#MAIL –– ( filled )

[kirby-the-gorb]

[caninescreations]

"Stanley you're making accusations with circumstantial evidence. Anyways I think you may need to cut back a bit on the smoking, your blood tastes- tested positive for high cholesterol."

[stamp-it-to-me]

a 2014 South Korean stamp released for the Year of the Sheep (aka Year of the Ram)

[ID: a postage stamp with an abstract illustration of a sheep's head. the sheep's nose, eyes, and ears are defined by simple lines while the rest of the sheep is made of up of broken curly lines. the face value of this stamp is 300 South Korean won. end ID]

[pragasecacomdoenca]

Russian roulette (don't try at home)

[acorviart]

It's almost time for my yearly winter shop hiatus! 15% off until Nov 17 with code SASALELE, and then I'll be closing on the 18th until February. I won't be open for holiday shopping, so get any planned presents now 🫡

SHOP

[honeycollectswhump]

The Wolf

[part 2]

this is based on this prompt by @allthingswhumpyandangsty! i hope you like what i did with it :D also tagging @clickerflight because i think you'd enjoy this

CW: non-human whumpee, animal whump (as in the wolf form of a werewolf gets whumped), fear of death

The Wolf howls, high and pained and as sharp as its teeth, as a whip cracks against its back, again. There is nothing it can do to escape, yet it still thrashes around desperately, even as the thick rope around its neck makes it choke and stumble. 

There is no understanding in its mind that its assailants are the same people that celebrated its birthday, that brought it food when it was ill, only the vague feeling of betrayal and drowning panic at what they will surely do to it.

It doesn’t notice a young man coming closer until he is right next to its bound maw and the Wolf yelps in surprise, swinging around its massive head, trying and failing to hit him with its antlers. He grabs three of the Wolf’s sliced-up ears, tilting its head to the side, and it can only see a cruel smile playing on his lips and the jagged glint of a blade before its world bursts into darkness, solely interrupted by sharp bursts of pain.

For a while, its world is nothing but agony, as the hunter drags his knife across its many eyes, and it is powerless to stop it. If it were human, it would mourn the betrayal of its closest friend and the discovery of a side so cruel it could have never imagined it. But it isn’t, not yet at least, so it doesn’t. Neither does the young hunter, blind to a well-kept secret.

Still lost in its own pain, the Wolf barely notices when the young hunter kicks one foot into its torn-up side and it topples over without any resistance, its paws hitting the air uselessly. It hits the ground with a yelp that stretches into a long whine, when the hunter presses his boot into the Wolf’s wounds, hard.

Desperately, it snaps and bites around but its teeth only ever graze the fabric of the hunter’s pants, held back by a rope, and that earns it a kick in the face. Blinded by the hunter’s knife and its own blood, it can’t even prepare itself for the impact, can only wish for a mouth that could scream. 

The Wolf has never been prey before, but if it had any imagination, this is how its prey must feel in its last moments. Is this its last moment?

It was never cruel, not intentionally anyway, it just hunted because that was what it was made for. Whenever the Wolf got free, when the full moon was illuminating the forest just as it was doing now, it had to hunt. A deep instinct the Wolf never questioned and the Other part of it feared. So it did, hunting domesticated, lazy sheep and fat cows and eating them whole, barely leaving bones. 

To some extent, beyond the mind-numbing fear and the paralyzing pain, the Wolf knows that it is getting punished for that. Punished like a misbehaving mutt and not worthy for the beast that it is.

With one last kick to the maw, the young hunter leaves the Wolf alone, collapsed on the ground in a slowly growing pool of its own blood. And in that moment, the Wolf realizes something so loud and clear, that it reverberates in the Other part of it:

If it doesn’t escape, it will die. 

Ever so slowly, the Wolf lifts its head so that its other eyes can scan the horizon. A hint of colour betrays the darkness and it knows that the sun will rise soon. That will be its death, then. 

Because once the sun rises, the Wolf will disappear and leave behind the Other part to deal with the hunters, the hurt and the injuries and it knows the Other part is too weak. They’ll both die, by the hand of the hunters or by the ghost of their touch draining them of their shared blood. 

Where once fear clouded the Wolf's eyes, it sees clearly now. Maybe it is beyond fear, but the Wolf is not aware enough to reflect on it. The other hunters are celebrating their victory, distracted by their own success. The Wolf only instinctually feels its chance for escape, now that its predators have averted their gazes. 

Through the pain of surely broken bones, the Wolf manages to sink a bloody claw through the rope constraining its maw, desperately tearing at it till fibre rips. 

With huffing breaths, the Wolf snaps for the rope that binds it to the ground, just barely catching it with one sharp tooth, and begins gnawing on it until it snaps. It hurts, terribly so, but the pain only furthers the Wolf's desperation. It stands up on shaking legs, half collapsing under its own weight and the mass of its antlers, but the impending threat and the relentlessly rising sun keep it going. 

Clouded, bloody eyes flit around, hazily scanning the area for threats and its speeding pulse makes the Wolf's six ears twitch. Still, despite its huffing breaths, the hunters don’t seem to notice. Now it only has to get away.

The Wolf is a predator. It hunts its prey relentlessly and overpowers it with its brute strength. It isn’t made to be sneaky or silent, yet that’s the only way it has any chance of survival. With a gentleness it didn’t think was possible the Wolf puts one giant paw in front of the other, almost infuriatingly slow, inching away from the camp. 

All of its instincts tell it to run away with abandon, but some part of it, maybe the Other part, holds it back. Instead, half blinded by its own blood, it tries to avoid making any noise or stepping on branches.

Only after it is hidden behind the first line of trees, without any sign of the Hunters noticing, the Wolf takes off running, as fast as its broken body allows it. Again and again, its antlers get stuck in the branches of low-hanging trees, nearly ripping it to the ground. 

It doesn’t think about where it’s going, only that it desperately needs to get away before the relentless sun rises. Beyond its own panting breath and the blood rushing in its ears, it can’t hear anything and the uncertainty of the Hunters starting their chase is almost as gruelling as the knowledge of their Hunt would be. 

The pounding of its heart drives the Wolf further and further away, makes it sway and stumble against the trees as the forest seems to constrict around it until its paw catches on a root and the Wolf can’t hold itself up any longer. It tumbles to the ground with a yelp, already wrecked limbs bending even further, small branches and rocks digging themselves into the bleeding gashes on its back. Only now does the Wolf realise a second danger much more imminent than the light of the day–

The blood it lost.

When the Hunters will inevitably notice its disappearance, they will surely follow the bright red trail the Wolf’s wounds have so kindly left. It is destined to be the prey it used to chase across the forest, salivating at the scent of fresh blood. 

If it will even survive long enough to play the role of the prey. 

There is no denying the wooziness spreading through its flitting mind or the darkness slowly covering the Wolf like a moonless night, drawn out further by the fire burning through the groves the Hunters slashed into its back and limbs. 

Even though it manages to get its legs under its body again, the Wolf knows it can’t keep going for much longer, the mangled limbs struggling to carry its weight. But an end is not in sight.

By the time the Wolf breaks through the line of trees past the edge of the forest, it can barely hold itself up. Each step is a balancing act on knives, digging deep into the sensitive flesh of its paws, and now that it is out in the open it doesn’t even have the energy to hide, to sprint for bushes in the distance. Even then, turning back into the forest is even more of a death sentence than the merciless claws of blood loss, sinking themselves into the Wolf’s awareness. 

Despite the blood muddying its vision –it doesn’t think about the darkness on its left side. It doesn’t– it can make out the blurry shape of what might be an isolated cabin close to the forest’s edge. Recognition stirs in the Other Part, with emotions the Wolf can’t place.

All that reaches it is Safety, Safety, Safety and that fragile hope is enough promise for the Wolf, taking up its last energy to stumble towards the shelter.

It only just makes it to the wooden shed next to the cabin and though the Wolf’s skin prickles at the proximity to humans, it carries its beaten and bloodied body inside. With a last rasping breath, the Wolf collapses. Its right antler splinters into pieces at the impact, sending a burning spike of pain through the Wolf’s skull and making it whine. Like lightning, the pain zaps through its mind, a disorienting flurry of hurt. With its blinded side upwards, the other eyes down in the dirt and dust, it can’t look around the room it has trapped itself in, can’t fight back or flee, or even to notice its assailants. 

Desperately, it scratches at the ground, a futile attempt to get up one last time, to hide, to not lay vulnerable and visible in the middle of the shed, ready to be taken by a cruel and victory-drunk Hunter. 

Exhaustion weighs heavily on the Wolf’s aching limbs, a battle lost to the Hunters, the sun and its very own instincts. The ageing wood creaks around it, drowning out wheezing breaths, swallowing any warning the air might have carried to the Wolf’s torn-up ears and it can do nothing but shake in fear.

Distantly, the Other Part knows he isn’t as strong as the Wolf, knows that his fragile body won’t carry the wounds for long. He mourns his life, the one he will never have again even if he is unlucky enough to survive the day. The Wolf whimpers, an to it incomprehensible wave of grief washing over it. 

Even as all of its other senses dwindle and the day sinks its teeth into the open wounds, the Wolf can’t help but yowl. A pathetic, wheezing breath, barely distinguishable from the wind whipping against the wooden walls. It doesn’t mourn the same way the Other Part does, it can’t, it only wishes it could hunt under its beloved companion, the silver shining moon, one more time. 

Then, even the pain fades and the Wolf and the Other Part are swallowed up by darkness even the moon can’t break.

[sharp-fawngz]

Gift Boy :)

Ko-fi | Redbubble | Commission

[htodinth]

for christmas this year, i sent my lion @shanghai-ohmy a big box of treats (to share my favorite homemade caramels), and decided last minute to throw in a sweet sketch to stab him in the heart with!

back in 2021, when the covid lockdown was just barely opening up, we were so mad about not getting to see each other for four years that he jumped at the chance to come visit me in december. (he even accompanied me to my last exam of the semester!) after spending days in a quarantine hotel, we finally reunited, and moved in to a little hotel suite together! the Trondheim christmas market was a highlight of our time together, and I particularly remember the gyros we got together and how he got on with all the vendors wahaha

🦊💝🦁

[scoobydoodean]

as much as the amara/dean “relationship” made me uncomfortable, i did appreciate how they kinda understood each other and i thought it was a beautiful moment when dean got amara to see humanity’s possibilities. and then amara started to like being with the humans! she liked athleisure and massages and just chilling! and then her ending is being consumed by chuck and then by jack? she’s not even her own person anymore?

and like. neither is jack! neither is dean! neither is cas! neither is sam! they get “free will” and none of them are free from their roles!

THE AMARA THING MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE AND I REJECT ALL THE FINALE BULLSHIT KICKING IT AWAY FROM ME I HATE IT AND IT IS STUPID AND BAD

[kirby-the-gorb]

[florsial]

Hiii!!! How have you been!?!?? I feel like I haven't seen you around but maybe not lol. Any good books/movies/music/whatever you've been consuming/thinkin about recently? <333

hiiiiiii Starzzzzzz <333333

I'm been good, okay, and pretty tired lol! School and work is picking up so I don't have as much creativity and energy as much anymore (rip chronically online florsial era) also I'm getting into older fandoms so the major interest stopped extending beyond reblogs and mutuals postings honestly...

And no, nothing new unfortunately, once more, I've been swarmed by due dates, scavenging dinner through the empty walls of my pantry and fridge, and the allure of a late-night walk and shower. I have had no time to properly enjoy something new sadly :(

How about you? Anything new? How are things over there?? :D

[stamp-it-to-me]

a 1999 Palestinian stamp depicting a Palestinian sunbird

[ID: a square postage stamp depicting a small bird. end ID]

gazafunds.com

[bigfootsmom]

#19 for the prompts beloved <3

Years later I have returned to fill this prompt <3

"Do you want me to stay?"

The motel room is about as nice as the lobby was, which isn’t saying much. The scent of stale cigarette smoke hits Buck square in the face the moment he finally gets the door open. It squeaks on rusty hinges and Buck winces. 

“It’s no Ritz, but at least there are…” Buck trails off as his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. “There’s one bed.” 

Eddie brushes past him and into the room, dropping his bag onto the luggage rack before leaning over to flick on the bedside lamp. It casts a hazy orange glow on the room, illuminating some unsavory looking stains on the mauve carpet. 

“Well, beats sleeping in your jeep.”

Guilt twists in his already knotted stomach. “Yeah, you’re right— your old man back probably couldn’t handle that.” Buck laughs, trying to bring some levity to the situation.  

Buck’s attempt at a joke fizzles out in the smoky air between them, the corner of Eddie’s mouth barely twitching up in a half-hearted smile. It doesn’t do anything to erase the tight lines around his eyes. Clearing his throat, Buck steps further into the room to set his bag down on the tired looking armchair in the corner. 

“I, uh— I found a repair shop that can fit us in tomorrow morning. We just have to wait for the tow.”

“That’s good,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s rummaging through his bag. “Any luck finding an earlier tow?”  

Scuffing his toe over the carpet, Buck can’t quite swallow down the pang of shame. “No. They still can’t get here until early tomorrow morning.” 

(rest below the cut to save space)

Eddie sighs and Buck feels like tucking his tail between his legs and cowering. It’s easy to tell that Eddie is upset, the tense lines of his shoulders, the furrow between his brow, the deep bruises of exhaustion under his eyes— Buck knows he’s the reason behind all those things. 

Lifting his toiletry bag out of his duffle, Eddie scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“O–okay,” Buck shuffles his feet as Eddie walks past him to the bathroom. “There was a McDonald’s down the street…I–I can go grab us some dinner.” 

Eddie doesn’t respond, but Buck doubts that he can hear him over the death rattle of the bathroom fan. Buck stands there for a moment, listening to the squealing of the pipes and the hiss of water from the showerhead. Well, dinner isn’t going to get itself. 

The McDonald’s is further away than he thought. By the time he’s walked there and back, the sun has set and he’s covered in sweat and road dust, skin prickling uncomfortably. The neon light from the motel’s sign illuminates the cracked and crumbling walkway to the room. The door sticks and it takes Buck a few times rattling the key in the lock to get it to finally swing open. 

Inside, Eddie is sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard as he watches whatever is playing on the shoebox of a television. He looks up when Buck walks in. 

“Hey.” 

There are still dark circles under his eyes, but some of the tense lines of Eddie’s muscles have relaxed. He’s changed into sleep clothes, worn sweatpants, and a faded t-shirt. His hair is still damp from his shower, strands of it falling soft against his forehead. He looks so soft and all Buck wants to do is wrap himself up in him. Instead, he lifts the greasy paper bag in his hand. 

“Hey— got your favorite.” He sets the bag on the nightstand along with a bottle of water. 

Eddie swings his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching forward to peer into the bag. “Big Mac with—” 

“Extra ketchup is in the bottom.” Buck moves his bag from the armchair and sits down. The springs creak ominously under his weight as he pulls out his own burger. 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

Buck shrugs, “Least I could do.” 

Eddie shoots Buck a weird look, but doesn’t say anything, watching him a moment longer before rifling through the paper bag. The both of them eat their meals in silence, the only noise in the room is the crinkling of paper wrappers and the drone from whatever is on the television. Eddie flips through the channels, finally settling on the rerun of a sitcom that looks vaguely familiar, while Buck pretends to taste his food. 

It’s hard to eat with the way his stomach won’t stop twisting. He knew he should have gotten that rattle in the jeep’s engine, but he thought that he could make it through the camping trip. Stupid. 

When the silence nearly kills him, he retreats to the bathroom, toiletries and sleep clothes clutched to his chest as he tells Eddie he’s going for a shower. Eddie grunts some noncommittal response and the food sitting heavy in his stomach sours. 

The water rattles in the undoubtably ancient pipes, but Buck is pleasantly surprised when he’s met with hot water and decent water pressure. He takes his time, washing the road from his body as he delays the inevitable…the one bed. He knows that he and Eddie have shared beds before, that’s not the problem. 

The problem is that Eddie is clearly upset with Buck, and Buck doesn’t blame him. 

He opens the bathroom door in a billowing clouds of steam, noting that Eddie is under the covers already with the television turned down low. The blue glow from the screen casts sharp shadows on his face, highlighting the curve of his nose and cheekbones. Buck hesitates in the doorway. Maybe he can slip out and come back once Eddie is asleep, avoid all the tense awkwardness of lying next to each other in the dark. 

Buck gets halfway across the room before Eddie sits up straighter, a look of confusion written across his face. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Oh, um— I–I was gonna go check on the jeep.” 

Eddie leans over and turns the bedside lamp back on. “What? Buck don’t be— the jeep is like a 2 mile walk down the road.” 

Buck twists his hands together. “I just—” 

“Buck it’s late. The jeep will be fine, we can check on it tomorrow morning.” The light from the television shines bright in his eyes. “Come to bed, worry about it tomorrow.” 

“You want me to stay?” Buck hates how the insecurity creeps into his voice, but he’s to tired to fight it. 

“Want you–– Buck what are you talking about? Of course I want you to stay. I don’t want you walking down the side of the road in the middle of the night.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

Eddie sits up, pushing the covers back. “No I’m not mad at you, why would I be?” 

“You just looked upset and—” Buck vaguely gestures at the motel room around them. “I ruined the trip back— you’re not gonna be back in time for Chris tomorrow.” 

“I mean I’m exhausted and it’s not ideal that we have to stay here, but Pepa is picking Chris up from camp tomorrow. I’ll see him after,” Eddie answers, and then blinks when he registers the other part of Buck’s sentence. “Buck you didn’t ruin anything, unless you sabotaged the jeep on purpose—” 

Buck lets out an indignant “Of course not!”

“Then it’s not your fault. It’s just a shitty situation. But no one got hurt. So all things considered I think it turned out pretty okay.” 

Slowly, Buck starts realizing that all the signs of Eddie’s “anger” from before may not have been anger at all. Heat rises in his cheeks. Well now he just feels silly. 

“You sure?” Buck has to ask just one more time. 

“Yeah I’m sure, Buck. C’mon, I know you’re exhausted from driving all day.” Eddie pats the empty side of the bed. 

A smile stretches across Buck’s face, relief swelling behind his breastbone and pushing him forward. Eagerly, he crawls under the covers on the far side of the bed, all the exhaustion hitting him at once now that he knows Eddie isn’t mad at him. 

The mattress creaks as Eddie shifts, pulling the covers back on. “Just don’t steal all the covers, then I might get mad at you.” 

Buck snorts, mumbling into the pillow, “Not like you need the covers— you’re like a furnace. Some of us have poor circulation.” 

“You just have to snuggle up.” 

It takes Buck’s brain a second to register what Eddie said and a flush spreads in his cheeks. He’s pretty sure that Eddie is joking, but his heart still skips a beat. 

“You’ll regret offering that when my snoring wakes you up.” 

Eddie laughs, settling further back against the pillows. “Fine, fine— just try and get some sleep. We’ve still got some driving tomorrow.” 

“Alright, goodnight Eddie.” 

“Goodnight, Buck.” 

[bfish]

hi boyfriend

hi my gorgeous girlfriend

[cyber333angel]

no because I need him expeditiously like it’s that serious

[r0ttenb0gb0dy]

✨ meet the artist, @r0ttenb0gb0dy edition ✨

i have no idea what i look like but my husband fact checked this and he said that it looks like me so i am going to assume he is right 🩷

ive never done one of these so i kinda just infodumped . if anyone has any questions don't hesitate to pester me i love to talk !!!! i don't bite i promise . i am just a simple line cook obsessed with a video game from 10+ years ago (this can apply to many games) and a writer when im mentally capable of doing so .

bog loves u all . mwah .