#doghood

[zith-ipeth]

Why should I have to cover my form?

It’s annoying in all honesty, the cloth draped over my fur, a human construct, a human nature. It conceals a body that I put so much work into.

It was hard to learn to love it

It takes time to love the scars and bruises, it is an active process to watch canyon deep cuts in my skin turn into flowering valleys, the body doesn’t just become something lovable overnight

I had to forge my skin

Like heated metal is shaped by the hammer and claw, my flesh was shaped by scalpels and pills. My philosophy and thorough self deconstruction made my body red hot, so it could be molded by those external forces

Have you ever cried over something hideous

Not tears of sadness but tears of joy, the bandages came off and I cried because it was so much better than the alternative, because it felt like hell, but a hell I knew I could love not one I would have to live with in sorrow

The rest fell into place

My skin became fur my hands became paws and I learned that all it took to love all of me was the removal of that which I could never have loved. I put 6 years into loving this body and now, because of humanity, I’m told I need to cover it with sheets of cloth, molded to a form I forgot.

Let me feel it all

The wind on my bare chest, my fur rustling, my ears brushing against branches and leaves, my midriff against the mossy ground, my paws coated in dirt and sand…

Iet me show the world the most beautiful art I have ever made

The Self

————————————

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[unvexes]

but i’ve never enjoyed it.

[transfloppa]

edm fueled fursona doodle

no text variant under cut

[greatpain]

➥     STATUS  :  CLOSED  @doghoods ➥     FEATURING  :  AGENTEPSILON  +  AGENTVITALIS

          he  doesn't  enjoy  conducting  conversations  that  hold  weight  from  behind  the  safety  of  his  desk.  it  gives  an  illusion  of  power  that's  very  quickly  slipping  out  of  his  shaking  hands.  instead,  he  sits  comfortably  at  a  table  in  the  training  area  of  the  biomedical  wing,  practicing  suture  techniques  on  synthetic  flesh  because  one  can  never  be  too  confident  in  their  skills.     (     most  of  his  concentration  goes  into  ensuring  his  hands  are  stable,  that  he  is  the  absolute  picture  of  what  a  surgeon  should  be,  a  figure  for  agents  to  look  up  to,  not  condemn     )     "     you  are  holding  back  from  something.     "     needle  pierces  fake  skin,  and  he  pulls  the  thread  taut  without  looking.     "     there  is  no  one  else  here.  it  is  as  close  to  a  safe  place  as  we  can  get  right  now.  talk.     "

[fuctacles]

<< 12 | 0 | 14 >>

There's thunderous knocking on the door and it startles Eddie out of his sleep.

He needs a moment to readjust, but Robin isn't the type to give anyone even a second, so his brain catches something about a nut before it's quiet again. He blinks at the white ceiling above him.

"What."

"She said she's gonna grab some bread and doughnuts from the bakery," Steve murmurs next to him so he turns his head, suddenly remembering that he's in his friend's bed, and it's the day of their little party. 

He immediately snatches his gaze back up. 

"Why the fuck are you naked?!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Steve rolls in the sheets to cover up some of his body. He doesn't sound very sorry. "Must have shifted in my sleep."

Eddie eyes him with curiosity. 

"You weren't naked last time."

"Huh?" 

Steve lays on his side to listen to him, and with his bare chest and tousled hair, he looks way too relaxed for the circumstances. It is his bed, duh, but he's looking at Eddie all naked and sleepy and it feels... not wrong per se, but it makes his stomach churn in a new way. 

"When you slept over at the trailer, you had clothes."

"Oh," Steve frowns, trying to remember that day. "I guess I changed to use the bathroom and didn't bother turning back."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

"So you draw the line of doghood at peeing outside?"

"Don't call it doghood," Steve scrunches his nose in distaste. "I couldn't open the front door with my paws anyway. Otherwise, I do pee in Dinkleberg's garden quite often," he admits. 

"No way," Eddie grins at the information. "Do you shit outside too?"

Steve makes a face. 

"I did once. It felt too weird not being able to wipe, but his face was worth it."

Eddie bursts out laughing.

"You're so gross, man!" he says, pushing at Steve's shoulders so he loses his balance and falls against the pillows.

"You asked!"

"What if we—" a snort interrupts him and he falls forward, pressing his temple against his friend to find his bearings. "We can install a pet door for you? Wait, no, you're kinda big for that. If I wrap some rope against the handle, could you open it? I have a neighbor who really deserves some urine in his slippers."

Steve groans, pushing Eddie away.

"Well, who's being gross now?"

"I'm still not the one who shits in my neighbor's yard!" Eddie protests, but Steve is already leaving the bed with an indignant huff, and his body is suddenly on full display. "Dude!" he squawks, shielding his gaze from his friend's naked butt.

"Oh come on, we have the same parts!" Steve turns to him, but his dick moves along, making Eddie disappear under the covers.

"It's not about the parts, It's about human decency!" 

"Well, I'm not fully human, so..." Steve points out, but it does sound like he's opening his wardrobe. "And I walk around naked all the time."

Eddie thinks about it for a second. 

"Well, yeah, but then you're not—"

He cuts himself off. 

But then you're not attractive. 

"I'm not what?"

In his scramble for a comprehensive answer, Eddie escapes the confines of bed covers, hoping he'll provide more oxygen for his brain this way. But with his terrible timing, he emerges at the perfect moment to catch Steve's naked, bent-over ass just before it gets covered by a pair of boxers. 

Lord have mercy. 

"Not human," he finishes lamely, all coherent thoughts suddenly gone. 

Steve scoffs, turning around with his dick finally out of sight. 

"Yeah, I'm not," he agrees easily, way too easily, before grabbing a pair of jean shorts. "You can take whatever you want to wear," he motions to the open closet, already walking towards the door. 

"And for the record, I didn't shit in Dinkleberg's yard, I did it on his doormat," he adds before leaving the room, leaving Eddie to stare at where he disappeared. 

====

Eddie's glad their mismatched group includes people who know the basics of barbequing and he doesn't have to get involved. There's also the card of "I helped with preparations so fuck off" that he can pull anytime anyone gives him the stink eye. This way, he can keep his distance and just observe. His scheming seems to be paying off and the seeds he planted in the little goblins and the dog-man himself, had taken root. 

Steve sits on the warmed ground while Robin's hand is in his hair, and El feeds him whatever she didn't like from her skewer. He's heard Dustin praise the burgers. Dustin. Everyone has been contributing to making Steve feel more appreciated, either with words, physical touch, or even small gestures, like Max bringing him an extra Coke from the cooler. 

So that was all great. But among his observing, Eddie notices some new things too. 

Like Steve's hairy chest. How his muscles move with each movement and how he absentmindedly rubs on his scars. The way the moles on his cheek jump when he smiles and his shorts fill out when he bends. 

Has it always been there?

Or more importantly, has Eddie always been interested in his friend?

He'd entertained the idea of fancying men ages ago but shoved it aside at the way easier, less problematic prospect of women, their tiny skirts, and the wild rocker chicks. So the gay thing isn't the scariest part, but rather the fact that he wasn't aware. 

Now he can't help but think that his whole 'helping a friend out' thing had ulterior motives behind it, conceived deep in his subconscience. Getting closer to Steve, spending time with him, touching him, oh god he's been touching him so much. He'd look at his hands in betrayal if he wasn't holding food. 

He takes a bite out of his hot dog but finds it cold and dry, which makes him wonder how long he's been people-watching instead of interacting with his friends like a normal human being. When he looks up again, he meets Steve's gaze and suddenly realizes he's making very unattractive open-mouthed movements with his jaw. Eddie clicks his mouth shut and forces himself to swallow, but thankfully, Steve seems to find it more amusing than disgusting. 

Not that it would matter if Steve found him unattractive and repulsive or anything. 

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1

@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible

@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phatomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets

@ravenfrog

[canidbld]

( 🐾 ) — dog terms that describe a canine experience :

Caninehood

Canineness

Doghood

Dogkinity

Puphood

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 1

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Read it on AO3 here<

Scott blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden change in light. It had been night time in Chromia when he’d been warned by Grian of the impending summoning. Now he was in the bright morning light on a brand new server, surrounded by familiar faces. 

Well, not as familiar as he had been expecting. 

“Are we furries?” he heard Jimmy question, standing a few players down from him. 

Scott felt his ears twitch, a startling sensation in and of itself. His hands moved to the sides of his head, but only found his wavy blue hair. Before he could migrate his touch further, to see if he looked similar to the equally confused gaggle of players around him, Grian grabbed his attention.

Grian clapped his hands, “You all know the gist. Season six, three lives each. Reds are hostile. Three, two, one, bye!”

Scott blinked several more times as his fellow players sprinted in varying directions, screeching chaotically. After a second to process he quickly followed suit, dashing backwards from spawn and into what he soon realized was a Dark Oak Forest. 

Not ideal, he thought to himself, but he was already in the thick of it. He started hacking away at the bark with his bare hand and let his mind wander up to the sky.

Season six, Scott repeated in his head. Six times now he had found himself summoned, chosen by those beings he still did not quite comprehend to participate in a death game amongst some of his closest friends. The details changed but the goal always remained the same: last player standing wins. Wins what? Scott had already won and he still did not know. He’d been given audience with the beings, but they had looked at him with derision more so than any kind of admiration or praise for his victory. It had been hard to concentrate, or think in their presence. He could not even look at them without a piercing pain behind his eyes. 

 Despite knowing this, the drive to win was ever-present. Even if it would all be for naught in the end. He would spend a few blissful months in his empire only to be whisked away with just a quick warning on his comms, to return to the bloodbath. 

He finished punching down the tree, yielding himself quite a bit of wood in the process. He crafted a table and got to work on a simple pickaxe. It was only then while digging through his inventory that he spotted the book. 

He pulled it out, cracking it open to read: 

Welcome to Wild Life! You are a Cat!  … What? Did you expect further explanation? Where’s the fun in that? Good luck!

As he closed the book, he vanished it from his hands and back into his inventory. He frowned. “Why do you always have to be such a menace, Grian,” Scott sighed. 

“That’s not very nice,” Grian said. 

Scott shrieked, one hand moving to clutch at his heart as he whirled around. There, he found Grian, wearing his typical red sweater and already boasting an iron sword in his hand. Atop his messy mop of light brown hair were two fluffy pointed ears. 

“Grian! You scared me!”

Grian laughed, putting his sword away. “Guess that means you’re a scaredy cat.”

Scott rolled his eyes, feeling something behind him flick back and forth. He glanced backwards to find he had a blue-gray tail, long and puffed up from fright. His ears pinned back in embarrassment, and his hand moved up to touch them atop his head to finally examine them. They felt pointed, just like Grian’s, but perhaps larger. 

Right. He’d made a point not to really think about it.

“Did you not notice?” Grian continued, a giggle still coating his words. 

“Of course I noticed,” Scott grumbled, “Jimmy’s comment soured any sort of interest quite quickly.”

Grian snorted. 

“You have no business calling me a scaredy cat when you’re a feline too,” Scott continued. 

“I wish,” Grian sighed, “But pointy ears aside, I’ve been cursed with doghood.” 

“Oh?” Scott blinked, trying to look closer to see if he could figure out the difference. But Grian took a step back. 

“Got to go,” Grian said quickly, “Oh and, watch out for the skeleton behind you,” he added, before darting away through the trees. 

As if on cue, an arrow pierced into Scott’s shoulder, lurching him forward. He twisted around to find the skeleton just one tree down, shaded by the thick canopy of Dark Oak leaves. Scott cursed under his breath, running a few meters away before taking some of his spare planks and towering up above the tree line. He took in a breath, ripping out the arrow with another curse on his lips. 

“You couldn’t have spared me an iron ingot for a shield, Grian!?” Scott shouted out into the air in exaggerated annoyance. He wiped some sweat from his brow before returning to holding his injured shoulder. He needed food. That shot had taken nearly a third of his health away–

He only had nine hearts. 

He blinked, recounting them in his head, but no, instead of the normal ten he only had the outline of nine. For a moment he feared they were playing without regeneration again, but no, the silhouettes of two and a half hearts remained. 

He pursed his lips. This might be a cat thing. He would need to get a feather and ink sac to start jotting down these observations if part of this game was to discover their own abilities. 

He supposed that gave him a place to start. He should keep an eye out for fellow felines to exchange information with while he hunted down some food. He kept to the treetops, hoping between leaves, careful not to fall into any gaps in case he lost even more hearts. How embarrassing would it be to become the first yellow on day one.

Eventually, he found the edge of the forest, where the Dark Oak gave way to a small stretch of grass before easing into water. From his high vantage point he could see it was a large lake. He could just barely see the shadow of the coast on the other side. 

He hopped down carefully, digging along the coast until he found some stone. From there it was simple to craft a set of stone tools and a furnace. He slipped into the cold water and drew out his sword. He managed to swipe at a few cod and was able to return to grass relatively quickly. 

He shivered, shoving some dark oak logs into the furnace and throwing the fish over it. He was so hungry even their raw form made his mouth water. But no, he wasn’t an animal–

Well, maybe he was. As he chewed on his cooked cod, he ventured closer to the lake’s edge to look at himself properly. His large blue gray ears twitched atop his head and his long tail swayed behind him. He curled it, watching, a bit mesmerized, as the appendage moved under his control. In his reflection he saw the shimmer of another player behind him, hopping down from the treetops. 

He waited, pretending not to notice the intruder to see what they were up to. But the man quickly gave way his position by calling out, “Oho! Is that food I smell?”

Scott snorted, turning around lazily to face his visitor. Etho stood right in front of the furnace, poking at the still cooking cod with his iron sword. How did everyone already have iron?

“Can I have a bite?” Etho asked, “I’m starving.”

“Dog or cat?” Scott asked instead, hopping atop his furnace to look down at the taller man. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Etho raised a brow. His pointed white ears swiveled, and his fluffy white tail swished behind him. 

“I’ve been fooled already,” Scott replied, lifting his hand to push some stray blue strands behind his ears. He failed in his endeavor, his ears no longer there at all. He frowned.  

“I’ll give you a hint,” Etho said, lifting his hand to make a little paw motion by his masked cheek, “Meow.”

Scott laughed, retrieving one of his pieces of cod and tossing it to Etho, who easily caught it. From his own inventory he took out two oak logs, setting them down on the grass. He took a seat on one, and Scott joined him on the other – reluctantly, suddenly missing the cozy warmth of the furnace. 

“Still working with stone, eh?” Etho pointed out. 

Scott huffed, “Well excuse me for being a bit careful and not barreling into the first hole in the ground I find.” 

Etho dug through his inventory, handing him a stack of ten or so iron ingots. Scott’s eyes widened. 

“A bunch of us found an above ground vein,” Etho explained, and even though Scott couldn’t see his mouth he knew he was sporting a cheeky grin, “There’s a mountain on the northside of the map. It was all snatched up within ten minutes I’d say,” Etho laughed. 

“By you?” Scott asked with a raised brow. 

“Not just me,” Etho replied. “Have you met anybody else so far?”

“Just Grian,” Scott said, “He’s a dog.”

“Is he?” Etho blinked, “Looked feline to me. He made out with the most iron, I think. Him and Gem. She’s definitely a cat.”

“Did you see anyone else?’ Scott probed. 

“Bdubs is a dog,” Etho counted out on his fingers, “Cleo is a dog too. Honestly, I think all of my friends are canines.” His ears pinned closer to his head, “They all ran off together pretty quickly.”

Scott placed his chin in his hand, logging the information away. He wondered if it was worth searching out Gem, then. However, they had teamed up just last game, and Scott did his best to switch up his allies as much as he could in these sessions. 

Their pockets lit up and they both brought out their comms to see new messages flashing on their screens. 

Skizzleman > DOGS RULE ImpulseSV > CATS DROOL InTheLittleWood > based Smajor1995 > rude.

Scott put away the comms after he finished typing his response, “Well, I suppose we can assume what those three are.”

Etho sighed, standing up from the log. Scott mirrored him. After all, the sun was past the midpoint and he hadn’t made much progress at all. He really should find himself a cave after he finished crafting a set of tools with the donated iron. Caves were always so dangerous in the early game…

“Seems like the dogs are sticking together,” Scott said casually. His tail flicked as he looked up at Etho, “Perhaps we should form our own feline alliance?”

“Fe-liance,” Etho offered, which made Scott snort. “Sure, but we should probably find a good spot to hunker down. We don’t have much daylight left.”

Scott shoved the rest of his items back into his inventory, giving a quick glance around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. With that, he and Etho started walking, following the edge of the lake with the Dark Oak forest to their left. 

“Something’s happening out there,” Etho commented, pointing out toward the lake. 

Scott squinted, making out the vague silhouette of something being built out in the middle of the lake. It was too far to really make out exactly.

“If only we had a spyglass,” Etho sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he continued his leisurely pace. 

“I bet they’re in trident range,” Scott replied. Etho laughed. 

“And you’re in my range!” 

Scott looked up, watching as someone shot down from the heavens, spinning in a tight circle as he went. He landed right in front of them, facing the wrong direction. He quickly corrected himself, but even without facing them, Scott would recognize Joel’s vest and linen shirt combo anywhere. Of course, now he was also sporting some brown cat ears and a brown and black striped tail. 

He grinned at them, “360 spin jump from sky limit. Impressive, am I right?”

Scott raised a brow, shifting so he could look past Joel and see that he did have a tower of cobble going up into the sky. “I knew you were a thrill seeker, but that seems more like a death wish to water bucket clutch on day one.”

“Have you learned nothing from me?” Etho added, “At least boat it.”

Joel blinked at them, “...You’re both cats right?”

“Yeah?” Scott started, glancing over at Etho who simply shrugged. 

Joel’s confusion seemed to give way to a manic sort of grin. His tail swayed back and forth and the entire display gave Scott the urge to bristle. Joel could be so infuriatingly smug sometimes. Maybe all the time.

“Joel!” 

Joel turned his head, tail perking up straight, “Over here, Lizzie!”

“You’ve wasted all my cobble!” Lizzie complained, coming into view. She sported a pair of ears folded down slightly on her head, the fur a soft orangey-pink. Her tail was especially fluffy, similar to Etho’s. 

“It was necessary,” Joel brushed off. “Had to make sure you were right.”

“Well, now you owe me for the cobble and the information,” Lizzie huffed, “Give me a bucket.”

“I don’t have a bucket,” Joel snapped back. 

“But I saw an axolotl!” Lizzie whined. Joel sighed, digging through his inventory and throwing three iron ingots into his wife’s arms. 

She squealed, “Okay, thanks, bye forever!”

Joel rolled his eyes, but his smile was soft and fond, so unlike the manic look he’d worn before. 

“That was quite cold of you, Joel,” Scott commented. 

“What?” Joel said, turning back to look at them, “I gave her the iron!”

“You could have just given her your bucket.”

“I don’t have one. Are your new ears not working properly?”

Scott pressed his lips into a thin line. Did Joel think he was an idiot? 

“Joel, do you have a base yet?” Etho asked. 

Joel’s shoulders immediately loosened, looking over at the white cat hybrid, “I’ve carved out a little place inside one of the dark oaks.”

“Cool, we’re moving in,” Etho said.

“Excuse me?” Both Joel and Scott snapped, before glancing at each other. 

“Sun’s setting,” Etho said easily. 

“That’s not my blummin’ problem,” Joel huffed. 

“You’d let your boat boy die out here?” Etho pouted and Joel groaned, but seemed to fold easily enough at the words. 

“But why’s Scott have to come?” Joel asked, even as he started to lead them toward his starter base. 

“We’re in a Fe-liance,” Etho said, “You are too.”

“I don’t think cats work in packs,” Scott couldn’t help but comment. 

“Lions do,” Etho said. 

“That’s a pride, not a pack,” Joel replied.

“Joel’s got a lot of that. Pride and ego,” Scott said. 

Etho snorted, but Joel just shot him a glare, illuminated by the flicker of his torch light. With his back turned, he didn’t see the zombie coming toward him.

Luckily, both Etho and Scott had quick reflexes–with Scott grabbing Joel’s arm to wrench him behind his shield and Etho drawing out his sword to slash at the beast. 

Joel recovered fairly quickly, jumping into the fight with relative ease. They were getting surrounded by mobs now. Scott deflected an arrow with his shield and then slashed at a spider rearing up on him. 

“This way!” Joel called, and Scott stabbed the spider one last time, relishing in its death cry. He had no time to grab the string it dropped, instead turning to race after Joel and Etho, weaving through the thick forest of trees. He almost missed it, but there was a dark oak door on one of the trunks that Joel swung open, urging the two inside before closing and locking it behind them. 

It wasn’t a natural tree trunk, Scott realized immediately. It was much more spacious, hollowed out and with ample room for the three of them to move. It was only one room and it still only had grass for flooring, but it kept the monsters out.

“Only one bed?” Etho asked, looking around. 

“I wasn’t exactly expecting company,” Joel grumbled,  pushing past them to the left side wall where he already had a double chest. He dug through it, taking out some raw chicken and more fish. He started loading up his furnace, and Scott summoned his own to speed up the process. Joel said nothing but did dump the fish in Scott’s hands to deal with. 

“I’ve got one,” Etho assured, placing down a bed right beside Joels’. 

“You found more sheep?” Joel blinked, “I was with Martyn and Jimmy briefly when we found a herd and they obliterated them. It almost seemed like they’d gone red.”

There was a smug crinkle around Etho’s eyes, “I actually hid two away. I’ll bring them here in the morning.”

“Brilliant,” Joel grinned. 

“Are we married to living in this dreary place?” Scott asked, “Such a gloomy color scheme.”

“You can head out the door whenever you want,” Joel snapped. 

“And leave you and Etho to pair up again? That’s been done. I have to stick around now to spice it up.”

“Is that a rule I don’t know about?” Etho asked, “Because I’ve repeated buddies every series.”

“Scott just likes being extra,” Joel said. 

Scott gave a little wink, flicking his hair back and swishing his tail for good measure. Joel grimaced.

While the food cooked, Etho and Scott crafted their own chests, each claiming a corner of their room to organize their things. When they finished, the pair joined Joel to eat. Ehto sat on the bed, Joel leaned against his chest and Scott found himself drawn to perching on the lit furnace once again. 

“Has fish always tasted this good?” Etho asked as he ripped into the salmon. 

“The chicken’s divine as well,” Joel agreed. 

“Perhaps it’s a cat thing,” Scott offered, “Did your books give you any clues?”

“Nah,” Etho said, “These games are never that easy.”

“Heh,” Joel grinned, “So you really don’t know anything do you?”

“You’d keep secrets from the Fe-liance?” Etho gasped. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Scott said, “Joel’s not smart enough to know so much so soon.”

Joel squawked, “I’m plenty smart, Scott! And not only that, I’ve got a wife who lives her imperial life as a cat all blumming day every day.”

Scott’s eyes widened. It was true – Lizzie was the Empress of Animalia back on their home server. Despite her best attempts to hide her feline traits, it was fairly obvious she wasn’t fully human. “We need her on our team.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, “Scar snatched her up immediately. Maybe he had the same idea, I don’t know. But she refused to link up with me. At least right now.”

“Why the hell would she want to pair with Scar? He’s an accident prone disaster,” Scott groaned. 

“He did win last season,” Etho reminded them. 

“I guess,” Scott conceded, tapping his chin, “And Lizzie did crash and burn back there too. Died before Jimmy and everything.”

“Hey!” Joel snapped, “It was your fault she died in the first place!” He shoved his finger into Scott’s chest. 

Scott easily slapped it away, “My fault? Who was the one sending her to kill me?”

Joel growled, tail slashing back and forth in agitation. 

“Man this cod sure is good,” Ehto interrupted loudly, “Nothin’ like sleeping on a full stomach.” He leaned back, stretching out on the double bed. 

Scott let himself be distracted, slipping off the furnace in favor of crawling into the beds beside Etho. 

“Oi!” Joel started, “Are we really going to cram three of us into two beds?”

“Afraid to cuddle me, Joel?” Scott teased. 

Joel shot him a look, “You’ve brought nothing to the table. You should sleep on the floor.”

“We’ll get a third bed tomorrow,” Etho waved off, “Come on, it’s warmer like this anyway. We’ve fit more people in our bed in Double Life.” 

Joel reddened a little as he grumbled. 

“Oh?” Scott tilted his head, ears perked for any juicy gossip. 

“Bdubs insisted on having a sleepover at least one night,” Etho laughed, “It was all four of us sandwiched between the furnaces in the Relation Ship.”

“And it was terrible, Etho,” Joel scowled, but still climbed into the bed, shoving Scott with more force than necessary to carve himself a space. “I’m pretty sure Impulse ended up on the floor and I burned my hand on the furnace.”

“Our hand,” Etho corrected with a yawn. 

“Even worse,” Joel agreed. He turned onto his side, facing away from both Scott and Etho. Etho chuckled, nuzzling into his pillow. Scott soon realized he’d found himself in the worst spot, sandwiched between them. Perhaps it would be better for him to be on the floor – not that he’d ever admit that fact to Joel. 

“You know, Joel,” Scott tried instead, unable to suppress his grin, “It would make more sense for you to be in the middle, what with you being shorter–”

Joel kicked his leg back, slamming it into Scott, “I swear to the void, Scott! One more word out of you and you’ll be the first damn death message in the chat.”

Scott laughed, even though the kick had him wincing in pain. In fact, he’d taken a tick of damage from it too. So he conceded, keeping quiet and enjoying the little taste of victory in the rise he’d managed to get. He closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth the bodies surrounding him provided. 

Tomorrow he’d dig down and get his full diamond gear. He’d find Lizzie and interrogate her. From there he’d start formulating a real plan for the season and get back on track. 

He was almost asleep when Etho whispered close to his ear, “Should have warned you earlier, Scott.” 

“Hmm?” Scott murmured sleepily. 

“If you’re sleeping so close to Joel, best to keep your neck covered.”

“ETHO!” Joel shrieked. 

Scott laughed, curling up to dodge the pillow being slammed into Etho’s face. 

It was going to be an interesting season. A wild one at that.

[tvrmoils]

               "     eyebrows  furrowed  and  lips  pursed  in  offense  ,  a  soft  yet  acid  asshole  is  murmured  under  her  breath  .  the  seriousness  of  his  statement  is  something  unknown  to  sabine  ,  but  this  is  how  they  work  —  recalcitrant  ,  rude  toward  each  other  ,  taunting  in  a  way  that’s  hard  to  read  .  hence  ,  she  wipes  the  offense  from  her  face  because  it  is  her  turn .     "  oh  ,  right  ,  because  questioning  is  made  through  the  eyes  ,  i  totally  forgot ,  "     sarcasm  drips  from  the  words  accompanied  by  a  derisive  smirk  that  widens  at  warden’s  admission .     "  of  course  you’re  hangover  ,  your  responsibility  and  commitment  are  truly  outstanding .  "     sabine  hands  her  coat  to  the  employee  standing  right  outside  the  cloakroom  and  seizes  the  place   —   it  is  not  crowded  ,  but  the  amount  of  people  still  makes  her  stomach  churn  .  just  the  thought  of  this  time  being  spent  at  something  more  productive  (  like  researching  )  makes  an  aggravated  huff  fall  from  her  lips .

               the  icy  temperature  of  her  third  drink  was  welcomed  between  her  hands  the  moment  sentinel’s  ceo  made  his  way  to  the  stage  ,  eyebrows  raising  to  her  hairline  at  the  announcement  he  made  at  the  end  of  his  boring  to  death  speech  .  however  ,  as  an  vexed  comment  hung  from  the  tip  of  her  tongue  ,  the  lights  flickered  unexpectedlyfollowed  by  the  vibration  of  her  phone  that  took  the  grimace  on  her  face  away  .  the  notification  iced  her  blood  for  a  fleeting  moment .     "  fucking  hell  ,  amazing ,  "     she  whispered  ,  rolling  her  eyes  ,  containing  the  need  to  pinch  the  bridge  of  her  nose  at  the  inconvenience .

attagirl, two chips wedged off the same voracious block. leave it to them to meld their own opportunities from a work event neither had been particularly excited to be in attendance of. " come to think of it, " looking down to her from the slope of furrowed brows, makes note of how uncharacteristically tall she had been for the occassion. " sometimes i wish i never had. " he doesn't mean it in any capacity of harm but knows it is not a sentiment that would befall deaf ears. for too long had they made enemies of each other. " my eyes, they're sensitive to questioning. " sights diverge momentarily, perhaps to oggle someone else in the distance while he adjusted his glasses. ward clears his throat just then, " and perhaps i'm a little hungover. "

[foxedbrain]

life is too short. embrace doghood while you can

[sirenium]

being read as a guy is great, I guess. I never get misgendered unless the person hears my voice first, in which case I'll get the 'ma'am- I mean sir!' thing. Nothing makes me happier than when I confuse people, when my gender is up in the air... an uncertainty. I find myself feeling true euphoria when someone doesn't know what the fuck I am, rather than just assuming immediately. Because my gender is so much more complicated than just 'man', it's nothing. It's everything. It's a nice cut of red meat on a hook at the butchers'. It's the uncanny. It's tied to my doghood. It's a paradox, constantly shifting yet staying the same. The endlessness of the universe is still too small of a place to contain it.

Whenever somebody shows any sign of confusion, I bask in it. Because those few times are all the acknowledgement I get of the bigger picture when it comes to my gender. I'm not just a 'man' or a 'sir', but all I seem to get is 'he/him' and 'sir' these days. I think to myself, 'isn't this what I wanted? is this not better than being seen as a woman?' and... I suppose so. My body certainly feels more like my body now. However, I find rigid masculinity to be just as suffocating as rigid femininity. I was meant to break these boxes, not adhere to them. But whenever I bother, I feel the accusations of womanhood being placed onto me, and I know that, once I am read as a woman, my manhood is cancelled out.

I am only a woman when I am a man, and I am only both when I am neither. But wider society doesn't understand that, so I force myself to perform manhood and manhood only as the more comfortable option. I'm considering picking up drag as an outlet to explore my womanhood as well, no matter how miniscule that piece is, because I am not taken seriously if I were to wear a skirt like I want to, or makeup as I want to. Because I am a 'man' and 'men don't do that'. It is miserable. Gendered society is miserable.

[zith-ipeth]

Somthing new, mothers and pups (Dog Days 17)

Hey gang

I talked to my mom today, or she more talked to me. I wanna preface this with that I might have the greatest mom alive, super supportive of my queerness, my art, my hobbies, she helped me get surgery and is just genuinely the best

But…

She’s held up about my animality, she knows I wear my leash and ears and collar around, but she said it makes her feel sick and worried and anxious. She told me I can’t wear it around her, which more than anything, after my anger faded, felt out of character.

Im realizing that, if I explained this all, from the ground up, then maybe she’ll get it. And I want her to get it, I want her to know and love all the parts of me, and I wanna practice what I preach and stop hiding from the person who loves me most.

I’m gonna start with explaining it what it isn’t, a baseline, kinda like telling someone you’re “just a girls brain in a boys body” like it’s more complicated then that but it gets the ideas across. I’m gonna explain that I’m not trying to become a dog, that I know I have a human body, that I don’t want to be treated exactly as a dog would, etc.

So here we go, I’m gonna put into play all this theory and practice I’ve been doing, and try to explain my doghood to someone who seems not only not understanding

But opposed

I shall tread light pawed and gently , practice kindness and patience. It’ll be ok, and I think I can make it through to her

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace, love, and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[jolteonkin]

You know. I'm glad I stay out of community discourse at this point slkngslkn so much of it makes me feel. Alienated in my experience. Like. So many creatures out there talk about how them being a therian or just non human in general is this awful experience for them and that they're experience is almost never happy and they subscribe to the idea that to be a therian or to be non human is to be unhappy and miserable all the time ( and as someone who's also trans and not perisex this just reeks of transmed talking points but I'm not the first to point that out) it just makes me feel like I'm just a fraud.

It saddens me how I have such a... loving and happy relationship to my caninehood and I look at a community who is hurting, for understandable reasons, but takes that hurt and attack people for not fitting into the mold they think it should be. I watch as a non spiritual therian who doesn't quite know where their doghood came from nor feels like being a therian is this terrible thing no one would wish upon themselves and I just... ache for others just trying to find some explanation or comfort in themselves.

And with something as PERSONAL and UNIQUE as non humanity it only makes me wish the community was more open to how others identities are personal and how others overlap. And sure I can understand the sentiment that being a therian can be difficult but it's already bled into such a sufferers mindset that if you're happy at all being a therian you must be faking in some way cause "it's miserable". That's just not what it is for me. My experience so deeply personal and hard to describe and not like many others but at the end of the day I'm a therian. Because I see myself as a dog I more comfortable viewing myself as a dog referring to myself as a dog makes me happy! And that's all I, and anyone else, needs to feel or be personally valid in their non-humanity, really.

[greatpain]

➥     STATUS  :  CLOSED  @doghoods ➥     FEATURING  :  AGENTEPSILON +  AGENTBYTE

          it's  not  often  she  visits  the  medical  bay.  as  an  intelligence  agent,  the  worst  injury  she  deals  with  is  a  papercut.     (     call  her  retro  if  you  must,  she  prefers  seeing  things  out  physically.  helps  with  the  headaches  she's  never  gotten.     )     "     hey,  got  anything  for  migraines     ?     "     yejide  is  not  above  faking  an  ailment  for  information.  there's  worse  she's  done  to  sate  curiosity.     "     over-the-counter  stuff  never  works  for  me,  and  natural  remedies  are  failing.     "     not  even  a  half  second  pause  after  her  poor  explanation  before  she  jumps  coyly  into  the  real  reason  she's  ventured  so  far  away  from  intelligence.     "     those  images  that  were  shown...  real  weird  right     ?     is  any  of  that  possible     ?     like,  medically     ?     "

[r0zeclawz]

THE SOLAR CONJUNCTION IS AT HAND

MY ASCENSION TO DOGHOOD IS INEVITABLE

[dogsoop]

it’s almost midnight and i’m sitting here, wide awake after having a really rough day, thinking about my experience of my own doghood.

it’s genuinely so beautiful to compare my past selves to my current self, and see how much i’ve grown. how much i’ve learned as time has passed. how much i will continue to learn and grow from (the truth is that it never stops. you will always have more to learn and more ways to grow…).

i’ve nurtured and fed the dog inside me, and some of the most important people in my life have nurtured and fed me, and i have grown. i will continue to nurture and feed my inner dog, and move through my doghood without fear and without shame. the dog will grow, and so will i, and i will love everything about it — and more importantly, i will love myself.

[mcdregvault]

It's a cool desing ok?

props to @feyfoxen to give me the idea to ascend this wolfo into doghood