#they're both cat coded!!!!!!!!!!

[skitskatdacat63]

Ye olde cat boys....

(I'm working on a bigger piece rn, so I colored this sketch in the meantime :DD)

I realized this is basically a more realized version of a sketch from really early boy king days:

[iamumbra195]

My favourite freckled girlies with autism and pretty hair (that needs to be put up in different hairstyles more often because they look really pretty)

Chibi versions for the soul

[brolcagno]

Doggy<-Bunny->Kitty!

[vivalu]

Need a red notice au with Odysseus, Diomedes, and Penelope

[viivdle]

hey guys it's me again

[bonefall]

Question: what’s your source on the phytoestrogens? Bc the only times I’ve ever heard that claim, they all source back to this one study on sheep in like the 40s, which… well it’s not very well supported

(Although maybe you don’t care about that, which would be fair. These are fictional cats after all not clinical studies)

You're probably coming from Hbomberguy when he was specifically addressing lunkhead chuds, who pass around the claim that phytoestrogens lower human fertility and sex drive. The "soyboy" claim.

Human studies on the effects of phytoestrogens are pretty lacking overall, but what does exist doesn't back up that claim-- because humans don't graze on red clover in west australia like a sheep. What that means is that it doesn't impact human fertility the way a terrified conservative brain stem thinks it does.

(ESPECIALLY not in a plate of soybeans, which has significantly lower levels of phytoestrogen than red clover.)

But what it DOES do is bind to the estrogen receptors in your body (and acts as a really good antioxidant but that's neither here nor there) which can mean it can act AS estrogen... or as an antagonist.

If you want to know more (especially if you have a background in chemistry, this source talks a lot about the structural similarities between estrogen and phytoestrogen and the mechanism of action) then go dive into PHYTOESTROGENS IN FUNCTIONAL FOOD by Fatih Yildiz, which collects together many of the studies that we do have on the matter and omits controversial ones.

(Plus it's an easy read for such a science-heavy publication imo)

Though I have to stress that my HRT guide is, y'know, fake cats! Nothing in nature replaces modern medicine***, but I wanted to make a good resource for WC fans with trans cats who wanted a little bit of scientific accuracy, wanted to cut herbs that cast Liver Failure 1000 on felines, and could reasonably be found in a temperate environment

***= Except medicinal maggots. Medicinal maggots are literally magical. Nothing debrides necrotic tissue like green bottlefly larvae and as far as I'm concerned they're the closest thing to divinity we have on this earth. And medicinal leeches I love you leeches im so sorry that anyone has ever called you a pest you're cherubic angels and she doesnt deserve this </3

[tending-the-hearth]

no bc phee really is literally the perfect partner for tech and he's the perfect partner for her bc they're both complete nerds in their own way who will 100% boost and influence each other's nerdiness and geek out just as much

like tech will absolutely be just as excited over a random ancient artifact that phee finds as she will be over a new algorithm that he discovers, they are meant for each other please

[rookflower]

been revisiting outcast (via the wcwit podcast!) and given my main issues with the series as a whole it's frustrating to me to remember that they actually DID have a whole deal about needing to address the flaws of a status quo and set of traditional values to adapt and change it, but instead of applying this to the nightmare stagnant oppressive theocracy that is the clans it was instead a white saviour narrative about an exponentially more indigenous-coded group who are narratively presented as too incompetent to thrive (or even brainstorm literally any ideas) by themselves without outsider interference overwriting their culture

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

siffrin is actually dog coded in this essay i will-

[lightflame]

Forget "Power of Three and Omen of the Stars should have been one arc". The new hotness is "A Vision of Shadows and The Broken Code should have been one arc".

[icewindandboringhorror]

my personal Media Genres tier ranking and also Neopets Species tiers. put together in the same post just due to being adjacently related because they're on the same website lol

links to the specific tier makers: Media Genres --- Neopets

[bearisweet]

i dont really like to oc tag on random posts but the post i reblogged last night of 'please pet me and my son. we are emotionally troubled.' is 100% emyr and sal

[koumeowkami]

i love kitten 2winmez sm. the ultimate catboys

[xinganhao]

🪐 boy best friend!mingyu.

@tubasebongs → "I WOULD LIKE MINGYU CLINGY/POUTY BOY BEST FRIEND WHO LIKES YOU AND HE TRIES TO HIDE IT BUT FAILS AND STILL TOO PAINFULLY OBVIOUSLY 🙏🏻🙏🏻"

⌗ ┆threw in another trope because mingyu is childhood best friend coded (⋟﹏⋞) lost the ask in my inbox (i'm so sorry!!!) but i hope this still hits the mark :'-)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: boy best friend!mingyu, childhood friend!mingyu, fluff fluff fluff!!!, cussing, pining/idiot in love/etc., confession -ish, headcanons under the cut.

🪐 headcanons .ᐟ

because of course kim mingyu is the boy next door. your mothers are friends and that's how you meet him, how you essentially grow up with him, even. he's a lively kid— loud and sociable, fond of roughhousing and buying candy at the corner store.

mingyu is the type to have defended you on the playground, his little hands balled in to fists as he plants them at his hips. at the age of six, he's not really capable of inciting fear, but he'll damn well try. as early as then, he's already referring to you as 'my best friend.' "yah, that's my best friend!" "don't make my best friend cry!" "what did you say about my best friend?!"

mingyu's overbearingness wanes a bit as you grow up, as you begin to insist that you can fight your own battles. the title is the one thing that doesn't change. it doesn't matter if you go on to not be classmates anymore, if you run different circles. you are mingyu's best friend and he's yours.

it's a fact that mingyu makes abundantly clear to everyone he meets. hell, even strangers aren't spared by the casual ways in which he manages to bring you up. "excuse me, but your hat is really nice and i think my best friend would like it. may i know where you bought it?" "oh, my best friend loves that artist too!" "you think my shoes are nice? thank you, my best friend got it for me."

mingyu is the picture perfect cliché of the best friend. he lives to annoy you, to rile you up and test your patience, but he also knows you like the back of his hand. it's something that you reciprocate— the cat and dog fights belied only by the deep concern and consideration that you both undeniably have for each other.

if he's honest, mingyu isn't all too sure when things shifted. (the answer: somewhere around adolescence, on an unassuming weekend spent at an arcade.) he just found that he kept wanting a little more. wanted to annoy you a little more so you would keep looking his way. wanted to talk to you a little more so you would think of him, too. mingyu isn't sure when his feelings started, but he knows they're not about to end any time soon.

it drives mingyu absolutely insane, initially, because he's seen how these things go! he's sat through all your favorite romcoms, has idly watched his mother's weekly dramas. falling in love with your best friend only ends well in fiction. in real life, in his life? he's not so sure.

mingyu isn't about to start avoiding you, though. isn't going to run from his feelings like a bunch of other people do. you always say he's dramatic when he says so, but he's at least half-serious when he says he can't live without you. and so he gives himself a stern talking to, a set of rules to follow— he won't tell you. he won't put you in that position, where you have to choose. he'll just go about things as he always does.

and, most importantly: mingyu refuses to look at your friendship as a consolation prize. it is not a silver medal, not a second-best to a potential romantic relationship. it is the best thing, being your best friend, and he's not about to put that on the line.

one thing mingyu fails to take in to account: just how painfully obvious he is. he doesn't have to confess to you. it bleeds in to everything he says and does. everyone knows, from his family to his friends to your family. they're all not so sure, either, when the exactly mingyu went from just acting friendly to being at your every whim without you even asking, but it's as clear as day.

mingyu thinks he's slick. on the rare occasions he's called out, he'll scoff and deny. "me? in love with my best friend? that's crazy." deny, deny, deny. that's mingyu's game for years and years, until people just give up on asking and wait for one or the other: for him to crack or for you to notice.

being best friends with a mingyu who's hopelessly in love with you is a carousel of moments: a dozen pouty selfies a week, incessant texts blowing up your phone, facetime calls where he's drunk and whining to be picked up. and more: the smell of his cologne on almost all of your things, the passport photo of you that he keeps behind his clear phone case, a specific smile that he reserves for when you're not looking.

really, it's just like mingyu for his eventual confession to be unceremonious, unprompted. all it takes is for you to make one offhand joke (time for you to confess to me, kim mingyu) and for mingyu to take that just a little too seriously (holy shit, have i been that obvious).

mingyu thought he'd take this 'secret' to the grave, honestly. or maybe he'd bring it up when you're both old and gray, and you can hit him over the head with a cane or something. but now it's out in the open, now it's something he can't take back— and, well, there's only one last thing for him to do: hope for the goddamn best.

extras 📱 texts from mingyu ➤ friends.

[puppetmaster13u]

Vibrating. I can be bribed yes.

So thinking about this more, Gotham definitely has some... unique new-ish traditions. Slash things that outsiders are very ??? about. Practically the entire city closes if it's raining, with everyone working from home. Well, most are working from home, or indoors, because if they're out in the rain long enough they lose their legs. And well, people already think Gotham is inhuman enough without it being confirmed as such.

It's also, canonically a superstitious place. What with the Court and the cults and everything else so. They're really playing it up during tourist season (why is there a tourist season, they're serious. Just. Why.)

But their culture definitely has shifted after the whole... fish curse. Already started discussing it before, but a lot of people start keeping their hair longer, or at least bits long enough to put things like pearls or shells in them. It's almost like a flower language, just more sea... and poisonous... focused. Different pearls have different meanings, not just colors but size as well. Same with shells. Which was at first a more upper society thing, but it spread to the rest of Gotham. You can tell if someone is a native depending on the material- they may or may not scam outside people with fake pearls.

Now the merfolk change in general. As said before in previous reblogs, some people do end up having children in mer' form. Which means that hospitals do have specialty areas for people with mer medical issues. Including those that might have birth issues. Hospitals and Dr offices are strange to a lot of outsiders. I mean, no one knows what to make of giant tanks in some rooms.

(Also apologies if I'm jumping around I'm dealing with a fever while writing this lol)

Now something to note, is that unlike several merfolk in mythology, in mer forms Gothamites don't have a scaless upper half. It doesn't suddenly shift to human skin, that would ruin their adaptations to camouflaging through the murky waters. Which also helps with no one recognizing say, a friend or teammate when they see them. Not that Aquaman has seen or knows Batman's face.

Poor Clark though. He was... not expecting this when he rushed to where he heard Bruce's heartbeat pop back up after going all weird and... off. Because the change isn't painful, but it definitely looks and sounds so. Bones shifting alongside organs, skin splitting open into gills, jaws unhinging... I'm sure you can see why it'd be horrifying for an outsider to hear. Or see.

@f4nd0m-fun pspspsps look someone drew art <3<3

Mermay Special Prompt 3

“Are you kidding? No one goes to Gotham, that place is like,” Aquaman made a motion with his hand, a not-quite grimace on his face. “Like things should not be living in the water, like it should be impossible, and things should be dead, but they aren’t and it’s like, like the equivalent of an undead apocalypse over there!” 

Bruce rolled his eyes behind his cowl, taking a sip of his coffee as the others continued drinking. Socialize, they said, it’ll be fine they said. Well excuse him, but the waters weren’t that bad. Sure there were always dumped bodies, and chemicals from the rogue attacks, but it was far worse at one point.

One thing he’ll always be relieved for is how the… curse (thank you broken statuette back in the beginning of his vigilante career that fused with the other many curses of Gotham) made the people of Gotham actually care about the waters around them. 

Though also, he couldn’t help but thank anything that might be listening for the fact that the curse only interacted with Gotham waters, because losing legs with any risk of a drop of water would be downright annoying. 

“No dude, you don’t understand, no one goes there for a reason! That shit is horrific- someone saw a big thing with bits of rebar stabbed straight through it and still chased after a big alligator-thing!” Oh. Oh that had been him. Oops. Hopefully his kids didn’t find out about this, but they were probably already on the cameras. Dammnit. 

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 — titjob

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader

warnings: porn with feelings. size of reader's breasts are not described.

Giving your boyfriend's hair a trim was not in your job description. In hindsight, dating him was also not in the job description, but same as your improvised hairstylist duties, it happened anyway.

The trailer that served as his dressing room was packed with different options of outfits, laying scattered around the few pieces of furniture, his own personal belongings mixed with them. It was a mess, and you were sitting in the middle of it, straddling Eddie on the couch.

You'd been outside, supervising the venue, when Eddie came — sauntering around with no shirt under his leather jacket — and asked, specifically, for you to trim his bangs. "They're falling all over my eyes, sweetheart," he complained, flashing you those chocolate eyes, doubling in size with his dramatics, "how am I supposed to play like that?"

At first, you thought he just wanted an excuse to get you alone. "Trim his bangs" could be all but a code for "let me bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck you until we're both satisfied". It wouldn't be the first time that happened, and it wouldn't be the last.

When you got there, he was actually telling the truth. You found it strange, given that Eddie himself was the only one to ever style his own hair, not trusting anyone else to do it. You figured he just needed some comfort, to steer away the anxiety that still came with performing for large crowds, and who were you to deny him that?

That was how you found yourself delicately cutting the ends of his hair, and making sure his bangs stayed just above his eyebrows, while Eddie couldn't keep his hands still. It distracted you, the way his rough hands ran over your thighs, exposed by how your skirt rode up, over your hips, drumming his fingers on them, squeezing your waist and running them down again.

He was finally relaxed when you finished. "There," you smoothed his hair with your fingers, giving them a light brush, before giving his forehead a quick kiss, "all done, baby."

As you disposed of the hand towel that sat between your bodies, careful to not let the hair in it fall, and set it on the side table, Eddie hugged your body tight, crushing you to him. You giggled and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scattered kisses all over your exposed cleavage.

"Thank you, angel." He mumbled into your skin. You told him it was no problem, but it felt like he wasn't even listening, too busy with the feeling of your soft skin on his face, nuzzling you like a cat. You let him have it, knowing how much he needs it. It's an unspoken language between you — more often than not, Eddie needed his hands to speak for him, and you were more than happy to listen.

With his head buried in your chest, Eddie was speaking, but it turned incoherent with how muffled it was. "What is it?"

He sighed, lifting his head a little, but still not looking up. "Wanna fuck'em."

For a moment, you fluster, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. It was silly, that wasn't the most scandalous thing Eddie had proposed to you, but it felt intimate.

"You wanna fuck my tits?"

"Please?" He looked almost pathetic, pouting his pink lips at you, his big eyes begging. You didn't know why that was necessary — you couldn't say no to Eddie, you weren't about to start then.

"Yeah, sure." You lift his bangs from his forehead, pulling his hair a little. He followed your movement with his head, closing his eyes at the feeling. "Go ahead, sweet boy."

You share a few, deep kisses, with Eddie's arms still around you. He was already half hard in his jeans under you, the bulge touching the cotton of your panties. As he kissed you, Eddie quickly removed your top and your bra, discarding them somewhere on the floor.

Suddenly, you were flipped over, your back hitting the cushion. Your boyfriend took his time, kissing up and down your chest, lavishing your nipples with his tongue until they hardened under his touch, using his fingers to pull and pinch them, delighting on the sweet noises that left your mouth.

When he was happy with how worked up he got you, he stood up briefly to remove his pants and underwear, having already shed his jacket earlier. You took a moment to admire him — the silver piercing on his left nipple, his pale torso, his dark tattoos, the smattering of hair that ran down his chest and led into his happy trail, his thick cock heavy against his navel. It made your mouth water, but you needed to stick with what you'd promised.

You watched as he stroked himself, and learned down again, pecking your lips. His hand hadn't left his cock, the other supporting his body above you, as he looked into your eyes and asked "Are you ready?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

A smirk was his only answer. Without much preamble, he licked a fat strip right in the valley of your breasts, and spit, letting his saliva run down the crest. Your breathing was heavy, chest heaving with anticipation, pussy fluttering between your legs, forming a sticky puddle on the fabric of your panties.

He straddled your hips, and your hands went straight to your tits, holding them for him as he slid his cock between them, setting a slow pace at first. Above you, Eddie bit his lips, eyes blown with desire, "That's it, good girl. Play with them for me."

You did as he said, caressing and pulling on your nipples as you kept them in place, and he fucked them with abandon now, hips pistoning in place, moaning his praises to you. "Look at you, so fucking pretty. The prettiest fucking girl and she's all mine. Mine to play with, aren't you? Yeah, you are. My little plaything."

You moved your hips too, desperate for some friction, but to no relief. Instead, you surged forward, pulling yourself up on your elbows, wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock, sucking on the wetness that leaked from it. Eddie almost howled, the muscles on his stomach tensing and clenching as he got closer to his climax.

"M'gonna cum, angel. Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, give you a pretty necklace. You want that, don't you? Want my cum all over you."

Releasing him from your mouth, you looked up at him, searching for his wild eyes. "I want it, baby. Give it all to me. Give me your cum."

It didn't take long until he did, spilling his seed all over your chest and neck. He stopped himself from bending on the waist with the force of it, knuckles white from holding himself with a hand on the back of the couch. You stared in awe, his brown curls a golden halo around his head, his skin flushed red, glowing with sweat.

"Fuck. That was…" He heaved. "Goddamnit, baby."

"Happy now?" You teased.

"Pleased as fucking punch."

Eddie unmounted you for a second, only to lean down again, and give you a proper kiss on the lips, putting all of his appreciation into the way he sucked your tongue into his mouth. He stood up briefly to find some tissues, cleaning you with them, and promptly settling himself on top of you again, his wandering hands finding your body again.

You were writhing under him, finally getting some relief as he let you grind on his thigh, when three harsh knocks were delivered to the trailer's door.

"Eddie, where the fuck are you?" Your boss's voice, Corroded Coffin's tour manager and glorified babysitter, cut through the haze you were in, and you let out a frustrated sigh, throwing your head back as Eddie groaned.

"I can hear you in there, man."

"I'll be right there, boss." Eddie yelled back. You could almost cry, feeling your neglected pussy wet and throbbing, needy for your boyfriend's touch.

"Go, Eddie. It's okay." You whispered, trying not be noticed.

It was his turn to sigh, kissing your forehead once again, before standing up, looking for his clothes. "I'd stay if I didn't run the risk of getting dragged out of here."

"Just promise me you'll make up for it?" You couldn't help the pitiful whine in your voice.

He smirked, eyes darkening as he slid his shirt over his head. "You're gonna regret asking for that when I'm done with you."