms and poise of a 'proper lady' while they had time together. In meals, in conversation, and even in walking practice and how to dress.