#twiggi bunny

[lilystargazerwhite]

Server mascots discover what’s happening back home

[art-tea-chill]

Shred Force OC because I love the pilot and I wish it got greenlit. I'm also going to ramble about some random lore ideas I have.

So her name is Rosia Twiggy, she's a violin alien robot akin to Nordic Bunny and their both dating (Villainous Rivals to Lovers)

So, some lore ideas I had for Shred Force was that "Were their other music gods as well?" So for Rosia, I'd say she was associated with the Orchestra Gods (essentially the Rock Gods before the Rock Gods) but turned on them later on when they decided to give up their mantle as the main music gods. Since Rosia is also Nordic's counterpart, she also has lobster minions.

For Rosia's personality, she's essentially a evil version of Classified from Penguins of Madagascar (2014). She's a arrogant smug villain who wants to conquer Earth for her own personal reasons. She's a calm and collected conquer who is sophisticated as possible, but does have a short fuse when properly provoked.

Trivia time

Despite her ego and what she wants to believe, she can be a big goofball like Nordic sometimes. (Quite literally doesn't know the difference between crabs and lobsters, can't pronounce vintage, can be just as hammy as him, and tends to give overly dramatic and dumb speeches about how the Orchestra Gods were the best.)

Is British

She can extend her arms to a certain degree.

Get extremely pissed off if someone calls her Twiggy even though it's her last name

Is very fond of insulting others she thinks are beneath her

Likes classical music and hates punk music

Nordic Bunny x Rosia Twiggy ship names are these: Norsia, RockViolin, and ClassicalRock

That's all, I wish this pilot got greenlit, it looked and was amazing

[jpgcore]

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

[hibiscusbabyboy]

(Dividers by @cafekitsune )

[jackinique-art]

I’ve had pretty bad burnout two weeks into funguary, so I drew my comfort character and a good self-reminder. Twiggies will punch a bitch just to remind her to drink water.

[callmemana]

Just a lil Nico fic…

Plus some Joseph Woll… 🤭

I might be working on a (couple of) hockey fic(s)… 🤭

As the Metallica song faded out and the next song began, there was a knock on the glass on my opposite side. At first I didn’t recognize the man, so I ignored him.

He knocked again, harder and more urgently, gaining my attention. The brunett leaned against the sill, casually and slightly irritated.

I rolled my eyes as I lowered my music and rolled down the window on Mimi’s side just enough for my voice to be heard.

The brunett ran his hand through his shaggy hair frustratedly, the action making his dark wet curls fall in his face.

“Sorry, my parents told me not to talk to strangers.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not a stranger. Are you Brock’s friend, the one who’s supposed to pick us up today?”

“I might be, but I’m not telling someone I’ve never met before if I am or not.”

“Boes said that a woman in a burnt orange Honda would be here for us. I’m gonna assume that’s you?”

“Like I said, I’m not telling a stranger if I know Brock or not.”

I looked him up and down, there was no denying that he was far from being ‘just some rando off the side of the street.’

He had the build of a hockey player and had a ‘Canuck’s’ duffle bag similar to Brock’s.

“What if I introduced myself? Then I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“True, but I still wouldn’t know you enough to tell you anything.”

He groaned, “Dammit woman, please just let me in your car, it’s chilly out here.”

“Sorry, Captain, can’t do that. Plus I don’t have any candy to offer you to get inside my car.”

“It’s not like you're kidnapping me, I’m willingly getting into your car.”

“See, that’s how it starts, people willingly getting into strangers' cars. Next thing you know there’s an alert out for you and I’m hunted down by the police.”

“Did you call me ‘captain’? So you do know who I am!”

“I call everyone captain, don’t feel special.” I rolled my eyes with a smirk.

Before he could call my bullshit, I looked him straight in the eyes and waved as I rolled up the window cutting his response off.

The man knocked on the glass a couple times, spewing curses as his ears started to flush pink in frustration or the weather, could be both.

I took that as my cue to roll the window down again, the same length as before.

“Yes, captain?” I gave a half-assed two finger salute with a shit-eating grin.

“I think I’ve figured out your little game, you do know who I am but are playing the dumb blonde card.”

Quinn leans into the door frame, a smirk on his lips and a sparkle of mischief in his hazel eyes.

Lemme know what y’all think! 🥰

[es0tericdoll]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝒜𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

♡ My name is Maria Fe but I don’t mind nicknames!

♡ My birthday is in 18/01

♡ My hobbies are : Ballet ( I quit but started again ) , reading , writing , fashion , music , movies , smoking , hating men , flirting with older men , gaslighting, dissociate , shopping and buying stuff I can’t afford, avoiding my problems and self sabotage.

♡ I love the color pink and brown , pointe shoes , 60s icons , older men (Tom Selleck pls notice me ) , Coke Zero , Vogue , Slavic dolls supermodels , plushies , deers/lambs/bunnies, Blythe dolls , d&g 2010 spring collection , glitter ,emergency intercom ,jean Paul gaultier , Sylvanian families

♡ My icons are sky Ferreira , sparklejumpropequeen , Natalia osipova , Lily-Rose Depp , Alana Champion ,Natalia Vodianova , Jane Birkin ,Natalie Portman , Sofia Coppola , Priscila Presley , Audrey Hepburn , Angelina Jolie , Brittany Murphy , Ruslana Korshunova ,Sharon Tate, Twiggy

♡ My favorite shows/movies are : girl , interrupted , pall alto , Prozac nation , Gia , mysterious skin ,that 70s show , skins uk , I believe in unicorns ,call me by your name , baby , black swam , up town girls , Jenifer’s body , Donnie darko , Scott pilgrim , silence of the lambs , sharing the secret , white oleander ,drop dead gorgeous,fleabag , ladybird , sex and the city , any movie by ( Pedro Almodovar or David flincher) , the bling ring

♡ My music taste : Jeff Buckley , Lana Del Rey , Fiona 🍎 , mazzy star , Imogean Heap , Blood Orange , Frank Ocean , Hole , Radiohead ,Tchaikovsky , Lorde , Ethel Cain ,Slowdive , Deftones , Gustavo Cerati , foo fighters , crystal castles , fka twigs , grimes ,

♡ Writers : Sylvia Plath , Fiódor Dostoyevski, Albert Camus , Banana Yoshimoto , Alejandra Pizarnik ,Jane Austen , Sally Rooney

♡ Love mutuals and new friends !! (Feel free to talk )

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Six on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

Simon stands behind the bar like some sort of massive, brooding Aeacus. As if they were always bound to meet here, and John was always bound to spill his secrets, and wasn't John such a stupid little twat for not having ever realized that before? It speaks volumes that not even Simon's shit eating grin puts a damper on John's mood.

A/N: texts are displayed as screen caps, but alt text is available. Warnings for John being a weirdo about Bunny menstruating, and for disparaging comments about Bunny's weight (not from John, obv)

Simon stands behind the bar like some sort of massive, brooding Aeacus. As if they were always bound to meet here, and John was always bound to spill his secrets, and wasn't John such a stupid little twat for not having ever realized that before?

It speaks volumes that not even Simon's shit eating grin puts a damper on John's mood.

"You're relieved, Riley."

"I'll say. Didn't even need to have a talk with 'er about curfews."

"Well, I know how you worry. It went well, by the way."

"Didn't ask. How'd you manage not to muck it up?"

"I got this excellent relationship coach that gave me some great ideas."

"You keep adding to my workload and I'm unionizing."

"Yeah?" John laughs, "You and who?"

"That new barkeep seems easily impressionable."

"Mm. That what got your stamp of approval?"

Oh, it's always a good day when John can pry a real reaction from his head brewer. Simon doesn't squint, but there's a tightening around his eyes that suggest he would do, if he suffered such banal things as 'automatic response disinhibition.'

"Am I gonna need to sit you down with the harassment video again, Riley?"

"Don't technically work at the bar, cap. One Four One pays my bills." He's aiming for a sarcastic 'so what if I am,' lands slightly off center.

"Good point. You been putting a lot of thought into it?"

The pause is a half a beat too long. "Too busy thinkin' about having to cover my boss's shifts while 'e flits about with some young bird like 'e's in uni again."

"Aye. Gonna need you to do it again on Sunday, too."

"Sunday?" Simon barks. "You're training on Sunday."

"No, you're training on Sunday. By the time I get here he'll probably be good to go."

Now he does squint. "And if I got plans?"

"You'd've mentioned them first. Thanks, Si. I owe you one."

"You owe me the business at this point."

"Already in my will and testament."

"Mm. Keep trying your luck and I'll take what's owed sooner'n later."

***

Simon stays on to cook, a blessing considering it ends up being a decent Friday turnout. The early spring seems to be pulling in more than just the locals. John resolutely does not put on the hockey match he knows his rabbit's interested in because he doesn't want to listen to Simon's opinion on that, but he does watch the ticker tape at the bottom of the basketball commentary to monitor the score when he can. He's not sure why; he can't exactly participate in any informed conversation on the subject, but it seems like it'll be a good anecdote to know when they're skating.

Fuck, skating. He'd been a few times in his life and it had all been perfectly fine, but he usually sleeps right through the season so it's not something he's practiced in a while. He doesn't want to make an ass of himself, even if the rabbit had the same concerns. It's embarrassing enough being as twiggy as he is currently, he couldn't stand to be uncoordinated or in any way less physical in her eyes. He remembers how raptly she'd watched that match, the ways her eyes had tracked the men on screen. He hadn't found it in any way threatening at the time, but he doesn't want to be compared negatively to them. The fact that they're professional doesn't matter, of course, at least not to the beast in his chest.

John shoots her a sympathetic text when the team she'd been following loses (again. He's going to have to figure out how playoffs work here, the basketball announcers are even talking about multiple games) but he doesn't get a response until quite late, when he's on the roof enjoying a cigar after closing.

Christ, another game?

John damn near preens

He'd rather buy her those panels but he doesn't think she'd let him. More than that he'd rather drive her car into Whitefish Lake, but he supposes she'd be a little cross about that, too.

John nearly bites through his cigar. It's an honest struggle to force his bear back under his skin, the animal not fully understanding that such a challenge could be issued through miles of suburban landscape and a thirty foot drop off a roof. Much as he wants her here (on her knees between his thighs, mouth hot and wet through the fabric of his trousers as he shoves a boot under her cunt, preferably), it's probably a good thing she isn't because he doesn't want her on all fours their first time, his jaws clamped on the nape of her neck as he leans his full weight on her, trapping her big soft body between the mass of himself and the cold hard ground, uncaring if the whole city heard her whining, or screaming, or begging, or moaning. He wants to see her face as he fucks her, learn what she likes or doesn't. He wants to eat her out as if she's the only food he'll need for winter - until she's crying about how she has nothing left to give and then he wants to lick her tears up, too.

But right now the only thing he wants from her is her round arse presented in apology, the feel of her flesh between his teeth.

It's a struggle to be witty when your body is trying to prime you for both a fight and a fuck at the same time and your circulatory system feels like the Magic Roundabout, so John doesn't bother.

And that's -. Fuckin' -.

Just like that, she's got him back to heel. More pup than predator, eager to beg for treats from her hands. A brat he can handle; even his bear seems greedy at the prospect. If her challenges aren't in earnest - if she's simply trying to get a rise out of him because she wants him to fuck her hard, he's more than happy to allow it. Happy to let his bear take over and give her what she wants.

Fuck, he's hard. A green cub, can't even distinguish rational thought and animalistic impulses. No, she's not asking for an actual bear in human skin to take her to task, Christ. He needs circulation back to his brain STAT. And to think this all started with a Viagra joke.

***

Saturday is a lesson in patience. He feels unmoored, confused. A bit like standing in a cold stream waiting for the salmon run to leap into his mouth, weeks before they're due to arrive. There is so much to do. His rut looms in the distance like a sundog: a beautiful, bad omen. He should be preparing. Securing his mate, improving his den, padding his own body, ensuring she's equipped to carry both herself and his cubs through the winter.

Instead he's lying to QuickBooks about where his head brewer worked this week and hosing off beer mats, listening to some old coot veer dangerously close to homophobic remarks about the lesbian couple who own the boot shop across the way. It sets John's teeth on edge, makes him snappy. He spills the man's third beer across his lap as he hands it off and gets even more irritated when it only garners benevolent absolution. He wants a fight. Wants a fuck even more. Is turning in circles knowing he won't get either any time soon. Simon doesn't stop by, doesn't offer himself as a verbal, pricker-covered punching bag. The rabbit never texts. John would give his left eye to eat a porcupine right now, feel the satisfaction of the kill and the anger of his prey, both.

He closes shop early, finds his way to the edge of town. He hardly even bothers to hide his clothes in a sparse, budding green thicket before he's on all fours, lumbering off into the woods. Her scent has been growing stronger for him. In his human form, he can usually smell her from across town but like this, snout high in the air as he sifts through the noxious scent of the other humans in town, he can track her clear up to Lake McDonald. It's soothing, usually: the sweetness of the simple foods she eats, the saltiness of her skin. Her cunt. But it's sour tonight, distressed and distressing. He sets off in a blind panic.

He's nearing the Flathead when it hits him properly and he slows, relief and understanding washing over him. Poor rabbit, she's nearing her monthlies. He can smell it now, the stink of her discomfort and the impending blood. No wonder he was so off kilter all day. It speaks to the quality of their bond that he can already sense these things. Means when his rut comes around, she'll likely be impacted too, which sets his mouth watering. Although -.

If their bond was really that strong, she wouldn't be menstruating. Waste of bloody resources. A stupid fucking design flaw he could cure her of.

With a proper bond or a cub, whichever came first.

She's not parked in a proper camp tonight, just tucked away on a four wheel path safe from the main road. He considers not disturbing her for all of thirty seconds before he starts chuffing and sniffing like a hog around her wheel wells. He hears her shuffling about and then her little curtain moves and she beams at him.

"That you, big guy?"

John lowers at her and she pulls her screen down properly to get a better look. He doesn't raise himself half onto her roof this time, just remains on all fours and lifts his head enough to peer back at her.

"You know, we have to stop meeting like this. People will talk." For once, John doesn't think he'd mind. As if to test that theory, she shuffles around a bit and John sees her pull her phone out of the center console to power it up. She was supposed to get battery back ups today. Part of the reason he was so irritable; he'd wanted to speak with her. But if even he was feeling so completely out of it, he can't imagine she cared very much about a trip to the store herself. He waits patiently for her phone to power up. She keeps an eye on him, but he just continues to puff foggy breaths onto her window, unbothered. Eventually she tells him to say cheese and he makes a soft noise at her that makes her grin.

"I never knew bears could moo," she teases and John sneezes at her in annoyance which only makes her giggle. Christ, an honest giggle. She's so fucking cute he could squeeze her til she popped.

"I think that's my favorite noise you make. Though the huffs are pretty cute too." So John does it again, just to show off. "Yeah, that one! Gonna have to do some studying, figure out what those all mean. Just suppose I'm lucky you haven't roared at me yet."

Don't worry bunny, he'd never.

She putz around on her phone and John wonders how many people she's sending the picture to. He's being careless, he knows, but it's worth it to see her - to ensure she's thinking of him, even if she doesn't know it. She holds her stomach absently as she types and after a few moments her face scrunches and she winces, curling in on herself a bit more. When it passes, she eyes him with mock suspicion. "That why you're here, big guy? The bears can smell the menstruation!" That last bit is said in an affected voice, probably a reference to something he's too British to understand. "Thought that was a myth?"

It is, clever rabbit. For all but you.

She hasn't actually started yet, he doesn't think. Poor lamb will likely start right as they're due to meet at the rink. He wonders if she'll cancel. He's already making contingency plans, wondering if she'll let him take care of her or if she'll make excuses and leave him to figure out how to both pretend he doesn't know what's really going on and also make it clear she's allowed to ask him for help with it.

"Well, periods are a curse enough as it is. It's not fair that god sends his cuddliest looking creatures out to kill us, too. You look like an industrial size heating pad and the world's biggest spoon all rolled up in the fuzziest weighted blanket imaginable. You're a frickin' cure all come to kill me. Tease!"

Oh, he's the luckiest man to ever walk the earth. She's so perfect, already warmed up to his bear, no coaxing required. Soon, honey. You can cuddle up to his beast anytime you want. He can't help the constant chuffing noises her spiel has earned; or the way he presses against her car as if he can transfer some of his heat through the metal. He'd been struggling to keep his impulses in check all day, but in this form it's even harder. He's split between the elation of her accepting this form and the frustration that she won't let him help her. He wants to turn back right here, let her see, ferret her out of her den and let her use his body to cure her ails in whatever way she sees fit.

"You're so cute though, I guess I can forgive you," she continues, and it's a struggle to keep his grunting noises in check enough that he can still hear her. "You know, I told my friend about you. He said the bears around here can be pretty well socialized because it's such a high traffic area. You got other girls you're seeing on the side?"

Never, bunny, he snorts, never again.

"I promise I won't be offended. We can keep it casual." She puts on an overly breezy air, being silly. "I mean like, cause they're not like feeding or petting you either, right? Like, you're not… getting that from any girl at all, right?" A beat. John tries to play along by looking as contrite as a bear possibly can. "You whore!" she gasps, "Who is she?"

His response is to stand and lean against her car, ducking his head to nod at her.

"Mmm, nice recover. You know if you really wanted to make it up to me, you'd stop scraping my paint." Admonished, Price lowers himself back to the ground. The rabbit eyes him suspiciously. "I swear, sometimes it feels like you can understand me. Are you a circus escapee? Do you know any tricks?" She pauses, as if waiting. "Can you speak?"

Fuck it, John gives her a halfhearted, rumbling roar.

She laughs, delighted. "How about lay down? You know that one?"

And that sounds like a great idea so he does, makes himself comfortable with his belly on the muddy trail.

"What about roll over?" She asks, voice soft with apprehension; unfortunately, twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern. John ignores her command in favor of chewing at the pads of his forepaw and after a moment, the rabbit breathes out a heavy, chuckling sigh.

"Might be going a bit batty, spending all my time alone," she mutters. Louder, she tells him, "I think you've got the right idea about getting comfy, though. I'm turning in. You staying there? You'd make some guard dog."

John just rolls his eyes to her and huffs.

"Right. Well, goodnight. Please be gone when I wake up so I can pee without fear." He snorts at her and she chuckles in response, shifting her weight around the car enough to make it rock a bit. She doesn't put her privacy screen back up, he notes with some frustration. He'll have to stay until the early hours just to be sure she's safe, but he doesn't mind. He's been tempted to spend every night exactly like this since he first spotted her rubbing herself raw in the early spring dawn. He's just happy to know she doesn't seem too freaked out by his presence.

***

Sunrise finds him fishing his damp clothes out of the bush he'd hastily tucked them into the night previous. They make for an unpleasant trip back, but he's warmed by a missed text from his bunny: a picture of himself captioned 'Think I made a new friend'.

She'd been asleep when he'd left her but even still, John cannot help replying right then and there.

***

John is leaning against his passenger door when he spots her big Wrangler pulling in and he makes his way to her with enough time to offer a hand as she slides out of the car. He maybe stands a bit too close, appreciating the way her thick, soft thighs rub briefly against his own as he helps guide her gracefully to the ground.

She's got on leggings and tall socks with converse and a thin henley under a worn denim jacket. She's so cute he wants to throw her in the back of her Jeep right then and give the suspension a run for its money. Compounding his dilemma is the strong scent of her monthlies evident through the thin material of her trousers. It's weak enough he doubts anyone else will notice, but the scent of the iron rich blood has his teeth itching.

Plus it's upsetting to be slapped in the face with such strong evidence that their bond isn't fully formed.

Despite his turmoil, John smiles at her warmly and kisses her on the cheek in greeting, making her blush.

"Good to see that bear didn't make off with you. Not sure I could win that particular fight."

She laughs as they make their way inside, "I don't know, he seems more of a lover than a fighter. You could probably win him over with some berries or something."

"So then I'd have to share both you and my food? I gotta run this bloke out of town." John can feel the rabbit eyeing him suspiciously, weighing the quality of his words. He, of course, doesn't flinch; simply holds the door open and guides her through with a palm on her lower back.

He's hoping she'll tell him he doesn't need to worry about sharing her, but it seems that's a bit much to expect from a casual second date. She motions to the door he's held for her instead. "See? And here you were worried about not being a gentleman."

John's laugh is a mean, hot puff of breath. "There's still time," he warns, standing too close.

He helps her into her cute little skates, lets her use his body to keep herself upright as they stand in the carpeted hallway waiting on the zamboni to finish up. He's maybe a little swept up in the domesticity of it, surrounded as they are by other couples and families with small kids. 'Stanley Cup hopefuls,' the rabbit calls them, and John nearly goes weak in the knees imagining her bringing his cubs back here one day, decked out in her team's colors. He stands too close but she doesn't seem to mind; and when he kisses her on the crown of her head and keeps his lips there, she just leans a little more into him and he sighs in contentment. And when the doors finally open, he is treated to the absolute delight of watching his rabbit trying to figure out how to keep her feet under herself, laughing all the while.

The crowd is a mix of old hats just trying to stay limber; pesky children who rocket by, trying hard as they can to get under feet and trip people up; and landlubbin' newbies like them. It's good, sweet. Gives John an excuse to keep his hands on his rabbit, and seems to take her mind off her cramps, if the way her sweat turns from acrid with stress to good clean salt is anything to go by. It would be perfect, John decides, if not for a pair of twenty-something boys that linger, skating big ambling circles around John and his girl. They're casual, keep their eyes mostly to themselves, but John is already on edge and something about their presence makes him want to stand his ground.

Of course, he can't quite do that when the whole point of free skate appears to be 'skate in a circle'.

"Might've had it wrong, bunny," John grins as he gets his hand around her thick waist for the dozenth time, catching her just as her right foot goes slipping out in a direction she didn't authorize. "Think you're more of a Bambi than a thumper."

"With these thighs?" she jokes, slapping her quad for effect.

John doesn't bother to hide the hunger that elicits in him. He's about to give her a tiny little smack of his own when -,

"Nice catch, man. Way to take one for the team."

"Yeah, they'll have to bring the zamboni back out if she goes down."

John is distantly aware of his rabbit going stiff and quiet, her gaze drifting somewhere down by her feet. He keeps hold of her arm but it's more an instinctual comfort than a conscious decision, as all his higher brain function is dedicated to not growing fangs between which to trap these boys.

"They'll have to bring it back out if I use your teeth like an auger, too." John's voice is low. Possibly too low to be strictly human. It gets the point across anyway. The twiggy twats who have been circling like sharks all morning take one look at him and decide they have severely misread the depth of his feelings for the soft girl they've targeted. Finding no easy prey here, they mumble an apology (to John, the gits, not his rabbit) and dart off to pester a gaggle of teenage girls. John draws himself even closer to his girl, waits until he's certain he can control his voice better. "Fucking bellends. Sorry about them. You okay, honey?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks for that. Sorry I clammed up, I can usually fight my own battles."

John scoffs, unamused. "No need, sweetheart. Unless you'd rather, of course. Actually, sorry if I overstepped. Knee jerk reaction."

"Oh, no, trust me, you're fine. Not mad at all." Her breath is soft, nearly amused, and John can't help but feel a little proud at having turned her mood around so quickly.

"Do you want to go do something else?"

"And let them know they bothered me? Absolutely not."

John grins, hums appreciatively. "That's my girl." His grin only widens when she blushes at the term.

They talk about their hometowns when they're not busy stumbling. John tells her about Hereford and his mom, and she tells him how similar this area is to where she grew up. She deflects a bit when asked about her family and John doesn't pry. He wishes she would tell him everything, of course, but can't help being a tiny bit selfishly pleased at the knowledge there's no tight knit family waiting for her back home. He tries asking about Dallas instead but the answers she provides are stiff and rehearsed, and her body language locks up so much it negates the small progress she's made in her skating abilities. John quickly moves on to film preferences and she's quick to loosen back up (she likes period dramas and high fantasy and isn't immune to a night in with a kid's movie).

Eventually her discomfort seems to catch up with her and John thinks he has the unique experience of realizing she will need to make a sanitary run to the bathroom before she does. He debates how best to handle it for exactly thirty seconds before his mouth is moving.

"Do you want to go get lunch?"

The rabbit stops, turning to face him fully. Well, John stops. She grabs his coat sleeve and tries to convert her momentum into a quick u-turn. It's mostly successful in that John has to swing an arm around her back to keep her upright. It's extremely successful in that the momentum carries her right on through and into his chest, where he keeps her pinned tight just because she seems quite content there. "You don't have to work?"

John shrugs, knowing Simon may well quit. "What's the point in being the boss if I can't bang in late every now and again?"

"I guess, but you don't want to -?"

Whatever she's about to suggest is interrupted by the very loud sound of John's stomach growling.

"Oh so that was more a cry for help than a suggestion?" the rabbit laughs, cute little nose scrunching up.

"I may be bloody famished, yeah."

"Oh, poor pumpkin. What are you feeling, then?" she asks as she heads off toward the exit, confident as she skates out of his arm's reach.

"Burgers. Maybe steak. Or lamb." Really, he wants an entire barrel of fish and perhaps some apples, but he wants to feed his poor little mate a mouthful of iron supplements more.

"It's lunch time," she laughs at him.

"Burgers, then?"

"Yeah, alright." He helps lower her onto the hall carpet and squats to help her with her laces. "You don't have to do that," she tells him but he just shakes his head at her.

"Want to." She's quiet after that, perhaps a little contemplative. She excuses herself while he returns the skates and when she comes back she smells like the fake, perfumed chemical they coat feminine products in which always sticks to his nose.

Honestly, cunt is supposed to smell like cunt. Even when it smells like a bloody cunt. Humans are fucking ridiculous.

"Hope you know I'm driving you there," John informs as he holds the door for her yet again.

"That doesn't even make any sense," his rabbit laughs. "You're gonna drive me all the way back here before going into work?"

"Might do. Or: new bartender starting today. Might let you be his guinea pig all evening."

"Oh yeah? You trying to loosen my morals?" Her tone is light and airy but something has shuttered behind her eyes.

"No," John's voice is confident but quietly reassuring. "I'm trying to get you all lushed and cute tonight and then maybe try my hand tomorrow when you're charmed and impressed by the breakfast I make. How well you handle a hangover depending," he tacks on with a teasing little wink.

She blinks once, twice.

"That okay?"

"No. Well, yes, but uh -. It's not a good... time."

John just cocks his head at her, knowing full well what she means but needing to hear her say it so he has an excuse to spoil her.

The rabbit sighs, "It's just -. Christ this is embarrassing. If that's your end goal you should maybe know I'm on my period. Just so you don't get your hopes up too much."

"Oh, poor lamb." John's smile is wolfish, the cat that got the cream. "And here I've had you on your feet all morning. Do you want to get lunch? Or would you rather just curl up? I can make you something if you'd rather not stay out."

"No, that's - um. Lunch sounds good, thank you, but uh -. You're not… mad?"

A beat. John's smirk slides slowly off his face. "Mad?"

"I mean, if that was your plan and I'm… you're not upset?"

"No, honey…" John's not entirely sure how to handle this turn. Logistically he knows the first step should be reassurance, but there's a desperate, cloying, insightful little creature in his chest that wants to push all these niceties aside and demand why she would think he was mad. "A man can dream, but I had no expectations. There's nothing to be mad about." She gives him a wan smile and he can't help but continue, "In fact, I oughta give you my mum's number. I ever seem mad about that, you go ahead and tell her to sort me out."

It works, the quiet giggle she lets out has a touch too much relief for his taste, but he'd take that over whatever the hell misplaced anxiety she'd just been exhibiting.

"Can chastise you myself, you know. No mum's needed."

"Oh thank God. Would way rather you do it. She can be proper scary."

"And I can't?"

"Rabbits aren't scary. You ever yell at me, it won't be fear makes me change my ways."

"Not scary? They don't make kids sit on the Easter bunny's lap back home? I still gotta steer clear of malls this time of year."

John grins again, can't help the mental image she's conjured of him having to scare off a man in a pink bunny suit for her. "So I'll have to wait at least a month to spoil you with a shopping trip, noted."

She splutters. "You don't have to do that ever!"

He shrugs, "Told you, want to. Now get in, I'm hungry enough I'd eat you if you held still long enough." When she blanches, scandalized, he can't help but grin.

"Okay, yeah, let's go. But -."

John resolutely doesn't let his smile drop lest she thinks he's mad again, but he can't help the punched out feeling her continued protests elicit.

"- if I'm spending the night, I do definitely need to drive the Jeep to a more anonymous parking lot. That thing gets towed, I'm screwed."

Yes, it sure would be a shame if someone hobbled her speedy little den before she realized she belonged with him. Still, "I'll tell you what. You keep letting me treat you to lunches and dinners and whatever other little excursions we can come up with and I'll let you park at the bar whenever you'd like, hm?"

"What, so I can deal with the noisy neighbors?"

"Have it on good authority the second floor's pretty well sound proofed. You can hang your hat up there if it ever bugs you," he winks. "But fine, go get your bloody buggy. I'll send you the address, yeah?"

Next>>

[rentumblsstuff]

Y’all mind if I headcanon dump one of my favorite Hatchetfield ships on you guys real quick-

HEADBANGEAR

It’s Ruth and Rosary-

Rose is so used to being nonchalant so Ruth’s overreactions and exuberance would throw her off her game and accidentally drop her guard

Ruth would be like “you wanna hear some REAL hardcore shit??” And just throws on a musical soundtrack and Rose finds it so endearing that THIS is what she considers hardcore?? Micheal in the Bathroom??? She actually smiles.

Rose talks big game and seeing someone with so many insecurities and fears out in the open and wearing her heart on her sleeve would make her feel safer not to hide her own. She doesn’t feel like she needs to be hardcore 24/7 to still be considered cool

Rose really helps Ruth with her stage fright so she can pursue her dreams of being a broadway actress (total princess and the frog moment with “my dream isn’t complete without you in it”)

Russ and Beth think Ruth is a wonderful influence and they’re right… but also she’s a superfreak so Rose will allow them to like Ruth even though she’d think it was more fun to be rebellious and have a partner her parents don’t like

Sarcastic pessimist vs blunt optimist

She hyperfixated on Wicca in her sophomore year (GEEK). Ruth would cream her jeans if Rose gave her a palm reading

Rose likes twiggy bitches and doesn’t care if they smell bad (looking at you Kale… Ya mothafucka…)

SUN AND MOON GIRLFRIENDS! BLACK CAT AND ORANGE CAT GIRLFRIENDS!

The nicknames Roo and Rosie-

They’d either by shockingly vanilla and sweet as fuck or literally into sacrificial ritual roleplay no in between

SERENADING EACH OTHER BY SINGING OR PLAYING GUITAR. Moments of them singing and playing together too and Ruth sometimes stops singing cause she gets distracted by the look on Rose’s face (either eyebrows drawn together intensely focused on her playing or she’s looking at Ruth with so much love in her eyes)

THEY GO TO SEE THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW EVERY TIME THEY CAN-

Also Ruth deserves an alt gf. Ruth wearing a spiky leather jacket and everyone is like ??? And she says “it’s my girlfriend’s 😊” DON’T YOU WANT THAT FOR HER?!?!! DON’T YOU WANT HER TO BE HAPPY?

On one of their dates Ruth definitely got her a stuffed animal so in Rose’s room it’s all metal as fuck until you see the little yellow bunny on her bed. Rose tried to make it look more metal by giving it safety pin piercings but she couldn’t bring herself to change the little bun bun.

Rose thinks the headgear is honestly pretty metal. She doesn’t know how to explain it until she rewatches Saw and sees the reverse bear trap-

And of course they fit this text post too well

[jatcv]

@kaiju-wolfdragon-the-rp

Cj/Stella: (purrs) ^^

Baby twiggy and tacky

[isitfurbait]

Honestly this is my first time doing this...

Is Agent fox(From the movie of nearly the same name)and the female bunny from the same movie Furbait?

Hi, welcome, it's been only a year and half since you put this in!

I know none of these characters, but that won't stop me from being objective about their designs. For comedy's sake, I'm going off description left to right, then tagging the actual characters' names after the fact.

Blue twiggy rabbit: Yeah, I mean, this is a comic relief character who looks like he gets into odd shenanigans. I can see him having some cultural feedback from just existing,

knockoff peppy hare: No kidding, this man looks like he's got some mileage on him. I'm down for it. He seems like the kind of guy who'd tell you all about his trip to Maui and Oahu, telling you about all the military bases there.

CJ from Over the Hedge: This is our guy! The agent fox! Seeing that this movie came out in 2015, I'm going to say that actually Dreamworks stole from them. A guy. Not particularly the hottest fox, but still, he's there for sure

Dark blue muscle rabbit: I get the feeling these rabbits are all related and this guy is the oldest brother. Like he just seems the kind that if you flirt with the white bunny at the end of this post, you'll never be found again. We gotta love the muscle of the group

Haru from Beastars: I mean. She's a white bunny with chest fluff that is meant to be breasts. What do you expect?

All of these are furrybait. I am standing by that.

[whitealbum]

new icon twiggy with a bunny :3 i haven’t changed my pfp in 5 years so this is monumental actually

[acvillagerdeathmatch]

This is gonna be the pinned post where I list all the polls as they go up! So it's gonna change! Give me a minute if im slow to update this post because I'm BUSY. I have THINGS TO DO.

Shitty tournament diagram pls enjoy my terrible handwriting.

Active polls:

Round 2:

Shino v Bruce

Chief v Audie

Amelia v Sunny

Meow v Apollo

Pierre v Walt

Vesta v Bob

Butch v Coco

Bam v Beau

Kabuki v Lolly

Kitty v Ankha

Tangy v Purrl

Willow v Bow

Petri v Molly

Sasha v Shep

Fauna v Lopez

Sherb v Chevre

Skye v Kyle

Marshal v Cheri

Etoile v Pietro

Olivia v Marina

Agnus v Pekoe

Gayle v Roald

Goldie v Whitney

Merengue v Margie

Dotty v Judy

Muffy v Cherry

Sprinkle v Chai

Stitches v Rosie

Punchy v Diana

Cephalobot v Lily

Ketchup v Lucky

Gladys v Maple

Completed polls:

Round 1:

Nindori, Wolfgang, Marshal, Hans, Epona, Frita, Ed, Eugene, Ace

Croque, Drift, Bertha, Ankha, Eunice, Bonbon, Hopkins, Diva, Leopold

Ozzie, Analog, Anicotti, Roscoe, Stitches, Cranston, Kiki, Megan, Boris

Megumi, Pancetti, Drake, Zucker, Etoile, Ione, Gen, W. Link, Deena

Rizzo, Pecan, Leonardo, Hugh, Alice, Henry, Chai, Cyrano, Curlos

Flurry, Vivian, Genji, Fang, Kit, Wendy, Azalea, Tammy, Beau

Tasha, Pango, Sprinkle, Kidd, Egbert, Barold, Lobo, Del, Pate

Mott, Peck, Robin, Margie, Chops, Hippeux, Big Top, Flip, Annalisa

Woolio, Rodeo, Rodney, Lulu, Nate, Eloise, Bam, Beardo, Cleo

Inkwell, Paula, Sheldon, Shep, Lucha, Sandy, Jeremiah, Bill, Benedict

Mint, Elmer, Tia, Dobie, Lucy, Betty, Goose, Sasha, Muffy

Sue E, Stu, Petunia, Lyman, Bella, Gloria, Doc, Bruce, Jane

Rolf, Sylvana, Melba, Tammi, Lionel, Murphy, Frett, Samson, Coco

Cupcake, Limberg, Fruity, Dotty, Iggly, Bluebear, Louie, Annalise, Olivia

Vladimir, Rudy, Sven, Shoukichi, Liz, Purrl, Holden, Moe, Dozer

Angus, Broccolo, Blaire, Dizzy, Jay, Frobert, Norma, Lucky, Renee

Tex, Violet, Skye, Sly, Medli, Otis, Kody, Reneigh, Graham

Nosegay, Maddie, Quillson, Shari, Teddy, Sunny, Sally/Hazel, Walker, Snake

Nan, Peaches, Madam Rosa, Lily, Dora, Freya, Cole, Iggy, Bettina

Shino, Spork/Crackle, Scoot, Pompom, Flossie, Knox, Dom, Frank, Anabelle

Pashmina, Piper, Octavian, Lolly, Drago, Bree, Bessie, Alli, Benjamin

Sherb, Tutu, Rooney, Rocket, Diana, Pinky, Curly, Mitzi, Admiral

Tucker, Velma, Sterling, Nibbles, Baabara, Flash, Champ, Joey, Chief

Stella, Wade, Punchy, Poko, Ike, Pierce, Aurora, Boyd, Canberra

Puck, T-bone, Opal, Mallary, Bob, Hank, Blanche, Cyd, Axel

Ketchup, Kevin, Monique, Francine, Astrid, Bitty, Antonio, Hamphrey, Becky

Klaus, Meow, Hector, Hamlet, Belle, Filly, Clay, Emerald, Cobb

Plucky, Valise, Mathilda, Mac, Cephalobot, Ken, Carrot, Filbert, Claude

Victoria, Willow, Zoe, Ursala, Moose, Olaf, Grizzly, Gwen, Chico

Marty, Phoebe, Maelle, Keaton, Freckles, Katt, Carmen, Judy, Cece

Savannah, Poncho, Stinky, Gayle, Billy, Elise, Bangle, Bud, Avery

Truffles, Zell, Tabby, Shinabiru, Petri, Ricky, Maggie, Raddle, Flora

Prince, Tybalt, Vesta, Patricia, Chow, Nana, Chevre, Gonzo, Chadder

Oxford, Jitters, Peanut, Jacques, Felyne, Aziz, Claudia, Apple, Apollo

Miranda, Molly, Tom, Marcel, Clara, Harry, Bones, Maple, Cesar

Quetzal, Whitney, Winnie, Joe, Ganon, Patty, Bea, Mira, Groucho

Ribbot, Sparro, Ruby, Midge, Biff, Marina, Anchovy, Papi, Camofrog

Quinn, Pierre, Spike, Merry, Gladys, June, Gruff, Olive, Carmen

Paolo, Lulu, Vic, Juubei, Lopez, Gala, Deidre, Elvis, Gabi

Sprocket, Static, Marcie, Marlo, Goldie, Julian, Felicity, Huggy, Ellie

Rowan, Viche, Twiggy, Greta, Puddles, Penny, Cally/Sally, Bow, Chuck

Penelope, Slyvia, Pekoe, Peewee, Fuschia, Leigh, Jambette, Masa, Boots

Simon, Weldon, Queenie, Kitty, Curt, Amelia, Agent S, Pigleg, Alfonso

Rocco, Toby, Tiansheng, Rhoda, Hambo, Naomi, Bunnie, Hazel, Audie

Rollo, Yodel, Kyle, Tipper, Flo, Kabuki, Candi, Colton, Broffina

Tiffany, Weber, Gaston, Chelsea, Elina, Bubbles, Boone, Buzz, Agnes

Peggy, O'Hare, Yuka, Monty, Chester, Cookie, Celia, Koharu, Butch

Sydney, Rory, Wart Jr., Pudge, Kid Cat, Merengue, Fauna, Pippy, Cube

Rex, Timbra, Tank, Rasher, Cheri, Faith, Ava, Huck, Chabwick

Poppy, Roswell, Pietro, Phil, Hopper, Kitt, Clyde, Erik, Boomer

Twirp, Rod, Rosie, Rhonda, Rio, Portia, Julia, Coach, Cousteau

Tangy, Tarou, Tad, Hornsby, Daisy, Deli, Buck, Chrissy, Al

Rilla, Snooty, Marcy, Cherry, Biskit, Carrie, Bianca, Caroline/Bliss, Aisle

Soleil, Tiara, Roald, Jakey/Jacob, Friga, Gigi, Charlise, Derwin, Cashmere

Raymond, Walt

[voxofthevoid]

Twiggy twink teen Satoru from the anime makes me feral about Yuuji railing him. Swole mountain adult Satoru from the manga also makes me feral about Yuuji railing him. My plot bunny count is 60 now.

I am one(1) man with only twenty-four hours a day. Can you see my struggle here, Tumblr 😔

[peonyblossom]

17 and 20 for the trauma asks for your ILS MCs

Okay I am going to do this for Every Single It Lives MC I have so far which is So Many because I love them all

ILITW

Harry (Andy and Noah romancer) 17. Do they have any pets? Yes! A black kitty named Trash Baby (Trash for short), a crow named Merlin, and a vine creature named Moss 20. Will they recover from their trauma or will it consume them? Considering he becomes Redfield at the end of ILITW I would say that at first the trauma consumes him, but after Noah brings him back in ILW he learns to recover (very, very slowly)

Raven (Ava romancer) 17. Yes, a black cat named Cattywampus, a crow named Morgana, and a vine creature named Twiggy. 20. Same as Harry. She becomes Redfield, so the trauma consumes her for a while, but she eventually recovers after she comes back.

Jesse (Connor romancer) 17. Yes, a black cat named Alley, a crow named Midnight, and a vine creature named Mossy Boy. I also hc that he and Connor adopt a second cat after they get married who is a tabby cat named Tapioca. 20. He will recover from his trauma. (He doesn't get Redfielded)

ILB

Issak 17. Yes, a jackalope named Jackalope 20. Yes, eventually

Fiona (Imogen romancer) 17. Yes, a jackalope named Bunny. I also headcanon that she and Imogen adopt a longhair kitty and name her Princess 20. Yes, eventually

River (Tom romancer) 17. Yes, a jackalope named Forest 20. Yes, eventually

ILW

Ollie (Abel romancer) 17. No 20. Yes, eventually

Keagan (Lincoln romancer) 17. Yes, I headcanon that they and Lincoln adopt two cats after they get married. A black cat named Ink and a tuxedo cat named Bowie 20. It will consume them for a while. Eventually they will recover, years down the line.

Lottie (Amalia romancer) 17. No 20. Yes, eventually

[ostensiblynone]

Sometimes when I'm visiting Dad in Indiana I drive past that old place. It's run down now. The fruit trees are gone, the hazelnut and crabapple trees in the hedgerow have been cleared and the space bushhogged and there are no rows of cedars or peonies, and the paddock, the fence, the swimming pool, the pole barn—it's all gone. But if I could go there, buy it, and rebuild it exactly the way it was, with the same shag carpet, wicker furniture, artwork, wallpapers, tables and chairs, and blue tile in the bathroom, the puzzle-like kitchen tiles, then we would all be there again, back before we moved and Mom made Dad sell our things at auction, when there were kegs floating in large bins and a lamb roasting in the driveway and the antiquated, rusty farm equipment in the yard. When I die, if there is a heaven, and if I go there, then it will be that farmhouse exactly as it was in 1984. Death's white light is the lamppost in the drive. I arrive at the mailbox. I walk toward the light. I look to my legs, and I'm wearing Dad's boxers, the same ones I used to wear. My legs are those twiggy things they once were with mosquito bites and the poison ivy, but it doesn't itch because this is heaven. And I'll be that little boy again but with a real boy penis this time appropriate to my age with the little strawberry-colored nub that floats up in the tub while I'm in the bubble bath. My hair will be short and parted on the left. Bunny will be at the top of the drive, and she will pick me up and carry me into the house and I'll smell the lavender shampoo in her hair and beer emanating from her pores. She will be my big sister again. My best friend. Mom and Dad and Kelley and Nina will be there, too. The barn cats, horses, pigs, cow, chickens, rooster, pony, they'll all be there. It will be Fourth of July and family and friends will be in the pool, Mom will smoke unfiltered cigarettes with impunity with her best friend, Mrs. Petrovic, and we'll all eat roast pig and lamb. I'll meet Dad's grandparents for the first time ever. Busia will bring the czarnina and Jaja will bring the wine. I'll look as if I'm too little to drink but I'll drink anyways because in heaven you're any age you want to be and in whichever body you want to be, and it will be fine for me to have a drink with my great-grandparents. Then I think everything will feel good. But I don't know. I always want the things I want and work very hard to get them and then once I have them, I don't know if I want them anymore. Maybe I won't like heaven.

—Iliana Regan, Fieldwork