#a liiiittle

[etchif]

buncha trains

[caroline-bunny]

15. fav scene (except there's no background and the rendering is messy oops sorry)

[pbnmj]

THE NOIR-HOBIE INTERACTIONS THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND ARE VERY REAL TO ME. SONY PLEASE PICK UP WHAT I’M PUTTING DOWN!!!

[pangur-and-grim]

Do you have any advice on finding ethical cat breeders? I've only ever adopted, but I'm hoping to get hairless (or slightly haired) breed in the future due to my partner's allergies.

oh sure, here's what sold me on the breeder I'm currently wait-listed for:

she lists the 40+ health tests her animals have gone through, and has the results uploaded onto her website

each cat has their coefficient of inbreeding visible

it's not a kitten factory. there are set times of year when breeding occurs (in this case, spring and fall)

breeding animals have short careers and then are retired, to avoid strain on their bodies, and allow them to live as pets

she attends cat shows to ensure her animals are meeting breed standards

there are rarely any kittens 'for sale', as most sales are done through a waitlist. this means that even before being born, most of the kittens she produces already have waiting homes.

she requires buyers to sign a contract saying that this will be an indoor cat, and that there will be no declawing

also in the contract: if for whatever reason you can no longer care for your cat, she will take it back and find a home for it.

doesn't breed for any unethical traits (extreme brachycephaly, manx tails, folded ears, lykoi fur mutation, munchkin legs, etc.)

doesn't make outlandish claims - anyone who breeds lower allergen cats should be forthright about the fact that no cat will truly be hypoallergenic, only less allergenic

requires the cat to have a feline companion if it is of a more social breed (oriental, siamese, devon rex, etc)

has a 2 year congenital health guarantee

there's probably more, but that's off the top of my head!

EDIT: as for your particular situation, aim for breeds that produce less of the protein in their saliva that triggers allergies. Devon Rexes (the breed I'm getting) are a double whammy in this regard, as they produce less of the protein, and shed less fur into their environment.

[urpersonalpublicgalaxy]

tried my hand at drawing him. mostly inspired by idw style

I think he slays but i dunno im in two minds abt it

[pochiikou]

[idolomantises]

I don’t do voice claim stuff a lot, but these are my preferred voices

[sk3tch404]

Heeey how yall doin AAHHHGHHAASHHGGFHHHH AHHHRGGHFGH

It's always him. This mf.

This wasn't an itch. It's a GODDAMN RASH.

I want to start drawing more complex/expressive things in my art bc I wanna realize my full potential as an artist. I also want to put more "horror" elements to emphasize the terror of yanderes lol

[doll-fac3d]

siffrins from school last week. schoolfrins if you will

second one is supposed 2 be like. the beginning cutscene from behind. I don't know if it reads well LOL

[megumiluvv]

Choso almost wants to laugh at how scared you look. One foot on the skateboard, refusing to lift the other. You had talked over what to do to skate, now you had to actually do it. He had a day off and Yuji was staying at Megumi’s, so it was the perfect time to.

“Come on, don’t be scared, just put your foot up with your other.”

You shake your head and cling to his shoulders.

“It’s gonna roll and I’ll fall.”

“You won’t fall, it won’t roll, I’m right here.” He slides his foot to keep the wheels from moving you. “Just step up.”

You take a deep breath and take the step, for some reason, it’s terrifying and you cling tighter to his shoulders. He moves his hands to your waist and holds you still.

“See? Didn’t fall, didn’t roll, and I’m still here. I’ve got you.”

You nod and take a breath, grip on his shoulders loosening.

“I think… I think we can move now.”

Choso nods, keeping his hands on your waist. “We’ll start slow, okay? Push forward with your foot. I won’t let go of you.”

You hesitate, so he tightens his grip where his hands are. “I promise, I’m not letting go.”

You take another deep breath and nod, pushing forward with your foot, when you move forward you panic a little and Choso makes you bend your knees.

“It’s just like the skating rink, all in the knees. Balance.”

You nod and hold his hands on your waist, pushing forward again and letting yourself balance as Choso walks along.

“There you go. I’m right here, not going anywhere.” He encourages. “When you’re more confident, push a little harder to go faster.”

You nod. After a few long and slow circles, you go a little faster to where Choso has to jog to keep holding you without dragging you back. After a minute or two of that, he speaks up.

“You think you can do it yourself now?”

“…Not that confident yet.”

“That’s alright, I won��t let go until you say so.”

“Thanks.”

After a few more minutes, you’re finally more confident and familiar with the feeling of circling the block, so you let go of his hands.

“I think I’m ready.”

Choso nods and slowly removes his hands from your waist, still jogging along in case you trip up or need to stop.

“You’re doing great!” He encourages again and stays as close as he can without worrying you about possibly running into him. After more circles, you look at him.

“How do I stop?”

Instead of answering, he swoops you into his arms. He holds you close and smiles. “We’ll work on that later.”

You stare up at him in admiration and surprise, heart fluttering and cheeks instantly flushing. “…thanks…”

He grins and sets you down, running to go grab his skateboard. “Wanna watch a movie and gave some dinner at my apartment?”

You nod, knowing he probably gets lonely when Yuji stays at a friend’s house. “What’s on the menu?”

He chuckles and walks with you back to the complex. “I was thinking about ordering wings.”

“Ooh, spicy?”

“If you want.”

You grin and follow him. “Order some dessert too.”

Taglist: @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

Masterlist

[post-it-notes7]

it's that time again

[wuntrum]

sing along 🎤

[astronicht]

23 or 24 for rosquez 🙏🙏

24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

I wrote a kind of soft one for the thigh-grabbing prompt and this is uh not like that. keeping the universe in balance! sorry in advance i guess. Kind of a companion piece, actually, to this earlier rosquez prompt snippet.

Valentino shakes awake from a dream in which someone is dead. The point at which there is a jolt into wakefulness is unclear. 

Daylight is too bright across the bed, and he can smell his own sweat. He reaches for Marc, but he isn’t used to Marc being here and goes for the wrong side of the bed. Valentino’s hand knocks over a glass of water, and a carton of pills on the side table. They skid onto the tile.

Marc isn’t in bed, exactly. He’s sitting on it, legs crossed, staring down at Valentino from the other side. One hand is braced on the mattress, taking a lot of his weight. He likes to put his weight on his bad arm, over and over. Valentino has seen him do it even when he thinks he is alone.

His good arm is holding a little espresso cup from the ranch kitchen. He is noticing Valentino’s mad scramble, but a little too slowly. His face is blank and far away.

Sometimes Marc goes very distant. It would be better if it were personal, but Valentino thinks it isn’t. He thinks the only person Marc can bear to stay present with, always, is his brother. For Valentino, this is much worse than if he simply couldn’t do it with anyone at all. It feels like penance.

“Vale?” Marc asks, that awful blankness creasing into a frown. The sharp nausea of the dream recedes, though someone is still dead.

Valentino rolls onto his elbows and stomach and rests his forehead on the mattress. He breathes, awful and shaky, but it’s better to get the bad breaths out until he’s running clean again.

“Vale?” Marc says again. His voice is less flat; he’s almost present, now. The smell of the espresso is overpowering.

“Marc,” Valentino says. His voice sounds like shit. His arms and thighs are a little tired, from fucking. “Did you figure out the espresso machine?”

“No,” Marc says slowly. The bed shifts. “No one will touch it. Bezzecchi made me a Turkish coffee.”

He’s lying. Marco doesn’t know how to make Turkish coffee, and if he did he wouldn’t be making one for Marc. It will have been Pecco. Vale is a little surprised. This means Pecco both arrived on time for morning practice and made Marc a coffee.

No one can actually work the espresso machine except for Vale, and previously, Uccio. There is no point mentioning this because Valentino does not say Uccio’s name to Marc.

The shaking is stopping. But like payback, the dropping feeling in his chest is getting worse. Valentino blinks his eyes open: bedding below him. It smells like semen. To his right is Marc, shifting, coming closer from wherever his mind was. There is a dripping sound: the glass Valentino knocked over on the nightstand. It is just water, but now it’s mostly on the floor.

He remembers reaching for Marc, because someone was dead. He had not been reaching for comfort. He had needed Marc or needed to be ill. This has not really changed.

“Is the coffee good?”

“Yeah,” Marc says. “Tell Bezzecchi nice job.”

That would be funny.

“Are you done, then?” Valentino asks.

“Sure,” says Marc.

Valentino grabs the back of his t-shirt and yanks backwards. He’s not delicate about it, and Marc instinctively snatches up the bad arm. He falls backwards onto the bed. He also lied about being done with the Turkish coffee; it splatters across Valentino’s chest and the shirt he fell asleep in sometime around six in the morning. It’s cold; Marc hadn’t even been drinking it. The smell is sweet and strong. The espresso cup hits the mattress and then thumps on the floor, trailing cold coffee grounds. You can read those like a palm or tea leaves, Vale has heard.

Valentino rolls onto Marc’s back. Under him, Marc tries to go up on his elbows— tries to lean on the bad one, lean on the bad one. Valentino grunts and doesn’t let him. It’s worth the effort: Marc groans, and says “Yeah, please—.” 

Vale fists a hand in his hair. Coffee grounds are between Vale’s fingers. His heart is going too fast.

They can’t have fucked that long ago, because they fucked at dawn right before Valentino fell asleep. Marc slept, off and on, cat-napping through Valentino’s long night, occasionally blinking like some nocturnal animal, once crying because Valentino made him come and then put Marc’s dick in his mouth and made him come again. 

Vale doesn’t know if it’s been an hour or if it’s been five since he last fucked Marc. Will he be able to get it up? He’d better. He needs to.

He holds Marc down on the bed with one hand at the back of Marc’s neck and with the other fishes around on the floor for the blister pack of pills. He gets one out with a near-steady hand and swallows it dry. Should work in twenty minutes, but Valentino has always burned through things fast, so it will be less.

Marc sees but ignores this. Valentino gets back on top of him and yanks his boxer-briefs down, nothing else. Marc says, “Ah—shit,” and arches his back. 

Valentino leans up and spreads his ass, spits on his hole. He can already feel himself starting to get hard; the pill wasn’t needed after all. Ah, well. Funny story later. His brain says that loudly over the feeling of sex: Funny story later. And, Someone is dead. He was dreaming. Water dripping. Marc on his bed here in Tavullia, first mask-like, now under him, moaning and twisting when Vale bites the back of his neck. 

Valentino wants to pound into him: ball-slapping, basic porn stuff. It is sort of crazy how he cannot stop thinking about it over and over, all night, not missing a moment. Marc was asleep a lot of the time, so Vale just watched him and wanted it, grinding his teeth, enjoying the wait — and waiting to need a break, to need a minute, a coffee, a nap. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, just knows he did sleep because of the nightmare. Marc under the line of his body bucks and says Valentino’s name.

Valentino rests his chin on Marc’s shoulder, and tries not to show that he’s breathless from holding Marc down the way Marc wants. He says into the shell of Marc’s ear, “Where did you go, hm? Have you been wandering around?”

And Marc laughs — a wheeze under Valentino’s body, as heavy as he can make it for Marc — and moans and says, eyes shut, “You were only asleep for twenty minutes.”

[blaithnne]

We don’t talk enough about how troll and witch magic shouldn’t mix, and Frida is a witch and Hilda is part troll. Makes me feel things man

[snufflepup]

Why is your attention on anything else other than me ? Am I not good enough ? What do I need to do to catch it. To keep it. To make you only look at me.

[jijidraws]

THIRSTY? 😈🧋✨

Boba babes! Done for Patreon in 2021 and this year. ♡ I’m trying to do one or two every summer for my sticker club! :3