#fuzzballs animation

[thefuzzyballs]

creature

[joyousjoyfuljoyness]

Number 24 of the Close Encounters Collection, "Floof"!

[kitticaturday]

[jecembuary]

Objectified if it existed in 2018 ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[cheesycookster]

I think they could be friends

[extrashortshorts]

I fucking love this au WHAT IS CORA-SAN IF HE ISNT DONE YET I NEED TO KNOW RAHHHHH

i've been enlightened about possibility that he could be a black swan

[james-p-sullivan]

Were you kissing my hand!?

[genshinyear]

Helluva Boss Impasto – Blitzo Fiery Portrait Canvas Print

[artbyifer]

California Quail

This fuzzball was suggested by my aunt. I think it looks pretty recognizeable. I am wondering how I would do a bird whose most reconizeable features were on its wings or small tail.

Posted using PostyBirb

[thefuzzyballs]

What in tarnation is Fuzzballs???

Howdy!

We're a small group of high schoolers trying to make a student film for AAHSFF! Here we are crazy about cats, cowboys, and cowboys that are cats. Hoping to entertain with the silly guys in our heads. {Director/ Animator/ Schemer VA} @gay-trashcan-cat

{Co-Director / Animator} @oniofiend

{Bandita VA / Creature} @womfolio

{Rodeo Clown} @greenheronhive

{Composer} @soyandpeas

This is the official blog for Fuzzballs featuring progress shots, comics, and silly art as we continue working on the film.

We also have a youtube channel make sure to check us out there!

[marlynnofmany]

Fuzzy Eggs

After several deliveries that we had to cross alien terrain for, it was nice to have a client actually meet us at the ship for pickup. We didn’t even have to leave the spaceport, small though it was.

“I can’t wait to try this out,” said the green lizardy guy as he tapped away at the payment tablet. “The advertising promises it will repel any small pest with a sense of hearing, and the last three repellents we tried did nothing.”

I asked, “What kind of pest?” (Was I about to find a hard downside to meeting someone right outside the airlock? I really didn’t want any kind of infestation on our ship.)

The guy handed the tablet back and gestured vaguely. “Round furry things. I don’t know what planet they’re from, but they could easily overrun this one if we don’t get a handle on the situation fast. The colony’s already having to keep every window and door shut, but they slip through the tiniest cracks. At least they’re wildly colored and easy to spot before they eat all your food.”

Mur tentacle-walked over with the package, holding it up like he was a squid-shaped butler with a tray of champagne. He gave me a look as the client snatched it up eagerly. “Well, animal expert?” he asked me. “Any insights?”

I shrugged. “Sounds like rodents from Earth, though ours aren’t usually wildly colored. And I have my doubts that a product exists that makes noises to repel every kind of pest. Especially without also repelling the people who set it up.”

The client was already ripping open the box. “Gonna find out. I see a few of the fuzzy little food thieves over there.” He jerked his snout toward a cluster of bushes at the edge of the landing pad.

I’d thought the puffs of color on the ground were other plants, but now that I really looked, they were moving. All in wild pinks and blues, too. Exceptionally fluffy.

Paint came trotting up. “The captain says we should close the door as soon as possible. Apparently there’s a known pest in the spaceport. Oh, hi.” She greeted the client as an afterthought.

He mumbled something polite back, more interested in getting the gadget to work than in greeting another of his own species. He hadn’t stepped back far enough for us to shut the door yet.

Mur peered past him suspiciously. “Did those things come here by stowing away on another ship?”

“Probably,” the client said. Then something clicked. “Aha!”

There might have been a noise. I couldn’t really tell. General spaceport sounds and local breeze made a background ambiance, but I kind of felt like there was something I should have been able to hear. Almost. A glance at Paint and Mur showed similar non-reactions. The fuzzballs by the bush did nothing.

“WHAT is that SOUND?” demanded Zhee, sticking his bug eyes around the corner. He had his pinchers clenched and his posture lower than usual, like he was crouching to make the sound quieter. I still didn’t know where his ears were. “Kindly stop it!”

“Sorry.” The client produced another click, apparently turning it off. “At least I know that it came fully charged. I’ll go test it on the fuzzball invasion.”

Zhee had already picked up a foreleg to continue down the hallway, but he paused at that. “What kind of fuzzballs?”

The client launched into an explanation, but I just pointed at the bush. “Those things over there. Lots of them, apparently.”

Zhee hurried over for a look, nearly knocking Paint off her feet. He sounded absolutely delighted when he exclaimed, “This planet has Egg Day?”

Blank looks all around. I asked, “Egg Day?”

He clicked a pincher arm and spoke quickly, like he was explaining something blindingly obvious that we all should know. “Mesmer holiday. The fuzz eggs emerge all at once — the first wave, anyway — and culling the population is great sport.” He addressed the client with an intense look. “These are an invasion you’d like to be rid of, yes?”

“Yes,” the client said in surprise. “They’re—”

Zhee was already turning away from him and talking to Mur. “Tell the captain to wait a little. We’re not in a hurry.” He looked at Paint. “Don’t tell Trrili.” Then he dashed out onto the landing pad, purple exoskeleton gleaming in the sun, a spectacle of predatory joy.

I’d made a step towards the hallway at one point, with thoughts of putting the payment tablet away, and an ominous voice hissed over my shoulder. “Don’t tell Trrrrrili what?”

I flinched a little, and pretended I hadn’t. “Hi there. Something about Egg Day?”

The tilt of her antennae and the flare of glossy black mandibles looked offended. “And he wanted a head start? The cheater!” She launched herself past all of us in a whirlwind of black and red. Paint thumped against the wall and the client nearly dropped the gadget.

Outside, Zhee already had a pile of crumpled furballs at his feet, and he was excavating the bushes for more. Trrili charged past him to upend a wheeled cart and expose the cluster of rainbow fur underneath. She put her praying mantis pinchers to their intended purpose, all the while bickering with Zhee about unsporting head starts.

The rest of us stared from the doorway.

“Oh my,” said the client.

Mur picked up some stray packing foam and handed it to him to put back in the box. “Those two ought to make a dent in your infestation,” he said. “And I daresay we can pass the word on to any other Mesmers nearby to come join the fun. Depending on the scale of the problem.”

“That … might be a good idea. Thank you.”

Eggskin appeared with a medkit, looking concerned. “What’s happening? I heard something about wanton violence.”

I hurried to reassure them. “Nothing to worry about. Just pest control. And a competition, apparently.”

Eggskin peered outside, shading their pale-scaled face from the sun. “Oh, Egg Day!”

Paint demanded, “You know about that?”

“Sure, it’s a Mesmer holiday,” Eggskin said, setting down the medkit. “Looks like somebody accidentally introduced the fuzz eggs here, huh? They leave egg cases in every hiding place they can find, and you usually don’t suspect a thing until they emerge all at once like that. Good thing we brought a couple of Egg Day veterans with us.”

The client was still clutching the box of electronics, wide-eyed. “They mentioned calling in more?”

“Probably wise,” Eggskin said. “We’ll have to be on our way before too long.” They picked up the medkit again. “Speaking of which, I should make sure we have enough storage space in the refrigeration unit, since they’ll want to eat every one of those.”

I shook my head. “This is a far cry from Easter when I was a kid. Though we did get to eat the hard-boiled eggs. And the ones that had candy inside. None of those took much of a battle to open, though. Well, except for the really little kids who weren’t strong enough yet.”

Paint looked up at me in consternation. “Your species has the same violent holiday as theirs?”

“Ours isn’t violent,” I said. “Unless kids fight over who saw an egg first, I guess. And there is that one noteworthy bit of lore that features a violent death, but that’s just part of the story behind it all. The actual event is totally different from this.” I watched my coworkers seek out brightly-colored round things in every little crevice about the spaceport. “Totally different.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[kitticaturday]

Awe. He/she looks identical to our old kitten, Elvis. Elvis electrocuted himself by chewing on wires while we were on vacation. Poor baby fried himself to death. He was such a sweet cuddly guy.

[ducksido]

Haii! Im here to bother u again😝😝😝😝😝 okay imagine this, Idia🤤 with a gothic reader who hates the outside world as much as Idia does, so they also attend school as a magical crow (Brian for once working🤭), okay basically it’s just a regular day, reader’s crow is listening to the alchemy lesson when the one day Idia pops up in class, someone in the class makes a potion explode and now Idia ´s a cat (uno reverse) so Idia runs to reader and reader in all their gothic calm amazing glory takes care of kitty Idia yayayayayayayayayyayayayayayayayayayyayayayayayyyayayayayaayyayayayayayayayayayayayayaayayayayayyaayayayyayay

The alchemy room buzzes with cauldrons boiling and students pretending to care. Perched high on a wooden beam, your glossy black feathers shimmer in the low candlelight. As a magical crow, you blend in with the shadows, watching the chaos below with passive disinterest. Grim often mutters about being replaced as NRC’s main animal companion—but he couldn’t match your gothic elegance if he tried.

You hated the outside world. Too loud, too bright, too peppy. So this crow form was your perfect out—quiet, hidden, detached from the expectations of socializing, and conveniently skipping the need for group projects. Professor Crewel let it slide, mostly because you always aced the theory work and also possibly because you once stared him down in your human form for too long without blinking.

But today was... different.

The door creaked open. Heads turned. You cocked your feathery head, mildly intrigued.

Idia Shroud had entered the classroom.

In the flesh.

Not via tablet. Not via hologram. Physically there.

He was hunched over, hoodie up, practically blending into the shadows like you usually did. Your feathers ruffled slightly. What was he doing here? Did he lose a bet?

But the answer would come sooner than expected.

Some half-witted alchemy student added powdered phoenix feather instead of fire salamander scale. There was a flash, a BANG, and then—

“MEOW??!”

The smoke cleared. The class gasped.

On the floor, where Idia had once stood, was now a fluffball of cursed adorableness.

A Selkirk Rex cat with messy, curly fur like a ball of smoke—tinted an ethereal indigo-blue and licked with ghostly flame along the tufts. His wide yellow eyes flicked around in horror, and his little kitty mouth opened to yowl—

But then he bolted.

Straight up the walls. Straight across beams.

Straight into you.

He barreled into your crow form like a flame-furred comet, and you flapped slightly in surprise before steadying. Idia—now a magical blue flame cat—clung to your side like his life depended on it.

A pause.

He blinked up at you with wide, panicked eyes.

You blinked back, slow and calm.

Then, still in your crow form, you gave a low, throaty caw of “sigh.” The universal goth noise of “I guess I’m handling this now.”

With eerie grace, you fluttered down to the floor and shifted back into your human form. The class gasped again, but you ignored them. All eyes were on you now—gothic robes trailing, heavy boots thudding, eyes lined with smudged black makeup, and an aura that screamed “don’t speak to me if you value your life.”

Cradling the trembling blue fire-fuzzball in your arms, you turned to Crewel.

“I’ll take responsibility for this one,” you intoned flatly.

Crewel blinked. Then sighed. “Very well. Just don’t let him set anything on fire.”

Back in your room...

The dorm was dark, curtains drawn, lit only by the soft hum of black flame candles and the flicker of your favorite haunted lamp. Gothic posters lined the walls. A bone-shaped incense holder smoldered faintly. It was quiet. Peaceful. Home.

On your lap, Idia curled into a ball of blue curls and gentle fire. He twitched his little whiskers as you brushed through his fur with a comb you conjured just for him. He hissed once—reflex—but then let out a begrudging purr.

“You make a surprisingly cute cat,” you said, voice dry, a rare smirk tugging at your lips.

He let out an offended meep and rolled onto his back, staring up at you with mortified golden eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I wouldn’t dare tell Ortho you made biscuits on my cloak earlier.”

The loudest cat groan echoed through the room.

Still, he stayed there. On your lap. Safe. Warm. Surrounded by darkness and someone who understood him—someone who hated the sun, crowds, and mornings just as much as he did.

For once in his life, Idia Shroud didn’t mind being around someone else.

Even if he was a cat for the time being.

You scratched under his flaming chin. He purred like a broken video game console.

The dorm room was still as shadowed and cozy as ever, lit only by dim lanterns and a flickering TV playing some obscure JRPG’s cutscene on mute. Incense swirled lazily in the air, curling around the edges of a spell circle chalked into the floor—half-finished, abandoned in favor of more important matters.

Like the sentient blue puffball curled in your lap.

You lounged lazily on your bed, black silk robe draped over your shoulders, heavy boots kicked off to the side. Idia—still a blue-flame Selkirk Rex—was stretched across your thighs like a spoiled little prince of darkness, his fiery fur faintly glowing against your monochrome aesthetic.

He’d been surprisingly docile, purring so hard at one point that your entire lap vibrated.

Of course, you had to take advantage of the moment.

Your black lipstick glinted faintly as you leaned down and kissed the top of his little flamey head.

“Smooch.”

He blinked. Then let out a soft, confused mrowl.

You kissed him again. Once between the ears. Once on his chubby cheek. Once near his twitchy little nose.

“Smooch. Smooch. Smooooch~”

Each kiss left a black lip-print on his blue-tinged fur. Like gothic seals of affection. Marks of adoration.

His tail started twitching wildly, like a meter slowly maxing out his embarrassment stat.

You tilted your head. “Aww. You’re all covered in love now, poor thing.”

Idia let out a muffled mrphhh, half-limp in your arms, half-melting from the attention and affection.

And then—

FWOOOSH!

A bright blue light engulfed him. Your arms instinctively tightened to hold him in place.

And when the light faded...

He was no longer a cat.

Idia Shroud—gangly limbs, hoodie, and all—was now awkwardly sprawled in your lap, blinking rapidly, entire body frozen in a crash-reboot of social anxiety.

...Covered in black lipstick marks.

One on his forehead. One just above his jawline. One on his neck. Several on his cheek. You counted seven in total from your perch beneath him.

And his hair—

It was pink. Flaming hot pink. A blushing bonfire, complete with flickering sparks of mortification.

“A-A-AH?! W-WHY—WHO—ME???”

His voice cracked hard enough to shatter your lamp. He scrambled but failed to escape, since your arms were still loosely wrapped around him.

You blinked up at him, calm as ever.

“You turned human again. While in my lap. After I covered you in kisses.” You dragged a finger up his cheek, smearing one of the lipstick prints like you were signing your name.

“That’s on you, babe.”

“B-BABE???!?!” he squeaked, voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. He clutched his hoodie drawstrings like they were a lifeline.

“Your fur was soft. You were cute. I was emotionally vulnerable,” you said deadpan. “So obviously I had to smother you in affection. That’s just what one does with magically cursed cats who panic and hide in their goth crush’s lap.”

“G-GOTH CRUSH—????! ERROR—!! STOP—!! BLUE SCREEN—!!”

He turned an even deeper shade of pink as you reached up and plucked another lipstick mark off his nose with your thumb.

“You’ll survive.” You smirked. “Unless you burst into flames. Which, judging by your hair, might actually happen.”

He buried his face in your shoulder with a pained wheeze. “I’m never showing my face in public again…”

You patted his back comfortingly. “Good. Neither do I.”

[cheesycookster]

all good things will find their end

[0nonjudgement0]

ꕥ Ring of Thorns ꕥ

Chapter 2: Go Back From Wence Ye’ Came! (Do You Remember That Movie Too?)

Masterlist // Chapter 1

WC: 815

CW: John Price is a shitty husband

It’s only 8:06 am when you wake up, meaning you won’t have to lie to any of the other women in your small town. Well, at least not about what time you woke up. Carefully, you touch the spot beside you. Its blankets have also been pulled down, and it’s warm. He slept on the same bed as you, but not with you. He probably joined long after you had gone to bed, and left long before you woke up. His duffle bag still lays where he put it last night.

It’s 10:30 am when you finish getting ready. “Getting ready” includes taking a shower, letting the water boil you for almost an hour, get out, pull and pluck at any hair, pimple, blackhead, or bump for another hour, do your hair, even if you’re not going out, and get dressed. 

It’s 10:45 am when you finish feeding the two cats and start breakfast when he comes downstairs, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, both being the same green as his military-issued clothing. It’s become a staple in his closet. He shaved too, probably in the guest bathroom. It had become his bathroom after he started a fight about how much stuff you had in the bathroom—“This is what you spend my fuckin’ money on?”

He had never noticed that it was all for him. The serums, the moisturizers, the shaving, all to make sure you stayed nice for him. It was pathetic, really. You never expected yourself to be so tied and dedicated to a man. 

He hadn’t—still didn’t—care. Shattering glass sounded a lot like gunshots. You still had a piece of glass stuck in your foot from cleaning it up, but it at least gave you something to do. It’s not like any of it hit you.

“Whatcha makin’?” he hums. You wait for the sweetheart to be tacked onto the end. It’s quiet enough to hear him scratching the coarse hair on his beard. 

The sweetheart doesn’t come.

“I’m not sure yet,” you reply, looking down at the singular sliver of butter sliding around in the pan. 

Another hum from him, more condescending. Your throat tightens. 

“Would you like some tea?” you offer.

“No, I’ll boil some. You make it too sweet every time,” he scolds, followed by the sound of  him rustling through the pantry and cabinets. That's what has replaced sweetheart.

Your heart squeezes, threatening to blow apart and lodge itself in every muscle fiber.

Excusing yourself to grab eggs from the chicken coop, you weep for a moment with the feathery animals as they worriedly cluck around you. Don’t weep, they pray. You don’t even have to give us carrot scraps.

It’s a silent breakfast. The omelets on each of your plates seemed to be the most interesting thing. Two-face and Dolly gather under the table, asking for a piece of bacon and a lick of cooked egg. They both migrate away from John when he shoos them away. You look down at the pair, their pleas quieting into solemn small talk, before looking up at John. He catches your eye, mid sip of orange juice. His movement doesn’t pause, following through with the swing of setting the glass back down. 

In another life, far from here, in central London, both of the fuzzballs would be climbing on him to lick at his beard to try and bargain for another piece after getting full plates. He’d sneak them more treats after. It was hard to believe that ever happened. 

It’s 11:45 am when you're washing dishes after breakfast that you give them each a full piece of bacon. The tears start before you can stop them when they both just stare and bat at it, Dolly giving a solemn mewl. I’m not hungry, she whispers. We already ate anyway, Two-face adds.

The rest of the day is a flurry of nothingness; pacing and fixing picture frames, folding blankets over and over, readjusting the rugs. John stays in his office, surrounded by the walls whispering  back his incessant murmurings. 

It’s 10:56 pm and you're refolding everything in your drawer, when a piece of indigo and sunshine peaks through from the bottom of one of the drawers. Pinching the pieces of lace together, folding the yellow over the midnight, turning light blue into magenta, all you can see are pansies. That's why he got you this set. 4th anniversary, covered in black and blue, hands frazzled to patch up the holes in the bruisingly bare fabric, as he called you his flower and peeled away your shame

He clears his throat behind you. Carefully, your feet shift to face him. His gaze lands on the set, then to your stomach, and thighs, the lingering cellulite and blemishes, the tissue made of lipids.

The set ends up crumpled in the very corner of your sock drawer again.

[genshin-obsessed]

Could I request Neuvilette and his s/o playing with cats?

「✧」 the second I saw this request, i knew exactly what I was gonna have in it lmao and that's rare nowadays i hope you like it <;333

Adorable

"Aren't you the cutest little baby? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Oh, look at your fuzzy little baby face, I just wanna squish it, and smooch it, and give you all the scritches in the world-"

"I really don't think the cat can you understand you, my love." Neuvillette said as he stood to the side, watching you fawn over the new kitten you'd just adopted.

"But look at her face, Neuvie! It's just the most adorable thing in the world!" You squealed as you held out the little kitten to him. Neuvillette stood there for a moment, before relenting and walking over, crouching down beside you. You pushed the kitten towards his face, watching as his cyan eyes fell upon the fuzzball.

"Well, I wouldn't say the most adorable thing in the world, but she's definitely a close second." He said as his gloved hand reached out to gently pet the kitten, that just let out a small meow. You quickly handed over the kitten, watching as Neuvillette panicked for a moment before gingerly taking the animal in his large hands.

"Well, I simply disagree." You said as you looked down, petting the top of the kitten's head with your finger. Neuvillette's eyes landed on your face and softened as he smiled a little. Of course, you would disagree. You didn't understand just how adorable you were in his eyes.

"I see why you're a lover of cats. They're cute and... calming." He said as he continued to pet the small kitten. It wasn't long before a couple other joined, meowing and pawing at you two for some attention as well. "Oh, they come in groups-" Neuvillette was interrupted as he fell from his crouched position as one of your larger cats jumped on him. He was careful to protect the small kitten before laughing a little.

"Are you ok?" You giggled as you helped him up a little, watching as he happily obliged to the other cat. "You're a magnet!"

"Well, I suppose I do have some time to spare." And that short break he had from work quickly turned into two hours of playing with the cats.