#Vicki Wolf

[bloodtiesstilllives]

Ever since I found out that Gina Holden was supposed to be casted as Claudia Stilinski in season 3B of Teen Wolf all I could think of was how much fun Coreen and Stiles would have being the researchers always on the fringe coming up with the bright ideas. Pretty much saving the day. They would be so much fun together.

Stiles would break into places and Coreen would be the getaway driver lol.

The Sheriff and Derek are always there dealing with the eventual mess.

But they would still do what they gotta do, even if it means a road trip.

Oh boy...

But no worries. Henry and Peter would be their protectors and partners in crime.

Original Coreen Fennel Introduction

[themightyhumanbroom]

"Surge discovers a new super power, Tangle and Whisper touch a nerve, and the Chaotix bring news of a monster."

[lead-to-light]

so uhhh how is everyone currently <:))

Jerry looks around and shrugs, "Guess I'll answer this one."

He holds up one finger, "Lanolin is crying in her room."

A second, "The machine shop crew, the Chaotix and Blaze are cheering up Kit by helping him create a war crime."

A third, "Surge is beating the absolute shit out of Tangle and Whisper for making Lanolin cry."

A fourth, "And finally, here in the infirmary we're trying to stop Amy from stopping Surge. Chelydri says it's good they're getting this out of the way instead of letting it fester."

*sounds of struggling offscreen*

"LET ME GO! I HAVE TO STOP THEM!"

"DAMMIT LISTEN TO ME! YOU GOTTA LET THIS RESOLVE OR IT WILL NEVER HEAL PROPERLY!"

"HOW IS SHE SO STRONG?!"

"GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND HELP, JERRY!"

He sighs and trudges over.

[fattomatoz]

• Marquis (1989) Dir. Henri Xhonneux

[dog-lover22]

Title: Pink Wolff. Bluey style

Probably a bit taller, but it's good enough.Since I done Trixi and Josh's family in Bluey style why not all of my OCs too?

[grvywaren]

i am actively ignoring the teen wolf movie's existance i invested way to much of my teen years on it to have it ruined like that

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

I have a lot of female characters I like, but for this list I'll just name my favourites from my major special interests over the years...

Lisa Simpson, The Simpsons

Holley Shiftwell, Cars 2

Boo, Monsters, Inc.

Vanellope Von Schweetz, Wreck-It Ralph

Queen Elsa of Arendelle, Frozen

Vicky, The Fairly OddParents

Valerie Gray, Danny Phantom

Whisper the Wolf, Sonic the Hedgehog

Jessica Rabbit, Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Emily, Hazbin Hotel

Name ten female characters you like, you get zapped if it's jsut a male character you call a babygirl or other feminine nicknames because I can't see people calling Lestat coquette again

[thedoctorwhocompanion]

The War Between The Land And The Sea: Is A Doctor Who Spin-Off With the Sea Devils in the Works?

The War Between The Land And The Sea: Is A #DoctorWho Spin-Off With the Sea Devils in the Works?

There are more rumours of a Doctor Who spin-off show featuring the Sea Devils — but these don’t hail from newspapers, but instead a production listings site which includes a few further details, including the series’ supposed name. The War Between The Land And The Sea is described as a “spin-off of the fantasy-action saga Doctor Who, that will feature the Sea Devils” (the “fantasy-action” term…

[kestrelteens]

Sooo, autumn is already here, right? Right? Well, September is in a few days and summer and I are no longer on good terms ('cause of the unbearable temperatures) so autumn it is! 🦔 And our simmies need some cool outwear, right? Whether they're going trick or treatin' or simply strolling through Downtown and getting a pumpkin spice latte, their outfits should be on point. 🍂

The set consists of:

Charlotte coat (AF, top only, both morphs, 6 swatches, 6,696 polys, sorted as outwear) paired with @sforzcc's Mariner undershirt underneath and Tahliah hat (TF-EF, 9 swatches, 574 polys, both as accessory or jewellery) by @serenity-cc from their Neve set;

Vicki jacket (AF, both morphs, 3 swatches, 1,530 polys, sorted as outwear) by @madlensims;

Alyson skirt (AF, both morphs, 5 swatches, 962 polys, both as everyday and outwear) by @adrienpastel-blog paired with @ridgeport's Mynx tights and @solistair's Wolfe boots (608 polys);

Dream jeans (wide) (AF, both morphs, 8 swatches, 1,196 polys, both everyday and outwear) by @sforzcc also paired with Wolfe boots.

Verona hairstyle (on the right) by @okruee (TF-EF, 4 colors binned, animated, 11,411 polys);

Ami hairstyle (on the left) by @miikocc (PU-EF, 4 colors binned, animated, 2,916 polys);

This download is for Sims 2.

Everything's compressed, enjoy! ♥ Some additional important info under the cut!

download (sfs) // alt download (mediafire)

download charlotte coat as casual + outwear here (sfs)

The hat works pretty well with most hairstyles, especially the straight hair ones and there's almost no clipping, but unfortunately it won't work with every hairstyle!

There's some minor clipping with the coat when the sims sit down, but it didn't seem like too much of a big deal. 🐸

I have thoroughly play-tested the items and haven't noticed any major issues with clipping, but if something occurs please let me know and i will do my best to fix it! ♥

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Claws and Curses

Werewolf!Jason and Vampire!Reader. They’re best friends, your honor, even when Gotham gets weird. ~1.6k words

Being a vampire is hard. Seriously, five days of trying to adjust to sharpened fangs and claws has not been fun. You’re hungry almost constantly, and you can only take eating raw meat and draining the blood bags the GCPD has been giving out for so much longer.

On top of all that, you broke your bedroom door just by opening it. It hangs limply by its hinges now, and you haven’t gotten around to fixing it. You have no idea how metas with super strength deal with it.

You didn’t even get turned into a vampire the fun way. No, it wasn’t a bite that has you treating everything like it's made of glass but a curse. A witch with some sort of vendetta against Gotham cast a spell, and it left civilians, rouges, and heroes alike running around as monsters.

At first, it was funny, a day off of work wasn’t so bad, and you figured if Batman, who apparently got turned into some kind of wraith, couldn’t fix it, Red Hood would.

But by day three? You hadn’t heard from Jason once, and your boss was insistent that you could come back to work.

Day four, you still had radio silence from Jason, and Gotham was carrying on like Vicki Vale wasn’t delivering the morning news with snakes instead of hair and thick, heavy sunglasses hiding her eyes.

Day five, you were growing increasingly worried about Jason, and you were starting to wonder if you were gonna be stuck as a vampire forever.

Yeah, you had gotten used to opening doors without breaking them, but you had spent almost your entire shift trying to help one of your coworkers, who had been unlucky enough to transform into a yeti, try to deal with shedding. You were still trying to get tufts of white fur off your coat, even on your walk home.

You were so wrapped up in wondering if it was possible to curse a witch back, that you fail to notice the flock of harpies starting to box you in, eagerly trying to corral you into an alley.

They snap their talons at you, and it’s only then your attention focuses on the four bird-like creatures leering at you. “This is our territory,” one of them croons at you, sharp teeth glinting in the street lights, “and there’s a price to be here.”

Your mouth works before your brain does, and you tell them exactly what you think of their little power play, “That’s stupid.”

If they’re put out by your lack of fear, none of them show it. One of them inches forward, gesturing for your pockets, “Wallet and phone, unless you’d like for things to get ugly?”

Your lips curl into a frown. It would be smart to just hand over your things. You’re not exactly a seasoned fighter, and you’re not completely sure how durable vampires are in the face of other monsters.

A part of you wants to find out, to test how capable your strength and fangs and claws can really be.

You don’t get the opportunity to decide. A threatening growl fills the air, and as you whip your head towards the noise, as a large, intimidating werewolf stalks out of the alley behind you.

The harpies didn’t scare you. Most of the monsters you’ve seen haven't shaken you. But this one? He’s terrifying. Teeth and nails meant for shredding skin. Dark, matted fur, and eyes that seemed to glow. Just the sight of him is enough to have all your nerves on edge.

The flock behind you seems to feel the same way, and the air almost crackles with tension.

You’re not sure who moves first, if the wolf takes a step forward, or if the harpies turn to run from a clear apex predator, but someone moves, and your would-be assailants make themselves scarce before you’ve even registered they’re gone.

You half expect the werewolf to pounce, to hunt down the harpies, but he does neither. He sits himself down in front of you and gives you the most disappointed look you’ve ever seen, You didn’t even know wolves could make that face.

It’s then that you notice the clothes he’s wearing, the red bat emblem, the distinctive hooded vest. “No way,” you breathe out, unable to fight the grin spreading across your face, “Jason?”

He rolls his eyes at you, letting out a huff as if to say ‘Duh’.

“You’re a dog,” You point out, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice. Relief spreads over your body when he glares at your words. It really is good to see him alive, and just as expressive, even under the curse.

You reach out to scratch his ears, and he leans into your touch. They’re surprisingly soft under your fingers. “Shouldn’t we be fighting, or something?”

He blinks once, then twice. Jason lets out another low, almost indignant huff at your question. He lifts his head, questioning eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to elaborate.

Your grin wider at him, almost teasing as you run your hand lazily over the fur on his head, “It’s just, aren’t werewolves and vampires sworn enemies? Shouldn’t you be trying to bite my fingers instead of going all lapdog on me?”

Jason’s ears flatten slightly, and he lets out a quiet, frustrated growl. It's clear that he doesn't appreciate the implication that he would harm you.

You laugh, moving to scratch under his chin, “Yeah, I know. Who cares about centuries of fighting and stereotypes when we have trash TV to watch together.”

His ears perk up at your words, and his tail starts to wag. He offers your hand a slobbery lick, which you make a face at. He grins at the offended noise you make, all teeth and mischief.

You pull your hand away, wiping the drool onto your clothes, tone accusing and playful all at once, “Now, I know the curse didn’t take your manners.”

He shrugs at you, at least as much as a werewolf can shrug, and starts walking towards your building. He glances over his shoulder expectantly, like he expects you to follow.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for that witch? Instead of walking me home,” you ask curiously, quickly catching up to him.

He leans into you a little, huffing in a way that’s so familiar you know he finds your question ridiculous.

You delight in how warm he is against your side, you’ve been running cold since the curse turned you. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, going quiet as you take in the fact that he’s really here. Your next confession slips out thoughtlessly, “I missed talking to you.”

His steps falter, and he turns his head to look at like you’ve said something important.

“Plus, I need you to fix my door,” you say quickly, embarrassed by your slip up, “Broke it with my vampire powers.” You waggle your pointed nails at him, voice light and teasing as you try to mask how much you actually have missed him.

You’re not sure if you’ve managed to convince him, but he keeps walking all the same. You make a note to look into jinxes to curse the witch when you get home.

You really do miss his voice, and the easy conversation that usually flows between you. You find it almost cruel that it’s been taken from you.

It’s that feeling that drives you to keep talking as you near your apartment, “You know you could come over, right? Even if we’re all still cursed? I can turn on that show we’re watching and help you with your fur.”

He has the audacity to look offended, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stares you down with faux hurt.

You have a stifle a giggle at his face, “C’mon, have you even had a bath since this whole thing started? At least let me brush it out if you’re still furry tomorrow. Deal?”

He’s reluctant about it, you tell by the way his ears flick back, but he nods anyway.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” you say happily, and reach out to pet his head. His eyes close when you do, and you bite back a fond noise at how his tail starts to wag contently.

You begrudgingly drop your hand from his fur, and you almost start scratching him again when he actually whines over it. You don’t know how he does it, but he gives you perfect puppy dog eyes that almost melt your heart.

“Don’t give me that look,” you whine right back, “Don’t you have to go save Gotham or something?”

He seems to contemplate your words for a moment, then gives in, nudging your side as if to say goodbye.

He nuzzles your side, almost long enough that you start to say something, before he pulls away to leave. It almost reminds you of how animals mark their territory with their scent, but you brush away that thought as quickly as it forms.

“Hey,” you call out, stopping him before he gets too far, “Make sure you come over, okay? Even if you still smell like dog.”

He grins at you and yips before disappearing into the Gotham night. You take it for the promise it is, and, as you head inside your apartment building, you wonder if he’ll be interested in the dog treats you keep around for Haley and Ace.

The idea makes you laugh, and for the first time since the curse took its hold on Gotham, you almost want to wake up as a vampire tomorrow, if only for the chance to tease your best friend.

[bloodtiesstilllives]

These Two Would Be Dangerous Together

And it would be so awesome. They are both tough, smart, sophisticated, and will get ready to put in work in a split second.

Peter loves to talk...

Henry is a good listener and would probably draw as Peter goes on and on about whatever.

And they would have a ball. Everyone would think they were always talking about them behind their back, but that's not true. They just look like the types that would do that.

Nope if they are gonna roast you they would do it to your face as a united front.

Especially to Chris Argent.

Sadly his instincts would have him do this.

But he tells that stupid voice to shut up. And takes the ribbing like an adult

These two would be such hot menaces and Henry would keep Peter out of trouble while they are out there stalking people for fun...for hot guys these two can be creepy creepers lol.

[kyliafanfiction]

I saw a bit in a Taylor/Amy fic (the latest chapter of Desperate Times Call for Desperate Pleasures) where Amy compared Taylor to a Necromancer Princess (it fits in Context) and that immediately made me think of a Fantasy AU of Worm. No shards/powers, or at least not in the Worm way, but playing with the characters.

And of course that has me thinking about who everyone would be in such a story idea:

Taylor - necromancer, obviously, given the inspiration. Maybe not a princess, but of some high birth. Danny Hebert is still his canon personality, but as a necromancer. Probably a distant father since the death of Annette. Maybe he's consumed with trying to find ways to restore her to full life or something. Doesn't control bugs, maybe? Or maybe she controls swarms of dead insects in addition to or instead of the usual skeletons and zombies? I'd lean to no bugs, just skeletons and zombies, but YMMV. Keeping her bullied/etc experience may be harder, but if Emma is also a noblewoman, perhaps of higher status (maybe Taylor's low nobility? Or not at all?)

Amy - she's a cleric of some healing-related goddess, presumably? The rest of her family are probably all Knights and Paladins of some sort. Her birth father could be some sort of Bandit King type guy who played up a 'honorable highwayman' schtick (and may actually have been a noble as well as a bandit) akin to the 'code' and 'better than the other villains' thing he had going in canon. Her guilt over not healing all the time probably wouldn't be a thing because there'd be too many other healers, but you could still play with the idea, and she'd still have that separation from her family because she's not a warrior.

Tattletale - no magic, just really smart. Probably a 'Rogue', if we were applying classes to it.

Rachel - Ranger, obviously. Has a wolf animal companion, maybe actually gainfully employed as one of the Royal Huntsmen or someone who prevents poaching on a King's Forest type place. or maybe she's a poacher herself. Probably the latter, but the former could be done well, IMO. Either way, definitely still pretty feral from not spending a lot of time around most people.

Brian - maybe some kind of Paladin of darkness type thing. He could be sworn to Taylor's father as her bodyguard (and Taylor still has her canonical attraction to him).

Alec - I'm honestly not sure. If I were wedging it into D&D classes, some form of Bard, but I wouldn't necessarily want to be bound specifically to classes. Still, he could either have magic specially around manipulation and controlling of the body, or maybe he's like, half-demon, or quarter-demon (and Heartbreaker is either a demon or half-demon) and that's the source of his power. I lean towards the latter.

Aisha - Illusionist? Uses her magic for lots of pranks and stuff, and gets really good at making herself invisible, etc.

New Wave - as I noted, the rest of New Wave would probably be knights/paladins of some sort. Maybe Vicky, Sarah, Crystal and Eric ride griffons or some other flying beast? Vicky on a Pegasus sounds really fitting. Also probably a noble family, but definitely recently ennobled or low nobility, to play into the privileged WASP upper middle class vibe New Wave has in Worm

Lung - could be an actual Dragon, could be a guy who shapeshifts into one, maybe a half-dragon (playing on his half-chinese/half-japanese canon backstory and how he was an outsider in Japan as a result). Warlord or roaming bandit type guy, probably. Oni Lee would be a teleporting assassin who works for him, and Bakuda as an alchemist making explosive compounds and such is there.

Armsmaster - a master Smith and warrior. Already has a Halberd. maybe he does enchanted runes into his weapons or something to make them sharper

Miss Militia - either she's a super skilled archer of some sort, or maybe a magic who specializes in big, flashy attack spells (fireball, etc)

Dragon - Secretly a construct (or disembodied animating spirit?) of some kind that has free will and sentience, but pretends just to be a construct-crafting mage? Might not be able to keep using that name if Dragons are a thing in-setting. Depends.

Kaiser - probably a normal noble in his public face (Max, of the House of Anders), known for his charity towards the poor (only the humans, of course), but secretly the leader of a racist militia-type group that persecutes nonhumans in the Kingdom? Or specific groups of humans. Or both. Probably doesn't have magical powers, but does have some cool enchanted gear he paid a fortune for, and hides just how good he is with a sword, except in his secret persona?

Hookwolf - actual werewolf? Still works for Anders, presumably.

None of these thoughts are necessarily final, really, and I have a few more, but nothing quite formed yet.

Obviously, more might need to worked out, including plot and the particulars of the setting (is Brockton the whole Kingdom? Is Brockton Bay one city? A major focus? Maybe Brockton Bay is a larger region, and some of the various parts of the Bay are distinct cities and towns in the Bay area. I have a setting that involves both Paladins and Necromancers in prominent roles that I might repurpose if I was going to write this... which I still might, but not yet).

Other characters could play all sorts of roles, would have to think more on their equivalent versions. Can't just make everyone some flavor of wizard/warlock/witch/etc, and wouldn't want to be married to specific 'classes', but it's a solid starting point anyway.

What would you all envision 'Fantasy AU' versions of some of the characters? Do you think I'm way off the mark with some of them? Obviously 'Fantasy AU' covers a wide swath of possibilities, so there's a lot of variation. Still, curious as to people's ideas with it.

Obviously, if I wrote it, it would be Taylor/Amy in the long run, (I am nothing if not a predictable, hopeless shipper) maybe involving Taylor (and the AU's version of the Undersiders?) kidnapping Amy at some point, who knows.

[cyberwhumper]

 Mine. Mine. Mine.

        Anger coils low in Rex’s abdomen, hot and dangerous, fueled by the scent of blood and sweat and fear hanging thick in the air.

        Vicky looks like shit.

        He’s splayed out on the concrete, wadded up and tossed there like a greasy rag from his garage, eyes closed. Shivering. There’s blood winding a nice little lazy river down from his nose, of course, glazing his lips and collecting in the hollow between his collarbones. A couple of his fingers are busted— crushed under a steel-toed boot, probably—and his tank top is shredded, yanked halfway up his ribs, showing off rows upon rows of welts in a variety of fun colors, like “internal bleeding blue” and “backhanded mahogany” and “taser.”

        Chains, Rex realizes. Dominik beat him with the pit chains.

        The anger boils hotter. Marks all over Vic’s bronze skin, bruises and burns, worked over and left to cool on the pavement like a particularly good-looking piece of roadkill. Dominik’s marks. Dominik’s hands on Vic, making him bleed and scream and beg like a dog.

        There’s only one person who gets to do that to his boy.

        Mine. Mine. Mine.

        He takes a knee beside Vic, forcing himself to be gentle as he runs his knuckles up and down Vic’s cheekbone, smearing blood around like fingerpaint. The reek of cortisol and adrenaline makes his nose wrinkle, and he growls deep in his chest. Vicky’s eyelids flutter, those dark lashes just barely lifting.

        “Mmnh. R. Rex?”

        “M’here, baby.”

        A shit-eating grin spreads lazily across his face, the diamonds in his teeth looking like rubies instead.  “Get me…get me a fuckin’. Cig, would ya?”

        Rex huffs a bitter sort of laugh. “Not yet, pup. Getcha cleaned up first.” He strokes lank hair away from Vic’s face, watching those dark glassy eyes struggle to focus. There’s a mark seared into Vic’s throat, he notices, the skin crispy-raw over purpling bruises, shaped like Dominik’s silver hand.

        The anger reaches a fever pitch.

        His jaws are locked around Vic’s windpipe before he can say “I love you.” Triplicate fangs sink easily into wrecked skin, hungry, tongue laving wherever it can reach to fill Rex’s mouth with the taste of meat and metal and mate, his mate, his and no one else’s. Under him, Vic gasps, whole body shuddering, pretty little choked-off whimpers leaking from his throat as easily as the blood is.

 “Fuck, Rex, fuckin’—nnh—stop.” But the way his good hand goes to the back of Rex’s head, fingers tangling into shaggy hair to press Rex deeper, pulling him in, makes the words ring more than a little hollow.  

Mine. Mine. Mine.

 Rex doesn’t let up until Vic passes out. Slowly, he relaxes, disengaging his bite so he can gather up his boy’s broken body in his arms, lapping at the deep puncture wounds all the way back to their room. True to his word, he gets Vic cleaned up, going back over Dominik’s work with wet washcloths and lips and tongue, overwriting the damage with bandages and tender bruises of his own. Vic’s limp and soft and perfect beneath him, hair curling all pretty on the pillows as it dries, eyes half-lidded, breathing slow and easy thanks to the massive dose of tranqs Rex shot into his arm. The smell of silver on his skin is fading, replaced by Rex’s scent, their scent, aftershave and cheap detergent and wolf fur.

“Take care of you,” Rex mumbles, nose buried in Vicky’s hair. The burn on his throat is imperceptible, now, replaced with a perfect deep bruise, as stark and bloody and claiming as the one Rex placed there when they first became mates.

Vic hums, burrowing closer against Rex’s body. “Mm. Y…yours…”

Mine. Mine and no one else’s.

[Fic by the exceptionally talented @bxtterflystxtches , who I have the honor of collaborating with for this event. Please show him some love!]

[OC INDEX]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen // @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat // @burnticedlatte // @violent-ultraviolet // @limitlesstrash17 // @inspiral-rl // @coyotehusk // @mis-graves // @caffeinatedscorpio // @defire // @badluck990 // @unforgivenn //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[britany1997]

Howl at the Moon

Part three

Werewolf Steve x GN Reader

Part one, Part two

We all deserve some super sweet, stressed werewolf Steve fluff after my finals

Steve faced his own reflection in the employee bathroom. He gripped the sink as he breathed deeply, trying desperately to calm himself. It was the first night in a long time Steve had had to work an evening shift on the night of a full moon.

He rubbed his face with his hands, reminding himself that Family Video closed at 7:30, and the sun set at 8. That was more than enough time for Dustin to meet him at his house and make sure he was secured in the basement.

He sighed, but now he had you to worry about.

What if there wasn’t enough time? What if he got loose and found you? What if he hurt you? He grimaced at the thought. That wasn’t an option.

Steve splashed some water on his face. He could do this. Robin was staying late to close up, so he could leave a little earlier if he needed to, he’d be home in plenty of time.

Everything was going to be fine.

“What do you mean you lost him?” Robin whisper-screamed into the phone, her eyes darting around to Keith’s security cameras (which she was hoping were just for show.)

“He’s a giant, brown wolf! How do you lose one of those?” She hissed.

Dustin’s chattering on the other end of the line only made her groan and rub her temples.

“Well what should we do?” She asked, “do we track him down? Could we even get him home if we found him?”

God she wanted to slam the phone into the cradle repeatedly.

“Ok fine fine fine, you’re right. Just give me a second, I need to cancel on Vicky.”

Robin promptly hung up before Dustin could say anything else.

She sighed. Steve was going to be covering any shift she told him to till she graduated.

You hummed along softly as your Walkman blared The Cure. You were taking a walk through the woods by your house, picking flowers and stargazing.

As the tape switched between songs, you heard a soft whining coming from behind you.

You whirled around, only to be met with the sight of the biggest dog you’d ever seen.

You probably should have been intimidated by his imposing size, but he was so…friendly.

When you turned, his tail started to thump loudly on the dirt floor in excitement. His lips seemed to pull up slightly, almost as if he was smiling.

You were charmed, returning his smile with one of your own. You approached him hesitantly, hoping he’d let you pet him, but before you could reach out, he trotted over to nuzzle his head against your hand.

You laughed at his eagerness and scratched behind his ears.

The dog barked happily, obviously pleased with your attention. While you pet his head with one hand, he licked all over the other, forcing you to wipe off his slobber on your jeans several times.

After awhile, you began to wonder if this dog belonged to anyone. You checked around his neck, and smiled a bit when you didn’t find a collar.

“Do you want to come home with me?” You asked, scratching behind his ears once more.

The dog licked your cheek so enthusiastically, you almost toppled over. You’d take that as a yes.

You smiled as you lead him home.

Steve woke up to the familiar, post full moon pounding in his head. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

…

He rubbed his temples?

Steve froze. How could he not be chained to the wall right now.

His eyes darted around an unfamiliar, but cozy, living room as he realized he was most definitely not in his basement.

In fact, he wasn’t even in his house.

Steve panicked. He crept around, trying to find some semblance of an idea of where he’d ended up without waking the owners.

Whose house was this? Had he actually broken into someone’s home while in wolf form?

But everything seemed to be in perfect condition, even the front door! Wouldn’t he have torn everything up? He scratched his head in confusion.

Suddenly he froze.

Right there on the mantle was a picture of you.

He slowly, nervously, made his way over to the mantle. Scratch that, there were tons of pictures of you.

Steve wanted to scream. Somehow, he’d found his way into your home.

His head snapped in the direction of the stairs as he heard some rustling.

Steve knew he had to get out, and fast.

But there was the small problem of…not having any clothes.

In a panic, Steve grabbed a blanket from your sofa, wrapped it around his waist, and snuck out the front door as quickly and quietly as he possibly could.

He hoped a detour to his house wouldn’t make him too late to work. He was already envisioning the earful he’d get from Robin after, what he assumed, had been a pretty big escape last night.

He sighed, being a werewolf sucked.

“So you were just in their house?” Robin cringed, “how’d you even find their house? That’s super weird Steve.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know,” he groaned, “I have no idea how it happened, I told you I can never remember what happens on full moon nights.”

“It’s gotta be a wolf thing,” Robin decided, “you probably sniffed them out or something.”

“Yeah I guess, maybe we should-”

Robin and Steve’s heads both snapped to the front door as the bell jingled, signaling your entrance.

Robin’s eyes widened at the sight of you. She turned to Steve, then turned back to you, then turned to Steve again. “I’ll just uh- take my break then.” She slunk to the back room, but left the door open to hear everything of course.

“Hi,” Steve shivered. Did you see him leaving your house somehow? Did he somehow let you know it was him last night? Did you know what he was?

“Hi,” you replied, a pained smile on your face.

Steve’s gaze softened, “what’s wrong?”

You sighed, pulling posters out of your bag.

“I lost my dog,” you told him.

Steve’s face went white as a bed sheet. “Y-your dog?”

You nodded. “I found him wandering the woods last night and brought him home,” you explained, “I guess I haven’t had him for that long, but he was sooo sweet.”

You showed Steve the picture you’d drawn on the posters of the big, brown dog from last night.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. “He looks pretty uh… tough and intimidating.”

You shook your head furiously, “not at all! When I took him home last night, I put a blanket on the sofa for him so he could sleep there because I didn’t want him to shed all over my white bedspread right?”

Steve nodded as you related the tale.

“Well, I guess he wanted to be with me instead, because he sat outside my bedroom door whining! It was sooo cute.”

Steve cringed internally.

“I finally just went downstairs to pet his head until he fell asleep, he’s gotta be the most cuddly dog ever.”

Your smile fell, “I just don’t know why he’d leave.”

Steve felt tremendously guilty.

“Did you want us to hang one of your posters?” He asked.

Your head perked up, “could you?”

Steve nodded, “yeah, yeah of course. I’m uh something of a dog person myself.”

Your bright smile returned, “thank you so much Steve!” You handed him a poster, “it means a lot.”

“It’s really no problem,” he blushed.

Once you were out the door to hang more posters, Steve let out a deep sigh and crumpled to the floor behind the desk.

He felt Robin patting his back, “look on the bright side.”

“What?”

Robin smiled weakly, “at least they think you’re cute.”

Steve groaned.

Taglist🐺

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[dog-lover22]

T: "Are you coming back?" J: "I don't know. You could come with me" T: "I can't, I'm the mascot" J: "Oh, well. All the best then"

Why I'm leaving Twitter? 1. I'm addicted, I keep browsing even if there's nothing there. Someone suggested I could go dormant, but I can't because I'm addicted. 2. I'm getting videos popping up about people being jerks and commercials about crypto and investing. 3. And getting that "You are unable to view this comment, because the OP limits who can read this" it's not really assuring (especially when you see it numerous times). And it's in a group/community that you love.  4. It's just not as fun as it was when I first joined. 5. Maybe I can get some more work done without doing the pointless browsing. I won't say anymore, but I'm looking forward to leaving.

The part I'll mostly miss will be the furry art, and the funny/cool videos. Instead of quitting 'just like that' I thought, why not work on an art piece to say goodbye.

[fountainpenguin]

"Though we both know one day there'll be blood on the floor... but which one will betray the other more?" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Rated T - 6,900 words

50 Words of Dale and Vicky

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

🌃 City Lights AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

🎲 Randomlists.com's 50-word generator

50 scene snippets about two inseparable BFFs and a string of bad decisions. Predates lemon pit torture.

OR, Dale and Vicky were friends when they were kids.

(First 5 prompts under the cut)

50 Words of Dale and Vicky Friday August 14th, 1992 - Friday April 14th, 1995 Summer of the Pink Star - Spring of the Small Sunflower

1. Balance

Even Dad raised an eyebrow at the redhead who took the mutton bustin' like a piece of sticky tape. The sheep charged through the Dimmsdale Dimmadome's mucky arena, the girl thumping up and down on its back. With every second she clung, the crowd surged higher and higher with excitement- cheering already! Did she sew her sleeves to its wool or something? 6-year-old Dale, safe behind the chute fence, braced his arms a little straighter; craned his neck a little higher.

"Whoa… She's cruisin' like a roadrunner."

One flump of a small body later, the little girl went tumbling through the muck. But she won, of course (and scored the traditional belt buckle emblem plus a set of 4 family tickets to Wave 'N Rage to prove it). The girl cheered into Dad's microphone and jumped up and down. Watching some black-haired woman and a redheaded guy (who must be her two parents) fawn over her, Dale had to wonder… if she had any siblings.

That was wicked…

Her name was Vicky Aingeal. And he was about to be the best friend she never asked for.

2. Cattle

The next time he saw her, it was at the state fair. The scruffy scarlet ponytail hadn't changed. She wolfed down a funnel cake at a table, her parents to either side (and sharing their own). Powdered sugar smeared her lips and fingers. That stuff had to be so greasy… but it looked delicious. Dale, who had already been a Bright Young Man and a Very Well-Behaved Good Boy (semi-interchangeably) for the past 5 minutes while his dad talked about cows and bovine and steer and heifers with Mr. So-'N-So (Cue laughter; they were friends), decided he'd finished standing in the hot sun, bouncing on his toes. He darted his gaze between Vicky and the back of his dad's head. Another 20 seconds flickered by. This time, Dale's stomach even growled. And if that wasn't a sign, what was?

"Dad-"

Dad didn't stop talking, but he did move his hand to Dale's shoulder and gave a quiet squeeze. Not now, said the gesture, so Dale went quiet. He played with the big brim of his hat, staring at Vicky and her funnel cake until she stopped eating and raised her head. Their eyes flicked across each other. Dale jumped and glanced away. Back to the cattle. The Dimmadomes showed fat and healthy cows every year at… the cow-showing event. "Open dairy," Dad called it with his friends (SO awesome; all fancy). Dale never remembered the name except this time of year, but he definitely knew cows.

"Dad," Dale tried again. But dad kept talking, squeezing his arm again, so Dale went quiet for real and softly picked at his nose. The grown-ups talked cows, milk, and hormones… And when that all wrapped up, Doug scooped him up and set him on his hip in one shwoop.

"Now, what's all the fuss, son? What's got your knickknack paddy whacking?"

"Dad, I want a funnel cake."

Doug Dimmadome (owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome) threw an unreadable glance at the table where Vicky and her parents ate. It might've been unreadable because Dale was only 6. "Too risky, kiddo. It's probably got dairy. Now come on, son- You wanna lead the herd with me?"

3. Instrument

"Huh," was the first thing Vicky said when she came across the refrigerated butter sculpture. Seriously? Three giant cows playing in a band? "Pretty weird." It was a huge amount of butter and that was kinda impressive all in all, but… did it serve any purpose? It wouldn't last. Who would want to keep that thing cold for months? Even winter wouldn't get cold enough to not melt it. She looked for a price tag, a card- anything that indicated it might be for sale. Was this thing just donated? Free of charge? I wouldn't want it either, but that feels like a waste. I'm sure SOMEONE would buy it. Some kind of stupid, rich…

She was still there, leaning so close to the clear case, her nose could've touched the nearest instrument, when someone tapped her shoulder. She yelped, hit the case (with her face), and spun around. "Who-? … Oh." That weird kid who'd been staring at her while she ate lunch. When Vicky blinked at him, he pushed the brim of his big hat up with one thumb. He even smiled.

"I saw you at the mutton bustin'."

"The what?"

"You rode the sheep? Most people don't stay on that long."

"Oh, yeah. That sheep was a loser."

The kid blinked, like he actually cared about some random sheep's feelings or something. Honestly, with a name like mutton bustin', whoever was in charge of that thing probably cooked it up and ate it by now. "Well," said the kid, pretty slow on the word. He put out his hand. "I'm Dale… Donovan. And you're Vicky, right?"

"Uh, are you following me?"

4. Sheet

He showed her the chicken tent, the pigs, and the cattle (with their parents trailing behind, of course- Dad had a lot of business to talk and Vicky's parents didn't seem to mind he was there, even if Vicky still gave him weird sideways looks like she couldn't decide just what to make of him). But little by little… those shoulders that looked like tall fenceposts started coming down like a gate sinking underwater.

Then he showed her something super interesting over her shoulder while he tore down the sheet with the name Dimmadome scrawled across it. Look… Is it so wrong to want a friend who likes you without asking about your dad getting rich?

He ignored the confused looks the cows shot him as he bunched the paper in his hand.

5. Resonant

Y'know what? There was something REALLY funny about watching the awkward kid jump about 10 feet in the air (skeleton practically leaping from his skin) when a piercing whistle carried through the air.

"Th-that's my dad," Dale stuttered. "I have to go. Um. 'Bye."

Huh. So, did he not like to add the 'good' in 'good-bye' either? Maybe he's more self-aware of the crushing weight of existence than I thought. Not the worst quality in a friend.

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