#did the rat fursona not kick in

[bigfatbreak]

"bfb why do the transformed blasphemous hero forms look like furries" because I'm a furry next question

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Imagine Going Trick-or-Treating With Sid and Your Son:

@bitweird1 said: “Maybe one where (The reader isn't one of the "Monsters") It's in the future and Sid is playing around with his and the reader's little kid with his super speed and it's super fluffy and cute?❤”

A/N: This is an old-ish request but it’s spoopy season now, I haven’t written creatively since this semester has started, and the last season of Gotham is officially on Netflix; I haven’t finished it yet, so I don’t know exactly what happens at the end, but “one of Gotham’s darkest times” used to mean the beginning of the blackout but now means the return of Jeremiah after the chemicals accident, so this takes place a few years after the show ends. Also, yes, I turned Gotham into a festive Halloween town; let me have this.

[Y/S/N] = your son’s name

Happy Spoops!

~~~

    “Ah, Halloween,” Sid murmured, a small smile gracing his pale features, “The one time Gotham seems to be at peace. The place must have been made for it.”

    “Pretty sure it’s the other way around,” you replied teasingly, “Halloween was made for Gotham. That stuff about Halloween existing before it was founded? Conspiracy. Gotham was never founded, it just appeared one day in olden times and with it the spirit of Halloween. And the spirit of weirdos in flashy attire who like to rob people.”

    Sid snickered before briefly getting distracted by a large, lit up witch balloon that was posted outside of a high-class suit shop.

Gotham was often considered the city of darkness, of pollution and corruption; on Halloween, however, it was--unknowingly, to the outside world--the city of life and laughter (for once, not the bad or chemically-induced kind). On a regular day, it already looked like someplace out of a gothic Halloween film, with its tall, dark buildings, its year-around fall-like weather, its abundance of gargoyles, and its high population of crazies sporting fashion that fit into the categories of both classy and absurd. When Halloween came around, that aesthetic was cranked up from eleven to thirteen; the gargoyles were polished, string lights of various Halloween icons hung from every awning and window sill, cobwebs were draped across light posts, and it appeared had all crime and evil in the city had stopped--even though even the most clueless person in Gotham was aware that was not so. Regardless, it was a rare time where Oswald Copplepot, the notorious Penguin, would genuinely smile at children--he even kept candy at his clubs for trick-or-treaters--and you were sure that at one point you saw The Riddler, shiny green suit and all, helping a smaller-than-average child sneak more than one candy from a public ‘Grab one!’ candy bowl that was just a little too tall for them. 

    You and Sid were walking hand in hand through the crowded streets of the city, blocked off by the GCPD to allow people to roam without worrying about traffic. The two of you gently glided through a sea of costumed children and adults alike, scurrying like rats to their endless destinations of the night. You yourselves had a mission, and it took the form of a little boy trotting ahead a yard in front of you, in a vampire costume that was much too expensive but absolutely worth it. He was a carbon copy of your partner in features, down to the slightly larger than average ears and a jawline noticeable even through still-present baby fat, with your eyes and jaw-length hair a couple shades lighter than your own, currently slicked back in classic Dracula fashion. He was a few years old, born during one of Gotham’s darkest times but raised well and loved fiercely. Love was a trait well passed on to him, too; it showed in the copy of his father’s impish smile and the gentle kindness when he helped another child, dressed as a fairy, pick up their candy after tripping. 

    Unfortunately, for a speedster, your son was clumsy. He’d started running soon after he’d started walking, which, if Sid wasn’t a speedster himself, would result in far too many random and bizarre injuries for your liking. Still, over the course of raising a meta-child, you’ve gathered a special form of anxiety every time your child tripped or lunged or made any sort of jerky movement; you could never tell whether it was going to be a small knee scrape or you child disappearing and reappearing on the other side of town with a twisted ankle and a bloody nose in a matter of seconds. 

    Now was one of those times.

    Not long after the fairy child had gone on their way and the three of you started walking again, [Y/S/N] himself tripped; apparently, Gotham needed to touch up the cracks and potholes in its roads. When your son got spooked, his instincts, and thus powers, kicked in and this was no exception. One minute he was stumbling ahead in front of you, the next he was gone and no one but you and Sid noticed anything more than a breeze. 

    As the world for [Y/S/N] sped up, your world slowed down; you didn’t have superpowers running through your veins, just the fear of not knowing where your child would end up or if he would be able to stop himself without hurting himself. You were suddenly far too aware of your own spiking heartbeat and the clamminess of your hands, and you were so distracted by the spot where your son had been that you didn’t notice Sid’s hand was no longer in yours.

    Only when you got a text did you notice that not one, but both of your boys had disappeared.

    Sid: He’s alright. Scraped up hands and knees, and missing a shoe, but he’s alright. Ended up in the garbages behind Gotham Bar. Almost scared Bullock to death, but now we have his entire candy stash as reward for ‘one good prank.’

    Then another ping. 

    Sid: Grab his bag, I think it’s time we head home. 

    Relieved but still overwhelmed by parental worry, your hands shook as you picked up [Y/S/N]’s discarded bag of candy and began quickly making your way through the crowd.

    At home--a reasonably sized cabin-style house in the forested country outside of Gotham--you leaned against the bathroom door frame as you watched Sid take care of his and your son. [Y/S/N] sat on the closed toilet seat, wrapped in a hooded towel with his hair damp from the bath he’d finished a few minutes earlier but his fingers sticky from the partially melted candy bar he was currently eating, while Sid knelt in front of him. Having already patched up [Y/S/N]’s hands with brightly colored bandages, and bandages on the bridges of both their noses in speedster solidarity, Sid was working on double-checking [Y/S/N]’s knees for any stubborn flecks of dirt or debri that had refused to be scrubbed away in the bath. Seemingly satisfied, your partner’s concentrated scowl turned into a pleased smile, and he added a couple more bright bandages to your son’s collection. At the same time, [Y/S/N] finished his candy bar and Sid took an extra moment to wipe the excess chocolate from his fingers. 

    “Now,” he said, rising to his feet and smoothing the gathered wrinkles out of his sweater, “if you are capable of standing--”

    [Y/S/N] interrupted by half-jumping and half-falling off the toilet seat and landing in a superhero pose, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “Heroes are always capable of getting back up after a fight!”

    Sid shot an exasperated look your way, your reply being a snicker, before continuing “--and are willing to walk safely to your room to get dressed, we can put something on the television and eat some of our hard-earned winnings.”

    [Y/S/N] grinned and straightened his towel like a cape before trotting to the doorway where you stood. He briefly stopped, seeming to think about something, before he hugged you and nuzzled his face into your stomach. “Sorry for scaring you.”

    You and Sid shared a soft smile, then you ruffled the boy’s hair. “No problem, kiddo, you’ll get the hang of it soon. Besides, Halloween’s about spooks, isn’t it?”

    [Y/S/N] looked up at you with large eyes that matched your own and grinned again. He detached himself from you--you almost didn’t want to let him go--and you moved to let him pass, watching him as he began trotting down the hall to his room. 

    Then a different pair arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and you leaned back to rest your head on Sid’s shoulder. He nestled his own into your hair.

    “We did a good thing,” he mumbled, and you shivered slightly at the feeling of his warm breath. 

    “We did a great thing,” you replied, a goofy grin appearing on your face. You pointed down the hall, where [Y/S/N] paused to pull another candy from the hood of his towel--when did he hide those there?--before carrying on his way. “That thing? Great. A good thing right there.”

    Sid snorted. “Dork.”

    It was silent for a moment, two parents relishing in each other’s embrace and the idea of watching TV in a warm house with their child rather than running around outside until the late hours of the night. It was a warm and soft and safe little space the three of you inhabited together-- until the sound of your child’s footsteps began speeding up. Then they kept speeding up until you no longer heard them; instead you heard and felt a quick gust of wind, accompanied by a muffled crash--then an also muffled “I’m okay!”--coming from [Y/S/N]’s room at the end of the room. Normally such a sound would be concerning, but [Y/S/N] liked stuffed animals over any other toy and you and Sid had learned early on to make accommodations for your speedster son. While your heart still pounded, you were overall a lot less worried when it came to [Y/S/N] speeding around inside the house. 

    “Well that lasted a whole of a minute,” Sid said with a chuckle, releasing you from his embrace and starting down the hall; you whined at his leaving before smiling and trailing after him.

    “Can’t keep a hero down, I suppose.”

    “Yeah, what is it about that?” Sid questioned. “If he’s a superhero, why did he choose Dracula? Why not Batman or something?”

    “Because Batman is just a fursona, and also doesn’t have super speed,” you answered, then cackled at Sid’s confused look forming over the word ‘fursona.’ “It would have been really cool if he had dressed up as Batman, though, and then Batman saved him before he scared Harvey to death or something. Talk about meeting your heroes.”

    Sid’s confused look deepened, then turned into one of disbelief. “You don’t believe that Batman is real.”

    It was your turn to return the look of disbelief. “Of course he is?”

    “He’s so obviously a myth created by the GCPD to keep criminals in check. And failing miserably, might I add.”

    “Obviously?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of your head now. “You can be experimented on by a crazy doctor who literally brought people back to life, but Batman’s a myth?”

    “Who would call themselves Batman willingly?”

    “I mean, fair,” you paused, “but Penguin’s a genuine person.”

    “He didn’t call himself that willingly, though” Sid pointed out matter-of-factly. “He embraced the insult and made it his own. Plus, we’ve actually seen the Penguin.”

    “People have seen Batman too!”

    “Rumors and shadows.”

    You floundered for an argument, but the end result was your mouth opening and closing with no words coming out.

    Sid grinned, and you scowled. “You’re joking right now, aren’t you?”

    “No, he’s definitely not real,” Sid chirped, “You’re just cute, believing your ghost stories.”

    “He’s so totally real! And who says ghosts aren’t too?”

    This argument continued until the two of you reached [Y/S/N]’s room, where your son was already back on his feet and changing into a bat onesie. Naturally, he sided with you, and soon the two of you were able to force Sid to accept defeat.

[troublesometome]

shit my class says

this is gonna be a long ass post

Please don’t sign my right tit.

I don’t want to read that Emancipation Constipation bullshit!

Does your movie have Hugh Jackman?

I’d ask Phillipa Soo to sign my left tit.

I was born with hair inside my mouth.

He’s rubbing his Jesus on me!

I can barely eat a sandwich in the morning, do you think I can eat pussy?

That’s what becoming a porn star entitles!

I’m not shoving my fursona up my ass.

It’s called the ketchup from my hand.

You just have to explain how 2+2=5!

My dog is my rug.

This tastes so black!

Finger Bangers!

I take 30 showers every millisecond.

Am I a Big Mac now?

How do I turn black?

So you cook your baby?

A B C DICK!

I’m gonna amputate my ass!

I have a body pillow of myself.

You’re the drug dealers on Sesame Street!

I’m part of the homo mafia, give me your pickle!

There’s sanitizer in my visionary devices!

Rat tat tootie.

Michelle Obama is my brother!

MJ’s dying of overheation!

There’s alligators and Republicans here.

They sell Gatorade that looks like cum.

How long to boil corn?

I went to preschool while I was still in the womb!

Does milk turn you gay?

What’s an indentured servant? Someone without teeth?

Why is my leg not attached to my body?

I’ve been McSprayed.

Have you ever fucked a gazelle?

What if I want to be a stripper?

Do Cheerios still exist?

If anyone’s gonna fuck me, it’s gonna be me!

I have 5 billion wives!

I will kick your ass in the throat!

Does anyone have cocaine?

My resting heart rate registers as a... panic attack.

I never wear pants.

Did I make the titties too big?

Furries are hot.

Does anyone want pussy bread?

One minus... big.

You’re a hoe!

Can I shave my nostrils?

I LOVE ALCOHOL!

Women condoms.

Ding dong my ding dong.

Don’t talk to me about lap dances.

I like dick, I’m a witch!

Here comes the big toe!

John Adams was one thicc bih.

Anybody want to wango my mango?

My tits are NATURALLY stone hard.

A neutron is negative!

I AM CHILD OBESITY.

I love how we started the day talking about nipples.

So you lose your virginity to toilet paper?

I’m not gonna stop thinking about turtle dicks now...

Touch me!

I don’t want to fuck Queen Elizabeth II.

That’s my belt, beat me with it.

You only rub it.

It’s not that thick, but it’s pretty thick. Anyway, it’s thick.

Justin, how big is your fucking ass?

IT’S BUSTING!

Are you swimming in pussy?

These Teletubbies are thicc!

I’ll buy you a McGriddle if you fuck me.

Now you can eat my nut.

Can we stop talking about men breastfeeding, please?

All I heard was “electric charges” and “my vagina.”

You need to know the best time to slide it in!

Can you stop fucking me??

I’ve been dead since I was born.

Motherfucker! Ooh, Lord excuse my good Christian mouth.

Iffy? More like Yiff Me.

You use banana as dildo.

Bitch, I’m magical!

It’s a dick joke, Mackenzie!

It’s a long frog.

Settle down, Skeletor.

Be More Dill!

Ow, I slapped my thigh really hard.

I go to Sunday every church.

Give me a titty tot!

I want Jesus to uppercut me in the dick!

Did you just call Barack Obama hot??

Can we stop discussing three foot long dicks?

Give me liberty or give me dick!

No taxation without represation. Represention?

Bitch, tell me what nut is!

Hey, I’m feeling pretty gay today!

I will not be crushed by that double D ass, whatever the fuck that was.

You know what I lost? My dignity.

Take my fucking finger!

I see a man over a man and I am done here.

I wanna touch the big nose!

Kill a Chinese man??

Hey Grace, are you a thot?

I have eleven fingers.

It has lobsters on wheels.

Horny Cory?

I want to take me knee socks and hang myself with them.

Two plus two equals two!

If you die, I will kill you.

STOP SUCKING.

My pancreas hurts.

It smells like Play-Doh, what kind of pussy are you smelling?

My dick broke!

I saw the purple lady.

Why would you want to fuck a 30 year old loser?

B is for BITCH!

Casually jacking off in class??

Did you fuck Satan?

He ATE weed!?

What are that?

So we have two communists and a Nazi.

Damn it, vegans can’t suck dick!

Are you calling Ms. Macholl a thot?

Jefferson was a macaroni making pedophile.

Hey, no pissing in the hallway!

What the fuck is this mechanical, Transformer ass pencil?

His nose is bigger than my ego.

He’s 200 years older than me.. my baby boy...

He used to be so crispy.

Big jug hot cheese!

I’m pretty sure I’ve called at least four U.S presidents daddy.

Mimes are just domesticated clowns!

WHERE ARE YOUR NIPPLES?

Did you just say you’re low-key attracted to Captain Crunch?

I would fuck George Washington.

Stop caressing the robot genitalia!

Catholicism... it was democracy.

I wanna fuck Robocop!

Before you make fun of me, consider this: Charlie’s fucking hot!

If furries want to be animals, we should be legally allowed to hunt them and eat them.

WHY THE FUCK ARE ALL THE CARS PURPLE?!

Spagoot.

It’s a penis, a penis, and a ghost!

Search up hentai, I don’t like it.

Ha, there’s 3 of you!

Sam Houston can suck my ass!

[shsltakako-blog]

30 Facts about Takako Imai

wahey

(under the cut bc it’s Long)

Takako’s originally from Asahi, Osaka, though she moved to Shibuya, Tokyo about two years ago.

She speaks with a pretty mild Osaka accent.

This is her (English) voiceclaim.

She spends well over an hour getting ready every morning. Her self care routine may be rigorous and tedious but it’s given her really great skin.

If you’re her roommate you’ll probably hate her. She gets up at around 5am most days to shower and do her general Self Care Routine... which happens to be extremely loud. You’re probably not getting back to sleep until at LEAST 6:30.

On the other hand, she’s surprisingly really tidy! Takako’s living spaces are always neat and well-organised.. they also smell really nice. She usually wears some nice perfume and keeps air freshener around consistently (surprisingly, not lynx).

Her favourite colour is actually blue (because she’s secretly Blue Takako)

Takako speaks both Japanese and English.

She’s fluent in English, though she doesn’t really speak it much anymore.

Her favourite animals are rats! She’s got two pet rats at home and she loves her boys very much.

She has a fursona and it’s a rat alligator. Yes, a Rat Alligator. She thinks it’s adorable.

I associate her with the Wheel of Fortune arcana.

Takako has really pretty handwriting... She can write in a bunch of cute fonts like those aesthetic journal blogs on tumblr.

Takako’s got a big talent for handsewing and alterations. She’s really really fast at hand sewing and it’s very straight and even. She’s tall as hell and quite thin, so most clothes don’t fit her properly by default. She can also fix up unflattering cuts to make the clothing look 30x nicer (unless it’s like. from the early 2000s and unsalvagable).

She likes Jedward. She actually used to watch the eurovision every year until she was like 14.

Takako’s a pretty dang strong swimmer. She goes swimming pretty much every other day and she’s Buff now..

Takako owns exactly 26 red lipsticks. Most of them are darker shades.

Takako has this weird talent for finding lost valuables so if you lost a fancy gold ring it’s a pretty solid idea to ask her to find it for you (she’ll probably charge you though)

Her favourite beer is Dutch Gold but her favourite drink in general is vodka.

Her hair is naturally dirty blonde! She dyed it to red-black about two years ago... though before that it was dyed blue-black.

She once got kicked out of a Nando’s for dancing on a table.

Takako’s really (mock) expressive.. She hams it up a lot to piss people off.

Her favourite food is tempura, the opposite of Kayo who absolutely DESPISES tempura.

Despite this, Takako tries to eat healthy. She’s pretty good at making Healthy Meals for herself but she gets lazy pretty often, and tends to indulge in “guilty pleasures” of hers (read: lying in bed eating like 17 packets of M&Ms).

I say “guilty pleasure” because she’s so confident and shameless it’s hard for her to feel guilty about doing anything.

Takako exudes an aura of confidence, confidence is key after all lol. She knows it makes her look like 300% better than she already did.

Her favourite musical is, unsurprisingly, Heathers. She’s also seen Hi Tops (she also likes Bonnie & Clyde a lot, it’s just not really her #aesthetic)

One time Takako was really really fucking drunk and was given a dare to lie down in wet cement and leave an imprint. She actually did it the absolute madman.

Takako is really easy to get to go along with... pretty much ANYTHING. Let her tag along to anything wild you’re doing... though she herself is probably instigating wild shit.

Her favourite weather is stormy with torrential rain, if she’s already wet she really doesn’t care about getting more wet so she just likes to stay outside in and chill