#Pet Monkey

[bitter69uk]

“On the door and throughout the house NO SMOKING signs were prominently displayed … even there she clung to the cocoonlike existence she was leading at the Ravenswood. She kept the curtains drawn in the large downstairs sitting room, preferring subdued illumination to the harsh light reflected by the sand and sea. If that meant sacrificing a view of the water, it was a small price to pay. Throughout the entire house she duplicated the gold-and-white-and-cream colour scheme widely associated with her. Present too were the Louis XIV chairs and tables, a white fur rug, numerous favourite paintings and photos of herself and a profusion of mirrors which captured her image with satisfying frequency. There was also a copy of the sculptured nude that graced the piano in her Ravenswood apartment sitting on the baby grand. From the long row of shower stalls, numerous enough to accommodate a football team, to the staircase mural featuring a series of nude gladiators to her upstairs suite with the inevitable mirrored ceiling and satin-covered bed, the house reflected its owner. Mae seldom ventured out into the punishing sunlight, not wishing to dry out and coarsen her pink-and-white complexion. She never considered swimming, but sometimes at night she and [long-term boyfriend Paul Novak] would go wading.”

Was just reading about how Mae West’s palatial 1920s-built Mediterranean-style former beach house in Santa Monica is currently on the market for US $6 million and it reminded me of the passage above from the 1984 biography Mae West: The Lies, the Legends, the Truth by George Eells and Stanley Musgrove. The boudoir of this house was the location for the famous 1964 Diane Arbus photoshoot with West for Show magazine (including this shot with her pet monkey).

[liamsaysstuff]

Not mine but this is very important

[bitchenfries]

From Marvel Tales Magazine, 1968 🐒

[is-the-primate-vid-cute]

I keep seeing a pet capuchin monkey vlog account called gaitlyn rae that is giving me so many red flags such as playing off Fear grimace as excitement or happiness. And they pick her up and look in her eyes and kiss her on the face and she is pushing away and screeching but they take it as happiness. But i dont know do you think you can take a look

You have answered your own question several times here! We may be the monkey blog, but you can trust your judgement. Keeping primates as pets is always cruel, and everything else you've said here is even worse. You don't need me to have a look, you've got it right on. Primates are not pets!

[cripplingchips]

how long do you think it'll take until a news story comes around about this

[vinescreens]

The White Lotus: Sicily

[deadpoolsmom]

as far as one piece antagonists go Crocodile truly gets absolutely scooby-doo’d at unmatched levels

He immediately falls for a phone scam and from basically little garden to rainbase he doesn’t even know the strawhats are alive (and clowning towards him at incredible speed). As soon as he does, they’re in his house tearing at his walls and bringing marines into his villain lair.

He uses a literal floor trap door over a gator pit to catch them, gets phone scammed again, full scooby-doo chase scenes after Chopper through the streets while still missing him, and suddenly his prisoners have escaped his impossible cage, and his giant bananagators are dead. and Nico Robin saw it all happen.

He then spends rest of the arc complaining about those meddling kids and their dog “strawhat pirates and their weird pet” and at no point does he even know how many strawhats there are.

Like yeah he keeps having plans on top of plans to stop everything Vivi can do but also she keeps coming up with a new thing to do (Tom and Jerry ass dynamic).

Part of it is that he’s underestimating them and keeps grandstanding villain monologuing but also teens keep killing hundreds of his grand line bounty hunters and he straight up does not know what is happening.

Cause he IS trying to kill them he’s sending top assassins after them and ripping out luffy’s organs, the whole time he’s yelling HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?? DIE. as whack-a-mole Luffy keeps inventing new ways to hit him.

[naturecalls111]

[michi-beans]

Made a lil lulaw pet au heheh. Lots of furr babies.

ko-fi | Patreon

[samimarkart]

ten days left to preorder the sea monkey, trilobite and tiktaalik acrylic charms! all come with free stickers as a thank you for preordering

[aloneinthedark-eagle]

Do you need help at home? 🙉🐒

[dumbbitch2-0]

Loser old men with duck hyperfixations (they are both cats and gay)

I think they would be good friends they need a sleepover to vent about their extremely similar backstories

[happymiffy]

[bitchapalooza]

How I think ASL would play pretend

Ace: Hello, wife! I’m home!

Luffy: Hi, husband! I didn’t make dinner because I didn’t feel like it.

Ace: Spot! Our son that is our dog!

Sabo: Why am I the dog…

Luffy: Shut up and make dog sounds, Sabo.

Sabo: Why can’t I be like. The annoying neighbor or something?

Ace: OH NO!

Luffy: What is it, husband???

Ace: I want a divorce, wife!

Luffy: Okay, we can get a divorce.

Ace: NEVER MIND I DONT WANT A DIVORCE ANYMORE!!!

Luffy: Okay cool. I’m having an affair.

Sabo: I pooped on the carpet.

Ace: Okay, bye, wife. I have to go the doctor’s.

Sabo runs over to the far end of the yard and puts on a headband: I’m the doctor. You have cancer in your head.

Ace: Oh no, how long do I have, doctor?????

Sabo checks his wrist like a watch: Hmm…. 3 minutes— NO WAIT 3 SECONDS!

Ace: Oh nooooo! /collapes and dies/

Luffy picking up a toy bear: C’mon, baby, now that my husband is dead I’m single and ready to mingle. Let’s to go the grandline and drink sake together.

Dadan: What the hell did I just watch…

[itsabouttimex2]

Y’know how reader is stuck as a monkey in the Yan monkiefam posts, what if reader somehow sneaks off the mountain and stumbles upon macaque. Macaque gets a specific vibe from the mysterious monkey, so he takes it as his own. Monkey reader is trying to communicate to macaque on how to transform back, but either due to lack of understanding or macaque not wanting reader to turn back, reader is still a monkey much to their dismay. Meanwhile Monkiefam is panicking and looking everywhere for reader. This could be seen as a part 3 to the Yan monkiefam posts with an added platonic Yan macaque.

How would you write this scenario? Sorry if it’s long, I started rambling a bit lol. I really like your writing and was hoping you would write something similar to this, I love platonic Yan and you stuff really caters to me. Thank you🩷🩷

Monkiefam: Part Three

Sable Savior

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

(💜💜Post one-hundred, huh? Feels good to have gotten here! My ask box has been wiped, and is open again! Character x character requests are now allowed! 💜💜)

Monkeys don’t make for good pets. They’re cute, sure. They’re funny and interesting creatures that are worthy of study. But it’s impossible to raise them properly.

And it’s impossible to obtain one ethically.

Either the mothers are shot to death in the wild and the babies are ripped from their still bodies, or they’re kept in horrid conditions and forcibly bred again and again, having their babies torn from them after only a few days or weeks.

All for a cute pet that will be dumped in a few years. Monkeys don’t stay cute, after all. They grow out of the clothes you put them in, grow out of the training you put them through, grow from cute “living dolls” and into wild, fanged animals all their own.

Once they’ve shed their youthful looks and compliant behaviors, the fate of every ‘pet’ monkey is the same- death.

Whether shot or euthanized or dumped far from home and left to starve, monkeys kept in captivity almost always have unhappy endings.

You could be easily mistaken for one of those unfortunate creatures, stuck in a simian form and curled up near the roots of a looming tree.

Even after two full weeks, the transformation you had accidentally locked yourself into remained strong, showing no signs of faltering.

What at first seemed like a potential method of escape had quickly because the thickest chain in your shackle.

Not only was your newfound ‘family’ thrilled to have you as a cuddly little monkey, they seemed even more intent on coddling you.

MK especially adored having a ‘little sibling’ who couldn’t escape his grip. Day in and day out, every minute spent by your side, tending to your needs as a form of stress relief. Whether it was wrestling you into the bathtub or carving up fruit to spoon-feed you, the hero had quickly become a constant smothering presence. He was a fine caretaker, but you would much prefer that he used those skills on anyone else but yourself.

Just barely had he talked himself out of dressing you up, reasoning that you might find fabric uncomfortable over your fluffy white fur.

Not that he allowed you to remove the silk ribbons that his mentor had tied. Those were staying, and MK made sure of it. Every single time you had managed to squirm one free from your body, he just snatched it off the ground and tied it back on.

And, speaking of his mentor-

For all the doting you faced at the hands of MK, Sun Wukong was twice as bad.

Having been the caretaker for thousands of monkeys through the passing of centuries, it seemed that the Great Sage had a knack for pampering the furry darlings- and that translated quite easily to a human being who had accidentally trapped themselves in the form of a cub.

Already you had spent hours upon hours upon his lap, feeling Wukong’s deft fingers comb through your fur in search of debris to remove. Given that you weren’t allowed outside, he rarely found anything more than dust. Still, his intention was more to bond than it was to clean.

For him, the best part was when you'd get so bored that you'd start stroking his fur in turn, picking through it just to pass the time. Even though your heart wasn't really in the action, he was absolutely thrilled to have you acting like a real monkey in some small manner.

The Great Sage was so thrilled, in fact, that he'd barely allow you even a minute alone. And though some of this was justified by your inability to properly function in this new form, it went far beyond the realm of understandable when the king started taking you to bed with him- all under the guise of 'keeping you safe'. You'd rest all through the night tucked into his arms, listening to a powerful beating within the Monkey King’s muscular chest.

Against MK, you were lulled to sleep by a slow throb, finding some gentleness in the steady and low thrum.

Against Wukong, you were cascaded by the furious white-hot pounding of a heart blessed by power almost beyond comprehension.

You’d be lying if you said neither was at least a little comforting to hear as you drifted to a deep, dreamless sleep.

But here and now, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth to be found.

You had finally managed to slip from the clutches of your ‘family’, mustering just enough motor control to clamber up the couch and jump to a window left cracked, slipping under the peering pane and crawling to ‘freedom’.

On unfamiliar and furry legs you had fled, away from a gilded cage and into the beckoning wilderness. Maybe a part of you now longed for the forests, driving you to escape and run free. Perhaps some newfound simian instinct craved a life free from unchanging scenery and sturdy walls.

So away you went, chirping and chittering and calling out to the rising moon as the night grew darker and darker.

And as you raced into those darkening woods, throwing caution to the wind, you also drew further and further away from any semblance of safety.

It hadn’t taken you even twenty minutes to find trouble on the supposedly idyllic mountain.

And now you were here, stuck in a simian form and curled up near the roots of a looming tree.

Not alone, of course.

A troop of monkeys surrounds your quivering form, hissing and snarling at such a strange outsider. The count is easily fifteen to twenty, each one bearing sharp fangs and hunched down in aggressive stances.

You hunker away, pressed to the cold bark with eyes pointed downwards. You don’t dare move or make a sound.

It’s not enough to save you.

The largest member of the pack snarls for just a second, rearing back with his teeth bared. Before you can even flinch, the simian lurches towards you with a splitting howl, powerful jaws snagging the skin of your neck.

The scent of blood fills the air.

As it shrieks through a mouthful of your flesh, the monkey violently slings you back and forth. It beats at your face and neck, hammering your diminutive form with all the strength it can muster. When you dare to try and strike back it throws you to the ground, beating ruthlessly down on your stomach.

It hollers.

The rest of the pack jump into the fray, beating and biting and tearing at fur. Where one shoves, another pulls. Any spot left untouched by one is promptly assaulted by another. Not an inch of you is spared the violent assault, nor is mercy given in regards to your youthful form.

And right as darkness swells in the corners of your vision, the troop freezes.

A barbed lash of black strikes the alpha across the face, leaving a deep and stinging cut where it lands. He howls and shrieks and falls back, shooting off into the jungle and disappearing from sight. From only the trail of blood left in his wake, his troop follows, fearful but still loyal.

“Someone’s had a rough go of it,” says a voice that would be insufferably smug if it hadn’t just saved you from probable death.

Two cold hands wrap around your prone form, prying you from the ground.

The white of your fur has almost entirely disappeared behind a mixture of wet soil and stinking blood, filthy and pungent. The ribbon around your neck has been torn free and left on the ground, lying in tatters.

“You‘re still a little too young to be without your mother, fuzzball. She’s the one who’s supposed to teach you ‘the ways of the wild’, yeah? Where’d she get off to?”

Macaque cradles you close in one of his arms, lightly stroking the underside of your chin with a sharp nail. His touch is surprisingly gentle, far more than you’d expect for a demon. His voice takes a turn for the soft.

“Nah, that’s not it. If you’re this close to another pack without her, then she’s… not around anymore. You probably weren’t raised by her at all, actually.”

His thumb presses against your ragged silk ribbon, toying with the red fabric.

“Must’ve been dumped by some mortal who got sick of taking care of you, huh? Bastards.”

You chitter desperately for his help, hoping that this one might understand even a word you say. But he only gives you a pitying smile, untying the ribbon from your tail and letting it flutter slowly to the ground.

“You never even learned to speak, furball? They must’ve taken you young. Humans always do. Keep you for a few years and dress you up like babies, then throw you out once you’re not cute enough for them anymore.”

Your vocalizations grow more desperate and wild, becoming outright hysterical.

“I know, I know. Hungry, right? Never learned to forage for yourself, or pick for bugs. C’mon, let’s find something to eat- bet I can scrounge us up some peaches, at least. After all…”

Macaque pulls free his tattered scarf, then holds one end of it against your stomach. You can’t so much as chitter before he wraps you head to toe, swaddling your fluffy form tightly. It’s warm, at least, if a bit restrictive.

“Shouldn’t we outcasts stick together?”

And off he goes into the night, far from home and far from safety.

It’s not quite freedom, but you’ll take it.