#that that was what u were referencing

[2018-01-20]

i want a kiss from gojo... so: maybe u could do buying matching plushies with yuuji? or getting matching plushies from a claw machine w megumi?

pairing. megumi fushiguro × gn!reader

content. fluff, read slowly for maximum enjoyment!

megumi fushiguro isn’t commonly considered as someone who is weak, but for you he feels like he is.

“this is so cute!” you gasp, spotting a plushie that is more than three times the size of your head inside a crane machine. it’s a cat stuffed animal in your favorite color, the cuteness of it making you press your hands up against the glass with eyes sparkling in complete awe. megumi can practically hear the gears turning and creaking in your head. “oh my god, should i try to get it?”

“there is no way that that’s possible,” nobara scoffs in disbelief, but you know that she’s only saying that to pull you away before you end up falling too deep and spending all of your money. “you know that this place is notorious for its super weak claws, right?”

“but it’s also popular for its cute prizes, y’know,” you whine in response, tugging on her sleeve to get her to come closer. “look at how cute it is! right, megumi?”

when the both of you turn towards said boy—you with hopeful eyes that reminds megumi of a puppy, and nobara with a demonic glare to get him to stop your nonsense—he freezes, eyes unable to peel away from your bright face. itadori snickers from beside him, already knowing his answer.

and for megumi, there is no other choice but to give in.

“...it is cute,” he mumbles, looking away to avoid nobara’s expression of disbelief.

“see, nobara?” you grin evilly. “do you really have no faith in me? i can easily win against one of these bad guys.”

“you can go right ahead, but we all know you have the worst luck out of all four of us,” nobara sighs out, hiding a smile after that little dig. you play along, letting out a dramatic gasp. “your chances of winning is worse than itadori’s.”

the both of you sputter out an offended, “hey!” you huff, all riled up. but you know that nobara is at least partly right.

“fine,” you eventually hmph at her, and she puts her hands on her hips with a grin. “now i’ll get that plush just to spite you.”

“oh yeah?” she retorts. “with your horrible crane machine skills?”

“nope,” you stick a tongue out at her, and when you sidestep her to reach the boy behind her, megumi feels dread overcome his body. “megumi—”

“that’s cheating!” it’s nobara’s turn to gasp, turning towards you with a distraught face. “you know fushiguro won’t say no to you!”

“gu-umi,” you continue on, ignoring nobara’s accusations in hopes that your begging towards the boy in front of you will get him to say yes to you. (spoiler: it does.) “can you help me get that cat plushie? pleasee?”

you clasp your hands together in a begging motion, unashamed of losing your dignity in order to achieve what you know will earn you victory. you blink repeatedly, staring at megumi through your eyelashes with a pout adorning your lips.

megumi’s adam apple bobs—your attentive gaze makes his mind go blank and his cheeks warm, and while nobara would call your current expression atrocious, he can’t help but think that it’s a bit cute. although megumi fushiguro is no cat lover and would very much prefer the matching dog plushie next to the kitty one that you adore, he takes one more look at your face and sighs.

“...okay.” is all he simply says. but seeing your face light up and smile widen is more than enough for him.

[arielluva]

instagram monster high fans complaining about g3 again while also knowing nothing about the g1 that they want back so badly

"frankie and cleo are meant to be ENEMIES!!!" what? 😭 maybe for like. new ghoul in school they were. but have you seen anything else from g1? they become friends after that

[vyacinths]

sunhats on! 🌼🌷

[batsplat]

welcome back casey stoner !

https://www.tumblr.com/verdemint/761549873456775168/same-interview-they-asked-him-how-does-he-deal

(link)

asjddkh SEE this is what I'm talking about!! something about those incredibly neurotic ducati champions, eh. in the post linked above, pecco's talking about how he deals with media pressure... which, yeah, pecco and casey really do share a fair bit of competitive dna there - from the insistence that it doesn't affect them whatsoever to how they do in fact get extremely pissy whenever they feel misrepresented by the media. very sensitive to that kind of thing, those two are... but at the same time they're also both their own harshest critics. from casey's autobiography (all quickly nabbed from this post, which ofc expands on casey's perfectionism):

I got a lot of criticism over the years for being honest because I always felt I could do better. Even if I won the race, if I had made mistakes it was important for me to admit them and address them for next time instead of congratulating myself for being the best on that particular day.

and:

Whatever challenges I take on now I am still driven by the same quest to improve - I can’t change who I am. As a personality trait this is both a good thing and a bad thing. I like that part of me but it would be nice to not be like that sometimes, to enjoy something without being obsessed with getting better at it. I am sure you can go through life a lot happier if you don’t analyse everything.

versus pecco:

The strength that I've proved in various situations comes from the fact that I am extremely critical of myself, and so it only takes a little bit for me to put myself down even more.

like yeah I suppose that's one way of looking at it - nobody else can get to you if you're already tearing into yourself. it's a motivational process that's very much built on negativity, right, on the need to live up to their own exacting standards. both pride themselves for their ability to put failures behind them quickly - to be able to immediately bounce back because they tell themselves they only care about doing better in the next race. plus, there's that interesting dynamic where both are like... pretty big on this idea they're not making excuses for themselves, committed to honestly assessing themselves and all that,, BUT also have reputations for being whiny to the press... because people for whatever reason end up thinking they're constantly blaming everything but themselves for their shortcomings. again, very prone to feeling misunderstood!! neither of them are necessarily terrible communicators - but there's a certain reluctance there (obviously more so from casey) to even play that game at all. mix in a learned wariness because they feel like they've been burned before.... that whole pecco episode last year where he said one reason for the increased injury rate is probably because the field is tighter now (which, yes! seems logical!) ,,, and then some unholy combination of clumsy phrasing, media framing and an ungenerous fan response ended up translating that to pecco saying he wanted satellite bikes to be slower again... gave me real casey vibes lol. casey had a fair few of those episodes himself - though at least the news cycle and social media fandom weren't quite as bad back then. in a lot of ways he'd struggle even more nowadays

also,, you do have to mention - they both end up defining themselves against valentino specifically when it comes to their public personas. casey might be the rival and pecco the mentee, but both of them have been clear that they do not desire to be the next valentino rossi. kinda what I said here, right

idk, obviously pecco had a heads-up a little earlier than casey did that sensibly communicating to the media WAS going to be a big part of the job. but there's still a wariness there, an unwillingness to be something they're not, knowing that they'd be miserable trying to match valentino's particular brand of flamboyance... it is key that it is a choice they're making. they just don't want that for themselves, never have. there's only ever so much outreach they're willing to do

also this

“Stoner and Bagnaia are two different riders, but they have the same mental attitude,” Tardozzi told AS. “I think Pecco is still growing. He already took a big leap by winning the championship, but the biggest jump in his head has been done this year, after the two falls in Argentina and Austin. “He is an intelligent boy and has spoken a lot with the team, and what happened has made him take another step to make him even more of a champion. Now he has the right mentality. Pecco will become one of the greats. Right now it is showing that he is growing, as I told you before."

'resilience' is I think a word I associate quite strongly with both of them. they take their fair share of punches, do tend to get called mentally fragile a lot - but in truth there's a steel there that serves them well. did talk a little bit about the similarities of their motivational processes here too:

and

and one other thing I've been thinking about is that this... y'know, use of spite, of self-criticism, of how annoyed they get at others' criticisms - for both of them, it is also paired with a determined refusal to countenance they could be mentally affected by anything. with casey in particular, it's a bit of an overcorrection in response to how often he was described as mentally weak; it's understandable you might get extremely sensitive about the whole thing, if you weren't already. a lot of it is also stubbornness... a bone-deep contrarianism that immediately makes them push back if somebody suggests they might struggle for any reason related to psychology. where this really jumps out is how they talk about their rivals. obviously, nobody is going to say that their opponent's mind games work on them because that'd be deeply stupid to admit - but there is something about pecco's firm insistence marc's mind games don't have a hope of working on him that is really reminiscent of how casey has talked about valentino. it's that dynamic of ,, well, they're not wrong in that they're stronger than people give them credit for, but obviously they are also. like. extremely defensive, past the point of necessarily being reasonable. sometimes, what your rival does will affect you. that's kinda how rivalries work lol. but both of them are very committed to this narrative that their working process is super self-directed. casey's whole thing about how he's never gotten obsessed with rivals, pecco's 'we work in silence' schtick... it comes back round to the relationship with the media, right, where they have a natural inclination towards framing that as an oppositional dynamic - and automatically chafe against any narratives that might be externally imposed on them. actually, you see, rivals don't affect their performance at all, they don't need to constantly slobber to the press to hype up their performances, they'll do their talking on-track... but the unspoken truth there is that all of those things do matter, they are paying a lot of attention - and in the end, 'proving a point' to someone becomes a central part of the motivational process. they hear all the criticisms, they seethe in 'silence' (often involves a fair bit of public complaining but let's allow it), and then they determinedly show how all their critics were fools and losers. rinse and repeat

anyway yeah apparently that's part of the ducati magic - a dash of neuroticism, a heavy dose of self-flagellation, inject a desire for authenticity that might at times read as whiny, stir in the makings of a persecution complex and top it off with a sprinkling of spite. probably not the easiest type of guy to handle, but clearly there's something to the formula. a compelling approach to be sure

[heatwa-ves]

self portrait of the day lol.. Not sure how I feel about it but it does look like me so there's that

[neurotonic]

Some Roxanix for the soul ^^

Get well soon :]

@enhanced-operatives-division

OMGGG THIS IS SO CUTE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THE SILLIES.. Phoenix giving her the drinks yes... taking care of her is so cutes.. Look at this she's very happy

[puhpandas]

you know the content drought is bad when you think about content from over a year ago and still get excited

[neolxzr]

assorted hiiais

[kideternity]

Whilst I don’t deny that Kamen Rider 71 is just like in general a very silly show in a lot of regards it seems very strange to me the idea that like it was ever like a Stupid show. Or like written stupidly. I would actually argue that KR71 is often times a very smartly written and earnestly written show. It’s very open about its anti-imperialist slash anti fascist themes and will through writing and production showcase its understanding of the harm those systems cause as well as slash in conjunction to that provide allegories to the real world methods it utilises to hurt people. And on a more general note it just takes the characters and plots for the most part Very seriously it takes their journeys and their actions Seriously. It doesn’t diminish or insult their emotions or their intellect or them just trying in the first place. There’s things you can and should criticise in various different aspects but I genuinely would not consider it a bad show at all which I feel like is common or was common for people who didn’t want to give Toku media a chance usually do slash did- like, arguments about how the Goofiness or Corniness Automatically Made it Bad in some way. Idk Im just saying words probably don’t consider me an authority on this but It’s how I feel

[mifunebooty]

This mitchum madness is like when u have a few puffs of smoking and move on then go fuck I should've got more the next few days with regret

[whispers-of-masser]

Poor Form

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, maybe angst (if you squint), slow-burn with tension; 2k+ word count ✧ Mentions of blood, (poorly written) fantasy violence ♫ "Ritual" - AWAY, Echos ✒ @dalishthunder come take responsibility for this

It was the grey hour when you woke, the quiet lull between full night and the oncoming dawn. From where you lay in the tent, the only sounds you could hear were the steady breaths of your companions, the breeze rustling by outside, and the lone call of a bird, faint and dim in the distance.

Slowly, you sat up, grimacing at your sore neck and shoulders – though you had long since grown accustomed to sleeping on the ground, that didn't mean you, or your body, appreciated it. You'd have to look into getting some bed cots instead. Until then, though...

At least we stay warm through the night. The oiled leather tent kept out most of the wind, and the beasts you'd felled along the journey had long since become the bedding everyone slept on.

A sudden snore drew your attention to where Khash lay, bundled in her sleeping bag beside you, red eyes shut tight and jaw slightly parted, her sharp little teeth on display. Across from her was Xelzaz, sleeping quietly on his side with his back turned towards you; you could just make out the lump of his tail beneath the blankets. And next to him...

...was an empty bed roll, the fur still fluffed, apparently untouched through the night.

Frowning, you pushed back the blankets, habitually reaching for your sword as you rose – just in case, always just in case – and, taking care not to wake Khash, crawled quietly out of the tent.

The morning had teeth. You felt it the moment you stepped outside, the cold biting into your bare arms, gnawing through the fabric of your tunic and raising goosebumps across your skin. Your breath plumed white amidst the grey, and the dirt underfoot was cold and hard; not even the morning dew had loosened it. You found yourself wanting retreat back into the tent and burrow under your furs once more, pulling them all the way over your head and falling asleep beneath their warmth. Any other morning, you might have done just that. But...

The empty, untouched bedroll.

You squinted into the mist, eyes searching, searching... there. A figure, seated on a rock several metres away, smudged and blurred in the gloom, but glinting a familiar gold.

As you lowered your sword, a sigh slipped from your lips, drawn from some strange mix of frustration, concern, and relief.

"...How long have you been out here, Nebarra?"

"Morning to you too, guar-face," the elf drawled, and though he didn't rise, his helmeted head turned towards you. A thin layer of condensation covered the metal, droplets falling at his movement; his bangs, escaping through the visor, were damp and plastered to his helm. "And all night, to answer your question. Somebody has to keep watch."

"Obviously. But you volunteered for the first shift last night." Frowning, you looked him up and down, not bothering to mask your concerned displeasure. "Why didn't you wake me or Xelzaz? We could have relieved you. We were supposed to relieve you."

"Oh yes, a human and a lizard! I'm certain I'd feel very safe with you two on watch. Your species' eyesight is so much better than an Altmer's, after all."

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing as you stared him down. It was too early in the morning for his snark.

Wordlessly, you brought up your sword and levelled it at his throat. "I can see that gap in your armor just fine. I could kill you right now – and the same goes for whatever may have come up on us in the night."

Nebarra gave a disdainful snort, gloved hand clamping down on your blade and giving a sharp tug. Unprepared, reflexes still sluggish from sleep, you stumbled a whole two steps forward before managing to check yourself.

"Poor form," the elf sneered. "You won't be killing anything like that."

Your nostrils flared, a dozen retorts surging to your lips, but you held them all in.

He's right, and you both know it.

"I wasn't ready", "I'm still waking up", "I wasn't serious" – excuses that could get you, and maybe the others, killed. How long had Nebarra seen this in you? Why was he only mentioning it now? Why hadn't you realised it on your own, that despite your confidence, your skills, your strength – you were still very much mortal? And when had that confidence become something more dangerous – arrogance?

"...What?" Nebarra asked suddenly, drawing you from your reverie. "You have that expression again. The one where you're about to do something stupid."

"Spar with me."

"Terrible idea, absolu... wait. What?"

"Spar with me," you repeated, staring into the black of his visor. "I'm getting rusty, fighting nothing but bandits and mindless undead. This just proved it."

Nebarra was silent for a beat, his head tilting to the side. Something about the motion reminded you of a bird; the eagle-shaped helm only added to the effect. You waited patiently for his answer, wondering what exactly he had to consider –

Metal, arcing toward your sword arm.

You barely managed a dodge and a weak parry with the flat of your blade – you'd been holding it low, unready. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Clearly, Nebarra was done thinking – the two of you were sparring now.

Fair enough. Enemies wouldn't be so polite as to give you time to gear up, either. And now, for once, the odds weren't in your favour: a fully-armoured Altmer veteran with decades of experience, versus you, young, disoriented, and unarmored, only a single blade in hand.

It was thrilling.

You sidestepped another swing of Nebarra's blade – only to connect with it a moment later, coming out of the feint you had failed to read.

Sharp, stinging pain. Scarlet, dripping from your arm.

He was trying to hurt you. And you were giving him ample opportunity.

You needed to ground yourself, regain your rhythm – something you couldn't do without an opening, and Nebarra wasn't giving you any.

A glint of metal on the left – block, step back. Movement overhead, an oncoming blow – raise your sword, throw your weight behind it, disrupt his momentum.

At least, you tried. Fully armoured as he was, Nebarra had an extra thousand angaids of weight behind his swing, if not more. The sheer force of his blow knock your sword out of your hands, sending you staggering back. But the grass underfoot was slick with the morning's dew, and you were moving too fast, too unsteadily. Before you knew it, your back was colliding with the ground, and all you could see was grey sky overhead – and a golden sword coming down.

Careless.

But there was still a chance.

Contorting violently, you grabbed Nebarra's arm as the blade sailed by, nicking your face as it passed. You didn't let go of his arm just yet, though. Instead, you pulled, leveraging your weight against his, abdomen taut as you used him to haul yourself upright. Nebarra, clearly not expecting such a move, found himself betrayed by his own momentum, drawing him forward and down, aided by your weight. Gravity took care of the rest, and he crashed towards the earth, twisting even as he fell to avoid face-planting into the ground.

As he struggled to right himself, you rushed to retrieve your sword; Nebarra was already rising by the time you turned back to him.

"No you don't," you growled, charging the mer, sword raised.

His hand shot out, a ward rippling to life, though it buckled slightly under your sword's impact. Nebarra staggered, his half-risen stance precarious, unbalanced.

Now. Now. Now.

Once, twice, thrice more your sword glanced off the ward – and on the fourth blow, it shattered, leaving the Altmer open to your assault.

Metal clanged as you brought your sword down, colliding with his gauntlet as he struggled to block with it, not given enough time to raise his own sword in defense. You let the blade slide off, intending to follow up with its momentum, but Nebarra didn't give you a chance. The moment the sword glanced off his gauntlet, he lunged, catching you in the abdomen and bringing the both of you to the ground.

The tussle that followed was a blur.

His sword arcing down, yours blocking. Hilts catching, blades flying, yanked out of your grasp and his.

Panted breaths, heaving chests, grappling and rolling across the grass.

A glint caught your eye – your sword and Nebarra's, just within reach.

He saw it too, the both of you reaching out in unison for your weapons, desperate to be faster than the other.

Leather-bound metal brushed against your palm – the hilt. Your hand closed around it, drawing it in close. Brought it swiftly upwards, blade against Nebarra's neck.

At its touch, he froze – and so did you. Because resting against your own neck, biting into the tender flesh, was the edge of Nebarra's blade.

Stalemate.

Ears ringing, heart racing, you shift your gaze from the sword to the one holding it.

Hunched over and straddling you, a leg to either side of your waist, there was hardly any distance between your bodies. The beak of his helm was close enough to brush your nose; your breath fogged on the metal. His gasping breaths may has well have been your own – you could feel them, swift and hot, slipping through the gold feathers that covered his face, carrying the faint scent of wine.

Of course, he'd been drinking. It had probably kept him warm through the night – and he'd still managed to keep you off-balanced for most of the fight.

You were in worse shape than you'd thought.

That, or... maybe Nebarra was better than he'd ever let on.

"...Tonight," you breathed, staring up at him. "Let's... spar again tonight."

Nebarra grunted; you could hear the sound echo faintly in his helmet. "Fine. Don't expect me to go easy on you."

A smile tugged at your mouth – you could feel your lips crack and stretch at the motion, dried out in the cold; you gave them a brief lick before answering. "What, and this was?"

Another affirmative grunt. "I'll be sober by tonight. Unfortunately."

You snorted, then fell silent once more. With your eyes, you found yourself tracing the curves of his helm, pausing at the sight of his bangs peeking through, dark and tangled threads of gold. Something about them was like an itch you couldn't scratch, and you had the sudden urge to brush them aside, or at least tuck them back into his helm.

As your gaze drifted upward, toward the visor, a glint in its shadows caught your eye. Again, you paused, staring intently into the dark.

A reflective sheen, a gleam of crimson –

"Are you done breathing on one another, yet?"

Xelzaz's voice shattered your focus, and both you and Nebarra snapped your heads toward the sound.

The Argonian stood just outside the tent, arms crossed, head bare of its usual hood, scales shimmering in the pale light. Beside him was Khash, a shadowy smudge in the mist; her wide red eyes seemed to float amidst the grey.

"Good morning," you said stupidly, even as Nebarra scrambled to get off you.

"Why were you fighting?" Khash asked. "Did something happen?"

"For your – obviously necessary – information," Nebarra sniffed, dusting off his armour, "we were sparring. And you had better get used to it. Our dear Dragonborn and I will continue to do so, apparently, starting today."

As you sat up, you distinctly heard Xelzaz mutter, "By the Hist." When he turned his head to you once more, there was something incredibly deadpan about his gaze, an unspoken, "Really?" in his eyes.

"What?" you mouthed back, blinking at him in confusion. He only shook his head, and have no answer.

"Right... Well, let's get the fire going again, and I'll see about getting us all breakfast."

At that, Khash's gaze snapped towards him. "Ohh, Xelzaz, can I have some Hackle-lo with it?"

"Khash, you've eaten almost my whole stock."

"Oh..."

"...I'll see if I can't spare a few more."

"Yay! Heh."

"Horker stew for you, Nebarra?"

"I'm too tired to say no... but I'll watch you every moment of its making."

"Yes, yes, as usual. And what of you, friend?" Xelzaz turned towards you, and for a moment, you couldn't answer him – you'd been too distracted watching the scene unfold, a smile on your face.

"Ah... it doesn't matter to me, I suppose. Surprise me."

And so, thirty minutes later, as the sun climbed through the sky and burned away the mist, breakfast was served.

But for some strange reason, all throughout the meal, you found your gaze drawn... repeatedly...

...to Nebarra.

[likemosaic]

@eritvita : "fuck them." from eritvita, to Seyrena! prompt: baldur's gate 3.

seyrena can drink to that and boldly does. indeed, fuck them. the ire from some disgruntled passing nord, drunk and stupid, is hardly as bad as facing a council of nordic windhelm nobles who think you're not worth the air you breathe. seyrena has become used to the vitriol, and though she does not revel in it, she simply...accepts it. their hatred directed at her means less hatred towards those in the grey quarter, means less of a chance for troublemakers to go looking for such trouble in that area of the city. better her than a dunmeri child.

still, to hear an old friend say it is comforting. seyrena toasts roland for his kindness and takes another sip, careful to not get too deep into her cups. the last thing she needs is to make a drunken fool of yourself.

"fuck them. but forget them, for now." seyrena has all the time in the world to think about hatred and prejudice for dark elves; for the moment, she'd prefer to catch up. her grin is toothy. it's been sometime since she ended her attempts at magical education at the college; moved home to riften, moved north again, gotten married, became a politician. roland's life has no doubt had surprises for him, as well. "tell me how you have been in the interim. you must be the archmage by now, hm?"

[fisheito]

Started playing NuCarni 2 weeks ago it's so fun i love everything. But I wanna know is there any way to access past event stories??? I wanna read them and learn more abt the characters but obviously bc I wasn't there for them they're. Locked. And I can't read em. Idk man I've been an enstarrie for 4 yrs and counting so I'm used to every event or scout story being available somewhere on the internet so I can binge read to my hearts content so maybe I'm just being silly rn but I can't find anything so I'm asking u (bc ur blog makes u seem like a nucarnival god tbh praise be)

2 weeks ago!!! wow!! welcome to this pit of eternal suffering!!!!!! (i'm actually having quite a nice time don't tell anybody)

i bet my followers know more about nucarni than i do AHAHA (pls chime in if yall want!!)

i have no helpful advice... because any events i DID miss when i started playing (White Storm/Zest of Life)? i was still playing when the reruns happened the following year so ...i got em... thru accidental waiting......yeah.... sorryy..........

[kylejsugarman]

wait the science fiction project starring aaron paul that hasn't gotten an update in forever is directed by FLYING LOTUS?????? THEYRE WITHHOLDING A SPACE MOVIE DIRECTED BY A COOL FREAK STARRING HOLLYWOODS WETTEST PUPPY FROM ME?????? (the ground starts quaking and the picture frames on ur walls start rattling)

[mxdotpng]

the thing abt people getting mad at gamers for calling ff7 "not political" is the remake trilogy kind of just forgot the plot and did in fact stop being political. its about alternative timelines now. did you miss that

[octoagentmiles]

Animals I wish to see in Above and Beyond:

Alternate title: I Am Banging On Silvergate’s Door As We Speak /j

Bees!! because a bee model does in fact exist. I know this. They just need to use it /srs. Plus bees would make a really cute episode anyway- and when they finally do it I am willing to bet $9999 on it being a Vegimals episode.

Orchid mantis, or any kind of mantis really. Why? They are my favourite bug, next question-

Gynandromorph animal(s)!!! They're so cool—they're what happens when an animal with vastly different gender differences (think the harlequin ducks) is born intersex, and they look like Picasso paintings come to life. (it could also be a fun way to introduce a character with they/them pronouns-)

Parrots! (I know we got the mountain parrots but shh-) I desperately want a Pete-centered episode, and give him some friends while you're at it please.

Centipede! They’re literally just remipedes on land. Make it a Shellington episode and call it a day 👍

Snails. I love snails. They're the best mollusks, I am not accepting criticism.

Tarantula. Just because :)

Bunny. They showed an illustration of a non-anthro bunny in The Cold Snap and I have not felt peace since.

I’d gladly take a jackrabbit too; they’re not really rabbits (they’re hares), but if you’ve read that one post you’ll understand. It’s a Kwazii and Tweak episode.

Sammy The Falcon specifically. What is his deal???? They introduced him as Paani's living taxi and gave us ZERO context.

Maned wolves. Weirdos. (affectionate)

Moose. I will not elaborate further.

I’m down to see the chinstrap penguins again, or Ooju and Rocko—I think they should interact 👀

Ostrich?? Emu?? I have nothing else to say.

Ring-Tailed Lemur. They’re another one of my favourite animals, and I think the Wild Kratts fans would get a kick out of it. They deserve nice things.

Mole lizard. Look it up I DARE you. (cw if you're scared of snakes or worms) /nf