#a short for monday

[jacqcrisis]

Zeke at the engagement party, absolutely anxious out of his mind with all the unfamiliar eyes on him and drinking to keep himself from looking like he’s going to start biting. Doesn’t help anything that he’s supposed to be talking, getting to know people, make a good first impression so Jade’s in-laws don’t kidnap their daughter back on account of her openly hanging around a bunch of devilfolk with her soon-to-be-wife. And they ain’t keen on Zeke; won’t meet his gaze but keep staring at him when they think he won’t notice. 

But there’s one pair of eyes he’s more than happy to see. Jade followed through, got Caleb here even if she had to pay him. Even if he ain’t hanging around and talking to people and available for Zeke to adhere himself to like some kind dirty piece of tape so the people in the room are looking at someone else, he’s still here, goofy smile, tight ass, and all. 

It ain’t like Caleb makes it magically better, but having somewhere to focus, to give the hamster on it’s wheel in his head something to squeak about... Well that’s just invaluable. Keeps him from saying something uncouth to the future inlaws cause his ticker is going a mile a minute and his mouth works faster than the hamster sometimes.

Of course, the cosmic kind of irony ain't lost on Zeke as he listens to Jade and Alex talk about their engagement and future wedding. It's a kind of sadness, one he don't know how to describe, where his insides are on the floor yet nothing put them there. There's no resentment, no frustration, no real yearning, yet as his friend looks at her fiancée, Zeke just feels empty from it.

And then there's Caleb, who's easy to look at, who's fucking looking at Zeke anyways, and that's where he finds the yearning. A longing he don't feel much any more since he gave up on finding a relationship. He knows he shouldn't feel that, ain't helping nothing and there's no chance in hell it'd get him anywhere but...

Zeke's not stupid. He may be dumb, but he ain't stupid. Caleb projects like a motherfucker and if he weren't... if they weren't the way they were, they'd have more than a chance. You don't take the time and spend the money and put in the effort Caleb has every week with someone as uninteresting and out of his approved social circle as Zeke without it meaning something more than it should.

If that ain't a goddamn bitch of a situation, then Zeke don't know what it is. He can't do much about it though and he ain't telling Caleb and his goofy self to get out, so here he is: at a party he's never going to be able to have for himself with a guy he's never going to get to keep.

But he can still look. Can still appreciate the distraction and enjoy the show Caleb makes with his tight shirt and his smile and his little flourish while he schmoozes party guests to fill his tip jar. Can still preen under his attention, make a joke of it, invite it more for the excuse to hand it back. He can't act on anything, but he can play a bit, flirt a bit, push a bit, see how shiny that papery backbone is...

Sure, he doesn't get to have Caleb again, but he does get to touch him again. Just a little. Just for a time. Just enough to have Caleb melt against him, bite his lip and look at Zeke like that.

People stare a lot. Just the nature of the beast, even in this city with every flavor of devil hanging around. Sometimes curiously, sometimes maliciously, always a little afraid of something they ain't seen before because thats how its supposed to be. Humans ain't supposed to be seeing changelings and they ain't a fan of being seen, just the natural order of things.

But Zeke likes the way Caleb sees him, even if it can't mean any more than they let it.

[badwaves]

struggling to remain stoic in the face of having a nice day with your dad and his partner 😔

P.S. sorry fiddleford for covering up your fun shirt

[montereybayaquarium]

Leaping blennies

Need a boost this Monday? Well, here's a dash of motivocean for you! Leaping blennies are amazing amphibious fish. They can launch themselves off of rocks into the air sometimes up to 50 times their body length! Not only do they flash their red dorsal fins to communicate, but they can also live on land temporarily in tide pools and rocky coasts. These extraordinary terrestrial fish shore know how to make a splash, both in and out of the water! 💦💪

[hotluncheddie]

for the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt : skeleton

rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steve Harrington has bad parents, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, established relationship

🫂🫂🫂🫂

‘You wanna talk about it?’ Eddie asks.

Steve hums noncommittally. They’re smushed together in Eddie’s bed, sharing warmth under the too thin duvet and Steve wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else in the world.

‘About what’s got you so down? C’mon Stevie, share the skeletons in your closet.’ Eddie says, letting his fingers trace over Steve’s cheekbone and tug on a strand of hair lightly.

Steve scratched his nose, tries to untangle his chest. ‘It was uh, when I got home after that first time. After Nance and Jon and me, we, you know. And at the hospital. After that. My uh, my parents were home and it was fall and raining and basically just like the weather today.’ Steve starts, rambling. Uncomfortable.

‘Okay.’ Eddie says slowly and softly, like he doesn’t quite get why his parents being home would be so bad. But maybe he kinda does. Maybe it’s written all over Steve’s form, his being, actually.

‘I was uh, kinda beat up and like, freaking out again and they just.’ His voice cracks. ‘They just told me to go to bed. Like, it. They just.’ Steve’s words trickle away from him, flooded by the tears welling in his eyes.

Eddie holds him tighter, scoots closer. Their bodies intertwined.

‘They don’t. They’d never. When I cried they’d just tell me to stop I. I can’t remember. Can’t remember them ever doing anything but telling me to stop.’ He manages, voice and cheeks wet. His fingers picking at the sheets.

‘Oh baby.’ Eddie soothes, stroking Steve hair.

Steve crumbles, face smushing into Eddie’s shoulder, crying big snotty tears into his T-shirt.

Eddie holds him. Eddie holds him until he’s finished.

Never once tells him to stop.

🫂🫂🫂🫂

Tag list (let me know if u want to be added/removed) : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[liz-on-leash]

thoughts on volleyball team captain monday who gets injured and fucked rough by the trainer cause she cant get away from him?

This is the first "thoughts" type of ask that I've received. Not sure how to reply to this other than by creating a short scenario for it, lol.

T/W: Rape, Injured

(Images for visual purposes only.)

Monday, the volleyball team captain, is laid out on a wooden stool in the locker room, her slender frame barely contained by a tight shirt and booty shorts. Her ankle is swollen from a nasty sprain during practice, causing her to grimace as she tries to put weight on it.

As the team trainer, you witness her struggle and approach with a cruel grin. "Looks like someone's hurting," your voice cold and indifferent. Monday, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder, gazes up at you with fear in her eyes, aware of your reputation as a ruthless, sadistic trainer. "It's killing me," she confesses, her voice strained and pained.

Without warning, you seize her injured ankle, applying pressure. Monday screams, her eyes wide with shock and agony. "What the hell? Let go!" She attempts to kick you with her good leg, but you predict her move and easily dodge.

"Chill, captain. This will aid your recovery," you lie, twisting her ankle further, disregarding her protests. Her screams reverberate in the room, her body writhing on the stool, hands clutching the edges tightly, her pert breasts straining against her shirt.

Leaning in close to her ear, your breath warm on her neck, you murmur, "You know, Monday, I've always fancied screwing the volleyball team captain. And now, with that ankle, you're not going anywhere." She freezes, realizing your intentions, horror filling her eyes. "What the... No, please, don't be insane!"

Ignoring her pleas, you unveil your already stiff cock, freed from your pants. It twitches with anticipation, pre-cum glistening. Her eyes widen, fixated on your girth. "No, please, I'm injured. Don't do this!" She tries to scramble away, but her injured ankle betrays her, sending a jolt of pain through her leg, causing her to cry out and freeze.

You chuckle, relishing her fear. Then, in one swift move, you rip open her booty shorts, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room. Her smooth, shaved pussy is exposed, pink lips glistening with arousal despite her protests. "Look at that, your snug little snatch is ready for me, captain."

She shakes her head vigorously, locks flying. "No, it's not like that! Please, just let me go, I—" Her words are cut off by a sharp slap across her face, the sound echoing. "Shut up, slut. Your body betrays you. It craves a real man to take charge."

You waste no time, spitting in your hand and using it to lubricate your cock. Aligning your throbbing tip with her tight entrance, you thrust forward. Monday screams at the top of her lungs, eyes rolling back, back arching off the stool. Her pussy is tight and warm, clenching around your cock as you bury yourself deep in one stroke.

Her hands push against your chest, nails digging into your skin as she resists. "Get off me, you sick bastard! I hate you! I hate you!" she screams, voice hoarse. You grip her slender throat with one hand, applying enough pressure to restrict her breathing, and begin pounding her. Her injured leg hangs off the stool, useless as you violate her.

With each forceful thrust, her buttocks lift off the stool, breasts bouncing with the impact. Her cries fill the room, a mix of pain and unwanted pleasure. "That's it, scream for me, bitch. Bet your tight pussy's never been fucked this good," your voice laced with lust and dominance.

Monday's eyes are wild with panic and fury as she realizes escape is futile. Her hands grasp at your wrists, attempting to push you away, but she's no match for your strength. "No, stop, please! It hurts! You're tearing me apart!" Her words only fuel your desire, and you quicken your pace, balls slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust.

The room echoes with the sounds of your hips colliding, your grunts, and her desperate sobs. Her juices coat your cock, a blend of her arousal and your pre-cum. Her body trembles beneath you, her once-tidy shirt now riding up, exposing her breasts, heaving with each violation.

Leaning down, your mouth near her ear, you whisper, "You belong to me now, Monday. This tight cunt is mine to fuck whenever I want." She shakes her head, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Never... I'll never be yours... I hate you..."

Her defiance only stokes your sadistic desires, and you reach between her legs, finding her clit. Rubbing it roughly, you feel her body respond despite her protests. "No, don't touch me there! Please, I can't—!" She pleads, voice breaking as her body betrays her, building toward an unwanted orgasm.

You chuckle, her pussy clamping even tighter around your cock. "Your body says otherwise, slut. Come for me, and I might just stop." Your fingers work her clit, while you continue thrusting relentlessly. Monday's breath catches, back arching off the stool as an intense orgasm washes over her.

"Nooo!" she screams, body shaking uncontrollably as her pussy contracts around your cock. Her juices flow freely, coating your balls as she experiences a powerful release. Eyes shut tight, face a mix of agony and pleasure, she endures the most intense orgasm of her life.

Feeling her pussy milking your cock, you climax inside her, cum mixing with her fluids. Growling, you bite her neck hard, marking her as yours. Monday whimpers, body spent, violated, and bruised.

Finally withdrawing, your cock slick with cum and her essence, Monday lies motionless, body battered and mind traumatized. Opening her eyes, filled with tears and loathing, she spits at you, "I hope you rot in hell for this."

Smirking at her defiance, you zip up your pants. "Anytime, captain. Your tight pussy is always open to me." With that, you turn and leave her broken in the locker room.

[colourofthekites]

I'm gonna need someone to call me a good boy for putting up with my job

[teddybearty]

Using an Oral Hygiene Product 💀

[wrathkitty]

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: I Don't Care How Adorable You Are Under the Helmet, Getting Roofied by a Mandalorian Was Not in the Brochure

You tear your eyes away from the stunning view – Mando presumably convinced everyone not to kill you, so there should be plenty of time to be awestruck later – and turn back to Paz Vizsla. 

“Hi,” you say evenly, deciding it best to speak first. “I can do it.”

You reach out to take the medkit…

…and watch in utter disbelief as Paz proceeds to raise his arm, and dangles the grey box high in the air above your head. 

“You cannot be serious,” you exclaim, stunned. What is he, five? 

He doesn’t budge.

“Back to your corner.” His sneer is audible from under the helmet, and his voice drops to a growl as he adds, “Or I will put you there myself.”

Zip!

Before you can tell Sasquatch to kiss what you can’t, something small and silver flies towards Paz’s extended arm; a moment later, the medkit seemingly yanks itself out of his grip and crashes to the ground. For one wild second, you think this must be the work of the Force, but mystical energy fields have nothing to do with it: Mando had hauled himself up to fire his grappling hook, sparing you from Paz’s one-man game of monkey-in-middle. The beskar behemoth will not be deterred, however, and lunges to grab the medkit back. 

You snatch the dagger from your boot and level it at his throat. 

“One step closer and I will totally stab you in your sleep,” you threaten, brandishing the weapon with all the confidence of someone who can boast a one hundred percent success rate of stabbing things and also knows their victim does not realize they have stabbed a grand total of only one thing.

Link to main fic: Short Debts Make Long Friends - An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.

(Reblog and get your own snippet from the next chapter)

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[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 12/08 // ‘Terrible Things’ by Mayday Parade

wc: 530  // rating: M // cw: references to sexual content, references to parental abuse // tags: angst, mutual pining, bad parental figures, unhealthy relationships

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

They’re not together.

Steve comes to the trailer almost every night, waiting until after Wayne’s left for work, or sneaking through a window. But they’re not together.

Eddie’s heart jumps in his chest when he answers the door. His eyes flutter shut when Steve’s lips meet his. Eddie could swear their hearts beat as one when their chests are pressed against each other. When Steve is inside him, he feels whole. They lay together in the cramped bed after, shared joints passed back and forth, arms around each other, heads on chests, sweet nothings whispered. But they’re not together.

Steve leaves before the sun comes up. Kisses Eddie on the lips—soft, sweet, romantic—and says he’ll be back the next night. Which he will. Eddie wants to ask him to just stay. Almost does, every time he leaves. But he can’t. Because they’re not together.

Eddie wants to, but he won’t bring it up. Because he remembers the way his father yelled. The way his mother cried. How they always fought, with Eddie hiding under his bed to get away from the noise. His mother would apologise and hold him, a sole source of comfort in their house. He remembers how awful it was when she passed, and that his father was even angrier then. Eddie has never seen a relationship that went well. Where people were actually happy. He doesn’t believe anyone can have it, let alone him. So they’re not together.

Because what they have now is good. And it’s all Eddie will let himself have.

———

They’re not together.

Eddie welcomes him with a light in his eyes that Steve only sees in the evening, and his heart aches to see it. But they’re not together.

Steve longs for the feeling of his lips on Eddie’s, of his hands in his hair, of Eddie’s teeth biting his neck. Thinks endlessly about the sounds Eddie makes when Steve enters him, taking his time, drawing it out for as long as he can. Even more, he craves the time they spend together after. The soft trailing of fingertips against hot skin, the gentle embraces, the intimacy of shared cigarettes, the ghost of their lips still on the filters. But they’re not together.

Eddie always feels so far away. No matter how close they are physically, there’s a distance. Like Steve’s being held at arm’s length. And he wants to chase. He wishes he could. But he knows when he’s not wanted, so he doesn’t. Because they’re not together.

Steve wants to talk about it, but he’s scared. Because he still feels empty when he thinks about his parents leaving him alone. Still remembers how they never had enough time for him, how they barely tolerated each other. The cold indifference that they regarded him with only rivalled by that which they treated each other with. Despite how much he wants to chase, to go after the thing he wants, he holds back. He knows better than to chase someone who doesn’t want him. Steve keeps himself safe, leaves before he can get hurt. So they’re not together.

Because what they have is enough. And Steve convinces himself it’s all he needs.

[jjolees]

What the moon hides episode 5

[sage-nebula]

It happened, as things so often did, like a bolt from the blue on one of Pacifica's rare days off from work at the diner.

It was the height of summer and so hellaciously hot, even for—no, especially for Oregon. Having lost access to the private pools and yachts after her father's investments into Cipher capital during Weirdmageddon four years prior, Pacifica found herself at the Gravity Falls community pool, lounging on a pool chair after layering SPF 50 on her skin, and silently telling herself over and over that it was always morally correct to block her parents' numbers on her days off, and that her father probably hadn't yet found where Pacifica's pet rescue opposum, Susanna, had hidden the bell yet, so there was no need to worry.

(Pacifica had rescued Susanna from the diner kitchen two summers ago, when she was fourteen. Susanna was technically a male oppossum, but something about him reminded Pacifica of Lazy Susan, so Susanna he was.)

But it was at that moment that deep laughter followed by a higher pitched "shut up!" and even more laughter from both voices broke through Pacifica's inner mantras. She opened her eyes to see that both of the Pines twins, having once again made their yearly visit to Gravity Falls, had also chosen to visit the pool that day.

Pacifica swallowed hard.

For all that she had tried to deny it even to herself in her tween and early teen years, by now Pacifica had long since accepted that she found Dipper Pines attractive. It was impossible not to, with the way he came back taller each summer, his shoulders increasingly more broad as he grew into the physique promised by his great uncles (or his Great Uncle Ford, anyway), a little stubble that he "forgot" to shave always left around his chin, and his sideburns. Oh, his sideburns. Pacifica hated how much she loved Dipper's sideburns. It was beyond cringe, and the only other living soul who would ever know about her crush was Susanna, but Pacifica Northwest did indeed have a crush on Dipper Pines. She knew, and accepted, this about herself.

But then, on that hellaciously hot summer day at the community pool, Mabel Pines took her sweater off right in front of Pacifica's eyes.

Mabel pulled her sweater up over her head, and it was as if time slowed down. Mabel's arms were just as toned and strong (if not maybe a little more toned, the way the sunlight hit her muscles) than Dipper's. She had been wearing a bikini under her sweater—a pink one decorated with stars that fit her perfectly—and her thousand watt smile revealed she'd finally gotten her braces off to reveal a set of dazzling teeth. And when she tugged her hair free from her ponytail, it swished around her in a cascade of long, brown waves.

Dipper had thrown his tanktop onto a pool chair, and Mabel followed suit, throwing her sweater and hair tie on top of Dipper's shirt. But as Dipper was in the middle of saying something (they were too far for Pacifica to hear clearly), Mabel whipped back around with devilish speed and shoved him straight in the pool.

Mabel laughed uproariously as Dipper came back up for air, sputtering water and shaking his sopping bangs from his eyes. But he was only off guard for a second, and Mabel's mirth kept her off hers for longer. Dipper grinned wickedly and snapped his fingers around Mabel's wrist, yanking her in headfirst after him. Just as Dipper had before her, Mabel resurfaced immediately, though she had to use both hands to shove her curtains of damp hair out of her face. But her smile was just as impish as Dipper's own, and within seconds they were splashing each other, shrieking and laughing as they caused the biggest ruckus the pool had seen all day.

And as she watched them play, the water making their skin glisten and their smiles making their eyes sparkle, Pacifica felt a swarm of butterflies in her gut and a flash of heat in her face that had nothing at all to do with the summer sun above. She curled in on herself in her pool chair, and tugged her sun hat down over her face.

"Oh no."

[backfliips]

What's Become of You

Fic summary:

Wyll Ravengard was not a religious man, preferring the affairs of the mortal over the divine, but in the silent stillness of the lonely night, Wyll supposed his self-sacrifice was another form of devotion.

Chapter 8 summary:

“So,” Karlach said, leaning back on her hands and whistling a low note into the night. “Shar’s kind of a bitch, isn’t she?”

[andorshitdaily]

[transgenderfivepebbles]

tenma tuesday

[bethanythebogwitch]

Dry Beast Monday: chinchillas

For over a year now I've been doing weekly Wet Beast Wednesday posts where I do a deep dive on some aquatic animal, and you know what? I'm tired of it! This is now a dry beast blog!* And where better to start than an animal that can literally die if it gets wet? Beasts can't get much dryer than that. So strap in for the first Dry Beast Monday... Dmonday?... Drunday? Whatever, it's the chinchilla.

(Image: a pet chinchilla in a cage, standing upright on a wood platform that has been heavily chewed. It is a rotund mammal with a similar body plan to rabbits, featuring a large head distinct from a round body. Its hind paws are larger than the forepaws and have more distinct toes. Its eyes are almost completely black and it has a flat nose with very long whiskers. The ears are large, rounded, and mostly furless. The tail is bristly hair like a squirrel's and is curled up. Most of its fur is a dark grey but the fur on its underside is white. End ID)

Chinchillas are rodents (the best mammals, fight me) that are members of the family Chinchilladae along with the viscachas. There are two living species of chinchilla: the long-tailed chinchilla (Chinchilla lanigera) and the short-tailed chinchilla (Chinchilla chinchilla, formerly Chinchilla brevicaudata). The two species can produce sterile hybrid offspring. Domesticated chinchillas are descended from the long-tailed chinchilla. All chinchillas are medium-sized rodents with powerful back legs, long whiskers, large ears, and extremely dense fur. In comparison, the short-tailed chinchilla is larger and has a shorter tail, thicker and less distinct neck and shoulders, and smaller ears. The most famous feature of chinchillas is their fur. At about 20,000 hairs per square centimeter, chinchillas have the second densest fur of any mammal, second only to sea otters. Each hair follicle grows up to 50 hairs, compared to human follicles, which only grow 1. The fur is famous for being incredibly soft, often described as velvety. If you've never felt a chinchilla its really hard to describe just how soft they are. The fur is so dense because Chinchillas live in the highlands of the Andes mountains where it gets very cold. The fur is used for insulation and even with it being so thick, chinchillas still need to bask in the sun to warm themselves up. The fur is actually the reason why chinchillas can't get wet. Their fur is so dense that wanter can't evaporate easily, instead remaining around long enough for fungus to start growing in the fur. This can lead to a lot of different skin conditions and infections that can be lethal. When chinchillas bathe, they take dust baths. By rolling around in volcanic ash, the can work the ash into their fur, where it absorbs oils, moisture, and other contaminants. This keeps the fur clean and healthy. Domestic chinchillas need specially made dust for their baths. It cannot be substituted with sand or other materials. Chinchillas can release chunks of their fur in order to escape from predators, leaving the predator holding nothing but a tuft of hair while the chinchilla runs away. This is called fur drop and in domestic chinchillas it can be a sign of mishandling or stress. Wild chinchillas have grey fur, but domestic breeds have been bread to have other colors of fur, including white and black. Chinchillas can't sweat, which isn't a problem in their natural habitat, but is for domestic chinchillas. The only way for them to cool down is to expose their ears (which are hairless and heavily vascularized) to wind. Chinchillas in temperatures at or above 26 degrees C (80 F) are at risk of having heat strokes. Daytime in the Andes can exceed those temperatures, so chinchillas hide in burrows during the day. Chinchillas are very skilled at jumping, able to leap up to 1.8 meters (6 ft). Their hind legs are longer than the forelegs and provide propulsion when walking or jumping. The toes has fleshy pads called papillae that help them grip onto surfaces. Chinchillas live in arid, rocky conditions and are skilled at leaping between rocks. The tails act like rudders, providing stability and direction when leaping. The front feet are capable of gripping and picking up objects. Females tend to be larger than the males, but there is otherwise little visual difference between the sexes. Wild short-tailed chinchillas can reach 38 cm (including tail) and 800 grams while wild long-tailed chinchillas can reach 26 cm (including tail) and 450 grams. Domestic chinchillas can get up to twice the size of their wild relatives.

(Image: a wild long-tailed chinchilla sitting under a rock. Its body plan is the same as the pet chinchilla above, but its fur is a lighter grey End ID)

(Image: a short-tailed chinchilla in captivity. It has a less distinct neck than the long-tailed chinchilla, making it look like its head merges with the body. Its tail is shorter than that of the long-tailed chinchilla, making up about 1/5th of its length as compared to the long-tailed chinchilla's 1/3rd. End ID)

Chinchillas are social animals that live in colonies called herds that can reach up to 100 members. Females dominate the herds and can be aggressive toward each other, though physical fights are rare. The herd cooperates when finding food, always having at least one member acting as a lookout to spot predators while the rest feed. They communicate vocally, with 10 types of vocalizations on record for. Social behaviors include grooming, playing, and friendly nibbling of each other's ears. Pet chinchillas should never be kept alone. They should be in same-sex groups of at least 2. Chinchillas are crepuscular, active mostly at dawn and dusk. During the day and night, they are usually found hiding in burrows or crevices between rocks, where they can avoid predators and high or low temperatures. They are primarily herbivores, but will supplement their diets with insects and other bugs. Most of their diet consists of grasses, seeds, and succulents and cacti. Wild ones almost never drink water, instead getting all of their hydration from their food. Chinchilla digestive systems are fairly specialized to their food. Domestic chinchillas need special-formulated food and can only have wooden chew toys form certain species of wood. Fresh or dried fruit is good for a treat, but should not be a regular part of their diet as they have a lot of sugar. As with all rodents, the incisors grow continuously through the animal's entire life and need to be worn down by chewing on things.

It is surprisingly hard to find good-quality images of wild chinchillas. Most of the time when you search for wild chinchilla pictures what you get are either domestic chinchillas or viscachas.

(Image: a trail-cam shot of two wild long-tailed chinchillas. The photo is i black-and-white. One is in the foreground on all fours while another is on its hind feet in the background, standing on a rock. The terrain is rocky and the chinchillas are next to a shrub. The camera's light makes their eyes appear to glow white. End ID)

(Image: a wild short-tailed chinchilla that is part of a relocation effort. Its fur is light grey with darker patches. A gloved human hand is reaching in from the right side of the image. End ID)

Male chinchillas appear to be fertile year-round, but females only enter estrus during the winter, from May to November in their natural habitat. Gestation takes around 120 days in both species and both species typically have two litters a year (a low rate for a small mammal). Offspring (called kits) are born well-developed, with fur and open eyes, and can run as soon as they are born. They nurse for 6-8 weeks before being weaned. 1-6 kits are born at a time, with 2 being the usual number. Chinchillas are monogamous, mating for life. Either partner can initiate mating, which they do so with hair-pulling. Unusually for rodents, male chinchillas do provide care for their offspring. Members of the same herd will help each other with parenting. Female chinchillas have been known to adopt the kits of other females who can't nurse due to health issues. Females are usually dominant due to their size. Chinchillas become sexually mature at around 8 months. In the wild they can live for 10 years, which is doubled in captivity.

(Image: an adult domestic chinchilla with a juvenile. The juvenile is smaller than the adult, with proportionally larger head and limbs and proportionally smaller tail. The two of them are nuzzling their snouts together. End ID)

The name chinchilla comes from the Chincha people of the Andes, who hunted chinchillas for their fur and meat. This hunting increased vastly after European colonization of South America. Between hunting and trapping, both species of chinchilla were brought to near extinction and vastly reduced their native range. Both species are now only found in Chile and have been granted legal protection. The IUCN switched their classifications between Vulnerable, Endangered, and Critically Endangered for a while. As of 2016, both species are classified as Endangered, upgraded from Critically Endangered as their populations have seen some improvement. Poaching, both for fur and capture for sale as pets, is still a large threat to wild chinchillas. Their close cousins, the viscachas, are doing much better as they were not hit as hard by the fur trade. The domestication of the long-tailed chinchilla is thanks to Mathias F. Chapman, an engineer who became fascinated with the animals after meeting a native person who was trying to sell one. He ended up getting permission from the government of Chile to capture several and import them to the USA. It took him 3 years to catch enough that he considered suitable for breeding, 11 in total. He then spend over a year gradually bringing them down from the highlands to sea level, giving them plenty of time to acclimate to the lower altitude. Once in the USA, Chapman started breeding his chinchillas in a farm in California, though he had to deal with medical problems and a thief stealing half of his stock. Eventually, though, his experiment paid off. The vast majority of all domesticated chinchillas today are descended from those original 11, brought to the states in 1923. Chinchillas today are raised in captivity for their fur, for use as laboratory animals, and as pets. While both species are raised in captivity for fur, the domesticated chinchilla is descended from the long-tailed chinchilla and short-tailed chinchillas apparently do not make as good pets.

(Image: a black-and-white photo of Mathias F. Chapman, a white man with a large nose wearing a shirt and tie. A chinchilla is standing on his leg and looking at the camera while he looks at the chinchilla. End ID)

* April Fools

[haxyr3]

There are four things I can't figure out: 1) why is it so sweet to sleep during the day? 2) why is it so sweet to munch at night? 3) where does my money go? 4) where does the dust come from?

This is a great example of real Russian!

спится - sleeping, when you want to say that in some certain conditions, you sleep well or can't sleep at all: Мне хорошо спится в прохладе. I sleep well in the cool.

жрётся - this is not a real word, but it is made as спится and means "I feel good/bad when eating in such and such conditions"

деваются - here -ся describes the image of the money going by their own will, it wasn't me who spent all the money!

берётся - and the dust comes out of nowhere, too.