for his perfect fur

Just a Dream

So I have fallen completely in love with @thebbros and I encourage you all to check it out and give @blogthegreatrouge the creater of this AU some love! This has made me really excited to get back into writing, which more will be coming soon. Until then, thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy. So without further ado, all aboard for another adventure! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ozzy? Wake up honey, you don’t want to be late for your own show do you?”

The rabbit grumbled a bit before he opened his eyes, the sweet call of his wife enticing the sleep to part.

“Mmm…Ortensia?” Drowsiness coating his voice.

Wait a minute, Ortensia!?

He bolted upright, the covers flying in sudden shock. How? She was dead, he was there! His hands had been drenched in her blood, tears, and that sickly ink. What kind of a sick joke was this?!

A soft hand touched his cheek, making him look in that direction. She stared in his eyes, filled with loving concern.

“Ozzy? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He could hardly speak. She was there, alive right in front of him. Was it all just a bad dream?

He couldn’t help himself, he pulled her tight against him, tears flowing down his furred cheeks. He wanted to take everything in. Her smell, her warmth, her soft fur. He would never let anything happen to her again.

“Oswald? Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked worriedly. She only ever used his birth name when she was worried or cross.

He pulled back, wiping his tears with a soft laugh.

“Heh, yeah. Just…*sniff*…just had a bad dream is all.“

She gently wiped the tears that stained his fur as he lovingly kissed her small, gentle, perfect hand.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

He kissed her lips, soft and slow, cherishing the moment.

“Nah, I’m ok now that you’re here. Besides, we’ve got a show to do!”

~~~~~~

The crowd cheered, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Man was he excited for today’s act! He held out his hand to Ortensia, glittering in her pink assistant uniform.

“Well, it’s almost time. Ready to make magic and dreams come true Ortensia?”

With a soft purr, she reached out and held his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, smiling warmly.

“Always.”

With a final kiss, and a tremendous magical entrance, they smiled and waved, the cheers of the crowd raising their spirits.

Oswald looked around, it felt like it had been years since he felt this much excitement, this much joy. Everything was alright. He was living the dream.

He turned toward his wife, but for some reason she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Everything suddenly felt cold.

“W-what?”

He frantically looked around. What happened to the crowd, the light? Ortensia? Everyone was gone and he was left alone in the dark.

“Ortensia! Where are you?” His heart beat frantically as he ran, his legs taking him anywhere and nowhere.

The sound of a spotlight turning on startled him. He turned slowly around, fearing what he might find.

“Ortensia!”

She lay there in the light, still, lifeless, her back facing him. Without hesitation, he ran towards her, tears welling up in his eyes. He carefully lifted her light body, turning her face towards him. His hands shook, eyes wide in disbelief.

“O-ozzy? Ozzy please…Help me…It hurts…” Her soft voice, barely a whisper cracked, the words choking amidst the ink. Her once beautiful eyes had now been ripped of color, blinded by the ink ravaging every inch of her midnight fur.

“H-how…?”

She seized up in his arms, the pain more intense than ever, her screams filling his ears.

Why? This wasn’t supposed to happen! What about their hopes? Their dreams!?

Her tears mixed with the ink, her screams of anguish bleeding out in an awful chorus. He held her tightly, his own screams joining in.

“ORTENSIA!!!”

~~~~~~~~~

He woke up with a start, the sheets crumpling under him. His tired eyes surveyed the empty room, cold and dull. His hand, fur rough and unkempt rubbed his once again emotionless face.

It was just a dream.

Stupid.

The door creaked open and brightly, but quietly hopped in one of his many beautiful children. They crept close to the bed, their large eyes filled with youth staring up at his withered eyes.

“Papa? Uncle Goofy and I want to know if you’d like to come with us to go shopping?”

He stared blankly, the fright from earlier long since gone. He reached down and lifted the child up, a quick hug, stiff but filled with a pained love. He nodded solemnly. The words mocked his mind as he walked out the room with his child.

It’s your fault the dream died.

His emotionless face showed nothing of the demons he fed, his hand loosely holding the tender paw. Today was just another day without her. Sure he loved his children dearly, but without her, how could he ever smile again? His baby brother, friends, his own kids always tried to cheer him up, to make him smile even a little. But for everyone, even himself, it would never be.

That would just be another hopeless dream.

Conquer You - Chapter 4

@tomboy-till-death @ladyvampirelove @neverlands-little-lost-girl @itharley @samantha24015 @peculiarleah @skeletoresinthebasement @thenorns-themoirai @kirah31 (I hope I didn’t forget anyone)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

—————————————————————————————————-

It was completely dark. Only a small ray of silvery moonlight fell through the window, illuminating a square on the wall. Around her, Thyra could hear the quiet snores of the three women she shared the room with. She almost envied them. Her body was begging for some rest but the sleep just wouldn’t come. It couldn’t be long until sunrise now, she had been rolling around in the furs for hours. These damned furs! She couldn’t stop imagining Ivar sleeping in them. Was it even true or had he just made it up to confuse her feelings even further? It would suit him. But on the other hand there weren’t too many private rooms in the great hall and since this one contained four beds, it was quite possible that it was the room he had shared with his brothers. She buried her face into the furs and inhaled deeply. Maybe there was the slightest hint of his scent she thought, or maybe she was just imagining things.

Thyra let out a frustrated sigh. There was another question that was tormenting her mind. How did Ivar know which bed she slept in? Was it possible that he had come in here at night without anyone noticing? She herself had found him in the throne room in the middle of the night just a couple of days ago. The thought of him sneaking in here at night sent chills down her spine. The warrior inside of her was filled with consternation at the thought of someone entering the room without her even noticing, but the woman inside of her felt an excited thrill imagining Ivar secretly watching her at night. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering even further. What if he had come to her bed? She wondered how it would be to share the furs with him, to have his perfect, strong body pressed to hers. Almost subconsciously her hand slipped under her sleeping gown and between her legs. Silent moans escaped her lips as she remembered the feeling of Ivar’s weight on top her or the taste of his lips.


As soon as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon Thyra was up and on her feet, exhausted from two nights without sleep but relieved that she could finally busy herself to distract her wandering thoughts. She felt guilty for the way she was feeling about Ivar, even more since she had allowed him to kiss her. She had always taken pride in her loyalty and now she was betraying her queen and her closest friends. In order to ease her guilt she decided that she should at least try and do something about the thread Ivar was representing. She knew that there was no point in talking to him again. He was too determined in his plan and too hungry for revenge, but maybe his brother would listen to her. Ubbe made the impression of being much more reasonable than his younger brother, so it was worth a try.

She made her way towards the cabin the brothers now lived in, hoping that Ubbe was up already and that she would get the chance to talk to him alone. The gods seemed to approve of her plan, for she found him sitting under the small canopy in front of the cabin. He was putting a new string in his bow but looked up from his work as he saw her approach. His face showed surprise as he noticed her, but then quickly turned into a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

“What does she want?”

Thyra narrowed her eyes. “What does who want?”

“Lagertha. Did she not send you here?”

“No. I came on my own.”

Ubbe just raised an eyebrow and looked at her expectantly so she continued. “I came here to talk to you.”

He leaned back against the cabin wall. “And what is it you want to talk about?”

Thyra’s gaze drifted towards the half open front door. “Are your brothers here too?”

He shook his head. “They are in town.”

She let out a relieved breath and shifted uncomfortably as she felt Ubbe’s curious gaze on her, not really knowing how to bring up the topic she wanted to talk about.

“That was quite an impressive fight between you and my brother that day.” Ubbe said, breaking the silence.

She looked at him in surprise, feeling her cheeks blush. “Yeah, but that’s not what I came here to talk about.” She hurried to say. “I’m here to ask you if there’s any way you would consider letting go of your plans for revenge.”

His face hardened at her words, in way quite similar to how Ivar’s had when she had brought up the topic, just without the blazing anger in his eyes. Thyra wanted to hit her head against the wall for blurting things out like that and probably ruining her chance to achieve anything, but he had made her nervous by mentioning Ivar and subtleness and eloquence had never been her strong sides.

“And why would I do that?” He asked and Thyra was almost surprised that his voice sounded calm and controlled. It gave her a new spark of hope, maybe he would still listen to what she had to say.

“Because if you kill Lagertha, you through Kattegat into chaos. Her people won’t let you get away with that. There will be massive fights, many people will die, ours and yours.”

He slowly nodded. “You’re probably right about that, but she killed my mother. It is my duty to avenge her.”

“I know. But now is really not the time, don’t you see that.”

“I understand what you mean, but that doesn’t matter much. Even if you convince me, there’s still Ivar and he won’t listen to you, believe me on that one.”

Thyra let out a sigh. “Probably not. But maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Ubbe chuckled. “No he won’t.”

“So you two kill Lagertha. What then? Hmm?” She said, narrowing her eyes. “Do you become king or Ivar?”

Ubbe chewed on his lip and by the expression on his face Thyra could tell that he had never thought that far. Ivar on the other hand surely had, she was certain of that.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just promise me to think about what’s best for your people, okay?” She gave him a small smile and turned to leave.

She couldn’t help but grin as soon as he couldn’t see her anymore. She knew she hadn’t fully convinced him but she had surely gotten him to think. It was more than she had expected to achieve.

As she reached the great hall she met Lagertha and Astrid who were just about to leave.

Lagertha greeted her with a warm motherly smile. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Thyra said, smiling back. “Where are you going?”

“Just to the market. I need to get out of these walls for a while.”

“Do you want me to accompany you? There are still many people in Kattegat who see you as an usurper. Another sword and another set of eyes doesn’t hurt.”

“There’s no need to. I’ll be with her.” Astrid stated.

But Lagertha nodded. “Join us.”

Astrid looked as if she wanted to protest again, but one look from Lagertha silenced her. The queen knew as well as Thyra did that Ivar wasn’t the only one still loyal to Aslaug. So Thyra stayed close to Lagertha’s side watching the crowd when the queen was looking at the market stands.

They were already on their way back home when her gaze fell upon a familiar face. Ivar was sitting on a barrel not far from her. He played with his knife but was clearly watching them all the while. His ocean blue eyes bored into her and she was unable to look away. She cursed the gods for making him so handsome.

That moment she heard running steps behind her but before she could turn around she was roughly shoved to the side. She stumbled against one of the market stands and saw the man that had shoved her approaching Astrid, his sword raised high above his head. Lagertha was already fighting a second man and Thyra hurried to get back on her feet. The queen seemed to be fine, easily parrying her opponent’s blows but Astrid was clearly in trouble. The man attacking her was huge and she had to retreat step by step because she simply couldn’t match his strength. Thyra felt rage boil deep inside of her as she drew her twin blades and hurried to Astrid’s side. Just as she reached them, the man grabbed Astrid’s free arm and brutally pulled her to the side. The woman lost her balance and hit her head against a pole that held up the roof of one of the stands. She immediately lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

The man raised his sword but before he could end it Thyra was by the others woman’s side, blocking the blow. One second later a wild and brutal fight evolved. This giant of a man was surpassing her strength by far and her arms ached with every blow she had to block, but once again her two blades gave her an advantage. After struggling for what seemed like hours, she managed to hit the man’s sword from an unexpected angle with her second blade and sent it flying a few meters away from him. She smiled an evil smile, pointing both her blades to his chest. She heard a cry behind her and briefly looked over her shoulder to see Lagertha kill her attacker, before she returned her attention to the man in front of her. He gave her a small nod as if he was acknowledging his defeat and went to his knees, chin held up high. If Thyra hadn’t been so full of adrenaline and so angry with herself for reacting too late, she might have admired this man’s courage. She crossed her swords in front of his throat, the tips of the blades resting on his shoulders. This man had tried to kill her queen. This man had shoved her out of the way, thinking she was just a little girl and no real thread. Oh, how she had proven him wrong. If she had only been more alert in the first place. She had been distracted looking at Ivar. Again burning anger shot though her veins, clouding her vision.

“Let him live. I want to question him.” It were Lagertha’s words but it was if they were coming from far away. Red fog clouded Thyra’s mind. No, she wouldn’t let this man live. He had underestimated her badly and now he was paying the price. It was as if her hands moved on their own, slowing pulling the swords to the sides, slicing the man’s throat. Blood sprayed across her face and the dead body fell to the ground. Very slowly the fog lifted and Thyra blinked, felling the blood run down her face.

She saw Lagertha crouching by Astrid’s side. “I told you to let him live.” The queen was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

Thyra couldn’t answer her. She was still panting, trying to control her raging anger. She slowly shook her head and her gaze fell upon Ivar. He was still sitting in the same spot, watching them with a fascinated grin on his face. She felt her anger rise again and clenched her teeth as she rushed over to him.

“Was this your doing?” She hissed angrily.

Ivar seemed completely unmoved by her furious words. “You know I want to see Lagertha dead, but do you really think I would send someone else to do it? I will take my revenge with my own hands.”

She knew that he was right and her anger slowly faded. “Do you know who is behind this?”

Ivar looked her up and down as if he was considering whether or not to give an answer, but there was also something else in his gaze, something she hadn’t seen there before. He looked at her almost admiringly, as if he saw something fascinating and precious in front of him.

After a few moments he nodded. “I will see what I can find out. Come to the cabin tonight and will tell you everything I know.”

Thyra hesitated for a moment but then nodded before turning to head back to Lagertha and Astrid.

anonymous asked:

oh man i love this stuff about hugging. hugging melia??

I love these too anon. 


Hugging Melia

>She doesn’t get hugged often. The constant supply of hugs ended when her mother died.

>When she hugged her father at Prison Island? It had been almost 60 years that they last hugged.

>She’s touched starved and will not complain about a hug. 

>The only person who hugged her back at the palace was Kallian. He’s the one who gives the best hugs.

>When she starts traveling with Shulk and the gang, Riki’s dad sensor comes in and is determined to make sure she feels loved.

>She learns that Riki, with his roundness and fur, is the perfect size and texture for hugs. She sometimes squeezes a bit too tight, but Riki doesn’t mind.

>When she’s hugging, she has a small smile and her wings flutter. It’s absolutely adorable. 

>Aside from Riki, she finds that Sharla gives the best hugs. 

>She just needs more hugs general. Hug her. Please.

nova-fuller  asked:

I LOVE your trans Sonic character writing. Could you possibly write a trans boy or trans girl Sonic?

There was a little store, tucked between the grocer’s and the video game rental place. People came there for different reasons- some, to learn how to properly use makeup without buying some and realizing it didn’t work with their fur, some to get packers or binders, and some just to talk.

Sonic the Hedgehog was of the latter two.

He’d gotten his first binder there, and would swear by it- the cashier was a raccoon who always knew what to say when customers came in after a bad day of deadnames or misgendering. She always remembered people’s names and had a box of caramels behind the desk.

It had taken a bit to figure out how to make a binder that would blend with the patch on his stomach, but Roxy had helped and found the perfect shade of hedgehog blue to make it match his fur, as well as make sure it wouldn’t slip while he was running.

“Can’t have that for our hero, can we?”

He also came there sometimes just to talk.

Sometimes with Roxy, but sometimes with the customers, many of whom were shocked that the planet-wide celebrity was a trans guy. More than once he’d had one almost start crying, and he’d hugged dozens who couldn’t believe their hero was like them.

Yeah, sometimes he didn’t like his voice or his hips or his breasts, but he talked and talked until he- and everyone else- couldn’t imagine it being any different. He’d laugh and grin and fistbump a new friend who know knew for certain they weren’t alone.

Sometimes, being a hero meant that just being yourself could help others more than anything.

3

Imagine Meeting Wanda In Wakanda

For @thehistorynut19 an awesome contest winner!

Hope you like!!!

~~~

Tiffany sighs in relief as the plane lands safely on the ground. Flying will never not be nerve wracking for her.

Exiting the plane she smiles at the sight of King T'Challa standing in the terminal holding a sign saying “Welcome back to Wakanda Tiffany!”

It’s funny to see guards scattered about trying to blend in as civilians but failing miserably.

“T'Challa how did you manage to escape your duties to greet me at the airport?” Tiffany inquires after embracing her old friend.

“I know how shy you are Tiffany so I took the liberty of taking a day off,” her friend replies with his signature grin.

“How gracious of you,” Tiffany says with a laugh. “So what adventures do you have planned for me this summer?”

“Plenty of adventures involving jungle exploration, super heroes, and of course exotic animals,” T'Challa replies and Tiffany grins. Every summer she comes to Wakanda to study and in her free time plans exploits of the royal level with her friend.

“Speaking of super heroes please tell me that whole situation with the Accords is done.” Tiffany couldn’t come to Wakanda for the Kings funeral because of the super hero battles and political unrest with the accords.

“Not entirely done Tiffany. You’ll see when we get to the compound,” he replies hesitantly. Tiffany sighs and tosses her black hair over her shoulder.

He better not be harboring fugitives.

~~~

He’s harboring fugitives.

“So you have Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Scarlett Witch, Hawkeye, Ant Man, and Falcon all here!” Tiffany exclaims in shock. T'Challa explained that his jungle fort is no longer vacant to her on the way over. Well that and Tiffany clearly saw Falcon flying about from the helicopter window.

“Yes I do.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I sympathize with the Captain and his friend,” he answers as the chopper lands.

“Wow T'Challa just wow. I remember a few months ago you went on a rampage after the Captain and his friend,” Tiffany remarks. “Why the change of heart?”

“The Captains friend did not kill my father nor is he at fault for any of the deaths caused by him. He is a victim like my father,” T'Challa explains somberly. He leads her out f the choker and into the compound as he talks. “His mind was controlled by others.” Tiffany sighs and nods in understanding. She really has nothing against Captain America or James Barnes but she just doesn’t want her friend to get into trouble for harboring fugitives.

“I understand. Di-”

“I also assured them in the breaking into of a government facility and releasing there friends,” T'Challa confesses rapidly and Tiffany closes her mouth in surprise.

“Okay wow T'Challa I am shocked at you. Has this whole king thing gone to your head?” she jokes and playfully elbows him. Tiffany has never seen T'Challa break the rules like that.

“Having new responsibilities has changed me no doubt but I sill do what I think is best,” he replies as they stroll into the guest room where Tiffany always stays. Tiffany has been coming to Wakanda every summer since she was ten, it’s like a second home almost.

“Hey Panther!” she greets happily at the sight of the black cat sprawled over her bed.

T'Challa has had this black cat named Panther ever since his father became to old to be the Black Panther. T'Challa named it Panther because he wanted to have a Panther for a pet but highly disapproved of owning exotic animals.

“How’s my favorite kitty?” Tiffany scoops up the friendly cat and bury her face in his fur.

“I’m just perfect,” he news back and nuzzles my cheek. Tiffany smiles and giggles. She will never not be thankful for her gift to be able to speak to animals.

“I missed you Panther,” Tiffany says and places the cat back on her bed.

“I suppose I missed you as well. It’s hard not having some one who can understand me around here,” Panther responds lazily and stretches out on the sheets. T'Challa watches them talk with a grin on his face, he loves that Tiffany can talk with his beloved cat.

“I know Panther and I’m sorry I had to limit your calls to once a day,” Tiffany apologizes and stories the cats back. Panther used to howl at the phone till T'Challa or someone else would call Tiffany a hundred times a day for her to translate.

“It’s understandable,” he grumbles and promptly falls asleep. Tiffany shakes her head and chuckles.

“I will let you get settled Tiffany. You remember where everything is yes?” Tiffany nods and T'Challa leaves her room. A second later his head likes back in. “One more thing please remain calm if you see some of the heroes milling about, they are aware of your presence and will not harm you.”

“Thanks but I don’t think they’d hurt or bother me anyway!” Tiffany calls as he leaves.

Once he’s gone she unpacks her things and starts studying. Tiffany wants to be a vet so she’s always studying.

~~~

T'Challa comes by at seven and drags Tiffany away from her books and to the kitchen for food.

~~~

“Panther back me up here!” Tiffany whines as T'Challa opens the kitchen door.

“I don’t think I can Tiffany. Food is necessary. Plus when he feeds you he feeds me,” Panther responds nonchalantly.

“Traitor,” Tiffany grumbles. The kitchen door swings open to reveal Captain America making noodles and Falcon preparing salad. Ant Man is looking at the table with furrowed eyes and silverware is pushed across it by ants. Hawkeye is pouring water into glasses and to top it of Scarlett Witch is levitating plates and condiments onto the table.

“Nope,” Tiffany remarks and turns on her heel to leave. She can’t possibly just introduce herself to these heroes! Her poor little shy heart would implode!

“Oh Tiff they don’t bite,” Panther coos and scratches at her heels.

“Friends this is my very good friend Tiffany!” T'Challa booms and snags her arm forcing her to face them. Tiffany blushes red and gives the tiniest of waves.

“It is nice to meet you I am Wanda,” Scarlett Witch says and holds out a dainty had. Her accent sends shivers through Tiffany and when their hands meet Tiffany nearly sighs at the feeling. This girl has the most amazing eyes and figure.

“You’re amazing,” Tiffany gasps and quickly slaps a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t want to say that.”

“It is okay. I believe you are amazing as well,” Wanda replies and Tiffany blushes fifty shades of red. Tiffany really wishes she at least fixed her messy ponytail before dinner.

The other heroes all chime their greetings and soon Tiffany is sat next to Wanda eating pasta Captain America made.

“These noddles are awesome! Really you’re a genius Cap. I love all good but this food takes the cake,” Tiffany gushes and she gorges herself on the pasta.

“Thank you ma'am,” Steve says and Tiffany grins. She’s never been called ma'am before!

“So here to study yes?” Falcon asks and Tiffany nods. “Well I’m curious about how you met T'Challa over there.”

“Oh right, T'Challa and I met while o was on vacation here so many years ago. He saw me talking to a stray cat and insisted I talk to his cat Panther.” Panther instantly meows loudly to make himself known and Tiffany chuckles.

“You can talk to animals!” Scott exclaims. “That’s is wicked! How do you?”

“Yeah it’s pretty fun. I’m a mutant like the X-Men,” Tiffany explains.

The rest of dinner conversation went by smoothly and before she knew it Tiffany was being escorted back to her room by Wanda Maximoff.

“So what do you like?” Wanda inquires and tilts her head at Tiffany.

“I like animals, food, history, and adventures,” Tiffany responds as nonchalantly as she can. “What do you like?”

“Reading your thoughts about how hot you think I am,” Wanda answers causally making Tiffany splutter and choke in shock.

“What?!?”

“Relax I think you’re hot too. So history chick I think you should bring your pretty brown eyes over to my room tomorrow so that we can have an epic adventure,” Wanda murmurs seductively and leans into Tiffany. Wanda sensually kisses her cheek making Tiffany’s stomach flip flop.

“I-I will do that,” Tiffany stammers making Wanda grin.

“One more thing your hair looked fine tonight.”

With that the Scarlett Witch is gone leaving Tiffany to jump in her bed and screech in delight.

~~~

When Tiffany knocks on Wanda’s door the next day she’s instantaneously drug into her room and pushed against the wall.

“I hope you don’t mind this,” Wanda whispers and smashes her lips against Tiffany’s.

Tiffany’s excited reply of ‘I don’t mind in the slightest’ is swallowed by Wanda.

Wanda pulls away after a moment and wipes the edge of her lips to fix her red lipstick.

“I apologize your thoughts were just driving me crazy!”

“No don’t apologize it’s fine really,” Tiffany insists though out of breath. Wanda smiles and engulfs her once more.

Maybe this summer Tiffany can stay a bit longer, you know for extensive studying.

anonymous asked:

“How To Care For Sendak (TM)" : Give him lots of blankets, pillows, and sheets to make a nest, make sure to bathe him, making sure to condition his fur. Rinse him out completely, blow dry him, and brush his fur to perfection. Lots of meat, and many, many hugs and kisses :3 (guess who)

Anonymously or not, send “How To Care For” instructions for my muse

“Considering the specificity of this routine I can only guess that it’s you Nyx and I would have to agree with your instructions.”

@like-a-phoenyx

2

His top hat arrived!! It’s so perfect omg

Furring is the most stressful thing ever. There are so many ugly and uneven seams but I cant really do much about it ;o;

His jaw is fully functionable too! I’ll be adding teeth, eyebrows and a nose once the fur is done c: He should also have the ‘follow-me’ eyes too but Im having a hard time trying to find the material. I know Buckram is used for the iris and pupils so I can see out but for the white of the eye, I just know 'foamies’ is used but I cant find anything on them anywhere. 

But overall I think it’s turning out well for my first fursuit head?

Headcanon || Yoshiaki || Fluff!

Yoshiaki is obsessed with keeping his fur fluffy and shiny. In his free time, grooming his fur is one of his favorite activities. He’s a meticulous groomer who goes to great lengths to obtain his perfect and desired look. Because of this almost religious treatment, his fur is often seen as desirable and comforting to children who will pet and hug him - often thinking he’s a dog or a cat.

Similar to how snow leopards hold their tails in their mouths for comfort, Yoshiaki does the same thing in his fox form. Granted his tail isn’t nearly as long so he curls up into an almost perfect circle to do it while he’s sleeping. It’s a habit from childhood that never really left him. And one of the few things he finds comfort in.

Kitty licks

Pairing: Jikook
Fandom: BTS-fandom / A.R.M.Y.
Genre: pure FLUFF
Word Count: 460
Summary: This is an animal!Bangtan fic with cat!Jimin and bunny!Jungkook and… yeah. I’m THIS desperate. Blame Jikook. *rolls away*
Author’s Note: I don’t know what I am doing with my life. Anyway, please enjoy~ (≧◡≦)

Jimin stretches and yawns. He licks his paw and cleans his head, behind the ears. Such a wonderful day – the afternoon sun is shining with golden and orange beams, there are no clouds in the sky and a warm summer breeze ruffles his short, ginger colored fur. Perfect day to play with Jungkookie.

Jimin jumps off the roof and with his dainty, quick kitty-steps he walks across the garden. In the distance there stands his owner, Kim Taehyung. The boy is Jimin’s favorite human in the whole world – the only human who he allows to scratch his tummy. Taehyung is very nice to his animals and it feels really good to curl up into his lap when it’s raining outside. Jimin meows a little, and Taehyung – who is feeding the ducks – turns his head towards the cat and meows back enthusiastically. Jimin giggles, his owner has no idea what he just said in cat-language.

Taehyung keeps feeding the ducks and watches as one of them – Namjoon – plays with his beautiful Scotch Collie, Seokjin. Those two are getting along pretty well, Seokjin always chases after Namjoon playfully and the duck toddles away with happy quacks. Jimin smiles when he notices Yoongi the turtle next to the ducks. After playing with Jungkook, the second favorite hobby of Jimin is to mess around with the grumpy turtle. It’s fun to watch how Yoongi tries to bite his paw when Jimin slaps him. Those bites never really hurt because Yoongi may seems harsh but he is really kind, especially to annoying, bratty cats.

Jimin meows again as a greeting, and Hobi the horse looks up from the grass and neighs lovingly. Jimin rubs his face to Hobi’s smooth nose and plants a few kitty licks with his rough little tongue on it before turning away and rushing towards the direction of rabbit cages.


“Jiminie, stop! I’m more than clean now!” Jungkook protests weakly but Jimin just can’t stop.

He can’t stop because Jungkookie’s black and white fur is so thick and fluffy, and his eyes are so big and cute, and his ears are so long and soft. Jimin rubs his face against Jungkook’s for the nth time that afternoon and licks the bunny’s head again. Jungkook moves his tiny, pink nose adorably and trembles under him. Jimin usually plays tag with him because Jungkook runs really fast with small hops, and it’s fun to chase and compete with him.

“Yah, Jiminie~ S-stop!” Jungkook squeaks but Jimin can see the adoring look in the bunny’s shy eyes so he keeps licking his fur.

“Only if you clean my ears in return.” Jimin offers, and Jungkook stomps with his foot nervously.

“O-okay.” The bunny stutters finally and Jimin starts purring. It’s a wonderful day, indeed.

Full House Part 3

“What happened to you, sugar?” the barber, Xena, queried, watching the patches of dark brown hair mixed in with the natural strawberry blonde of his roots.
He pointed to Amelia, “She did.”
“Your girlfriend do this to you?” Xena laughed, guiding Owen to a salon chair and wrapping a black cloak around his neck.
“Not my girlfriend,” Owen responded the same time Amelia said, “Not his girlfriend.”
“No girlfriend would do this to me,” he grumbled, flinching at the sound of the shaver turning on. He watched one of his locks fall off his head as the stylist passed with the shaver, silently trying to reprimand himself from crying.

He hadn’t felt cool breeze pass his head in a long time. It was somewhat soothing, except for the fact that all his glorious golden locks were gone, replaced with an army nostalgic, buzz cut. Amelia lay lazily on the couch, flipping mindlessly through a magazine when Owen approached her.
“Hey,” Amelia taunted, looking up from the magazine, “heading back to the army I see.”
“Oh please. You’d cry every day if I left,” he replied snakily, “now let’s go buy you something so I can get on with the rest of my day.”
“Preferably something that would make you go bankrupt, please,” Amelia said, following Owen out of the barber shop.

“Here,” Owen said, handing her the tiny, red lollipop, “your gift.”
“You’re kidding right?” she asked him, not even taking the pop from him. She took in her surroundings, eventually bounding for one of the sports and games stores, “Let’s go in here.” Leave it up to Amelia to go into a game store instead of Forever 21. He rolled his eyes and followed her, sucking on the lollipop instead of saying something worthy of getting kneed in the nuts.
“I didn’t know you played games,” Owen said instead as Amelia glazed her eyes over video games and game systems. She looked back at him, masking a smile when she saw the way the lollipop stick stuck out of his mouth like a happy child.
“Mark and Derek would play them a lot,” Amelia responded reminiscently, “I’d watch them play all day during summer. It was better than hanging out with my three devil sisters. I wonder which one is the most expensive.” He’d experienced it more than once, where Amelia would easily tell him something personal about her childhood and then change the topic quickly after doing so, covering it up with a joke or sly statement like what she’d said just now. He’d known by now not to prod for further details and just went along with it.
“Ha ha,” he said, “very funny.”
“Your tongue is red,” she noticed as he spoke, finally baring her smile. He stuck his tongue out, unbelievingly, so that he could see it.
“That,” Amelia said, looking over his shoulder, oblivious to what Owen was doing, and then walking over, “I. Want. That.”
“Um,” Owen began unnervingly, “are you sure?”
“Meredith said buy me whatever I want, right?” she asked rhetorically, “well I want this.”
She was going to be the death of him.

“Ready. Set. Go!” Meredith heard Amelia say from the kitchen, followed by the sound of plastic cups clanking.
“Done,” she heard Maggie say as she entered the living room.
“What,” Meredith whispered to herself as she noticed her living room was no longer just that. She entered the kitchen just in time to see Owen swallowing a shot.
“Oh, hi,” Amelia greeted her cheekily, a large grin on her face as she watched Owen’s face scrounge in disgust, “the kids are at Callie’s, Ellis included, in case you forgot. Maggie brought home some tequila, do you want?”
“Why is there a pool table in the middle of my living room?” Meredith asked in a spaced out manner.
“Owen bought it for me,” Amelia boasted, playfully elbowing a buzzed Owen.
“Yessir, I did,” he confirmed lazily, resting his arm on Amelia’s shoulder, “For the record, it was a good buy.”
“I thought you said you’d buy her a lollipop?!” Meredith stressed frustratedly.
“Relax, Mer,” Maggie said, refilling her and Owen’s three plastic shot cups with more tequila, “have some tequila.” She pulled out three new plastic shot cups for Meredith without stumbling which Amelia found impressive seeing as she’d taken the same amount of shots as Owen and he was already tipsy.
Meredith sighed and smiled, resting down her bag and taking off her jacket, “Only if you get the lime and salt.” Meredith pulled out three more shot cups, while Maggie retrieved the ingredients, and slid them Amelia’s way.
“You’re obviously already drunk,” Amelia noted as the cups taunted her.
“Grab the sparkling water,” Meredith added, still looking at Amelia, “Shepherd’s taking some lime salt shots too.” Amelia couldn’t help but give her a wide, cheesy grin as she filled her cups with the non-alcoholic liquid. They all counted to three and took one shot, with Owen messing it up and licking the salt after taking the shot instead of before, causing him to taste the full extent of the bitter tequila while everyone laughed at him. Amelia couldn’t help but feel more at home as she watched the three of them laugh and drink, taking another tequila shot with them even though her shots weren’t really alcohol.

With Owen dead in his bedroom, Meredith out cold on the couch and Maggie finally retiring to her bedroom after losing again to Amelia in a game of pool, Amelia made her way to her bedroom only to find Owen taking residence there.
“That’s weird,” she muttered to herself, deciding to sleep in his room for tonight instead of waking him. If that was possible, at least. He was probably too drunk to notice which room he was in, anyways. Things got even weirder as she noticed that Owen’s bedroom door wouldn’t budge. She sighed and went back into her bedroom, keeping as far away as possible from Owen, without falling off the bed.
“Do you like your new pool table?” murmured a very intoxicated Owen, amidst the silence.
“It’s nice, I guess,” she said, smiling in the darkness. More silence loomed before she broke it again by asking, “I don’t really mind but why are you in my bed?”
“I…accidentally locked myself…out of my bedroom,” he slurred, shuffling around the bed and causing it to shake a little. As if it were the most normal thing, he slung his arm over her stomach and pulled her in, causing Amelia to immediately tense up and relax at the same time. She didn’t even know how much she missed being his little spoon until then. She could feel his warmth radiating through her clothes and, knowing she’d probably regret her actions tomorrow, she flipped over to face him. His eyes were closed, a soft snore escaping his lips rhythmically. It was funny how, in this moment, she wanted to stroke his hair, knowing that it was her fault that she’d have to settle for running her fingers across the spiky fur of his buzzed haircut. He smelled like a perfect mix of sweat and cologne with no trace of alcohol she could smell.
“You showered,” she stated as a fact.
The moonlight, coming from the window, illuminated Owen’s ocean eyes when he opened them and Amelia could see the tiny outline of the moon itself in them. She watched as his dilated eyes analysed her, her eyes doing the same.
“I did,” he responded, edging his face closer to hers, “although I don’t know if you count falling in the shower five times as bathing.” The sound of her laughter filled the room and he relished in the beautifully chilling noise.
Her grin remained, “Yeah, we can count it, I guess.” He smiled then closed his eyes, shifting his face even closer to Amelia’s so that their noses were almost touching now.
“Are you tired?” she asked, not sure if she’d be happy or sad if he said yes.
“90% wasted, 10% tired,” he whispered.
“I miss him. A lot. But especially when we were hanging out today. Derek would’ve loved the pool table and tequila. It’s why I bought it,” she confessed sadly, looking at his closed eyelids.
“Yeah, I figured,” he declared.
“Really?”
“No, actually,” he confesses, chuckling, “it’s the alcohol speaking. Ignore it.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I missed ‘the other’ Dr. Shepherd when we were hanging out today,” Owen continued.
“That’s the alcohol speaking,” Amelia tried to joke, even though she was becoming a nervous wreck at his description of her.
“Maybe. Or that’s the alcohol giving me liquid courage,” he commented, giving her an Eskimo kiss. Her eyes fluttered close as his nose nuzzled hers and she attempted to refrain from sighing audibly.
“Owen,” she began, too mesmerised by his soft nose kisses to pull away, “you’re drunk.”
“You’re the one who flipped over. Are you trying to take advantage of me, Dr. Shepherd?”
His lips came after, softly touching hers, so softly that she questioned if it had actually happened. She felt his hand cup her back and pull her closer as his lips pressed more firmly against hers this time, his tongue passing across her bottom lip, and she couldn’t help but kiss him back. He pulled her body on top of him and ran his hands up her thighs to her ass as they kissed, squeezing it forcefully as he guided it to grind against him. She felt him moan into her mouth as one of his hands slid under the back of her shirt, fighting to unclasp her bra.
“I don’t recall this being so hard to do,” he murmured, fiddling with the clasp.
She looked down at him and grinned, whispering, “Maybe it’s because you’re drunk?” His eyes opened wide as he made the realisation.
“We probably shouldn’t do this,” she added, wanting so badly to do the opposite of what she said, “I don’t want to 'take advantage’ of you.”
“You’re probably right,” Owen confirmed, letting Amelia fall to the side of him.
“It’s a good thing, though,” he said after a few seconds.
“Why?” she asked him.
“My condoms are in my bedroom.”

anonymous asked:

What is your opinon on frosted flakes?

Mr. Conductor told himself that he would never think of…of HIM again. So many painful memories…so many things he wished he hadn’t said…it would’ve been less painful to forget it all. And for awhile, he did.

But as soon as he heard those words…frosted flakes……the memories came surging back, and there was nothing that Mr. Conductor could do to stop them…

“Being in a relationship with a cereal mascot never works out, Conductor. I would know. I am one.”

Mr. Conductor frowned at his phone, though he knew that the voice coming from it would not see his expression. He had been in a loving relationship with Tony for eleven months, and he had grown used to being told it ‘wouldn’t work out’. From strangers on the street to his own mother, no one seemed to hesitate to tell him their negative opinions on his love life. He got it, he really did. It was just discouraging to hear these words from his best friend.

The voice on the phone continued, “I know, you don’t wanna hear this, but hear me out. Please. You and Tony are my best and only friends on this godforsaken Earth. You two mean the world to me. And I can’t just stand by and watch the inevitable train wreck that’s going to happen.”

Mr. Conductor squeezed his temples, “Trix, I know you’re trying to help, but really? It’s almost been a year, and all the bad things that people say will happen just aren’t happening! Has it ever occurred to anyone that Tony and I are the exception? That we’re truly, honestly in love?”

“Conduct-”

“And don’t you forget, it’s because of you that we ended up confessing our love at the top of Niagara Falls on the night of April 9th!”

Trix sighed deeply, and Mr. Conductor felt bad for snapping at him. Trix’s depression began to settle in roughly six months ago, and looking back, he wished that he had been there more for his best friend. It was rough, having to keep up that hyper and energetic persona when he really just wanted to curl up in bed and finally, finally taste the delectable taste of Trix cereal and/or yogurt.

“Trix…I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m scared, you know? I love Tony more than I thought possible…more than I should, maybe. Ever since the Once-ler, I just-”

“I know, Conductor, I know,” Trix interrupted. “I know you love him, and I know he loves you too. But it’s going to end in disaster. I’m sorry but that’s the truth.”

Mr. Conductor took a seat at the kitchen table. It was littered with empty Frosted Flakes boxes that Tony had promised to clean up the previous night (but his schedule was so busy and tiring, Mr. Conductor couldn’t fault him). He picked up one of the boxes to admire his smiling, beautiful boyfriend on the cover.

Though, maybe not boyfriend for long, Mr. Conductor thought, thinking of the gorgeous diamond ring that he had kept hidden in a shoe box under the bed. The very thought made him smile, until Trix’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Conductor? Hello? Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was distracted.”

He heard Trix sigh again. He sounded so tired. Mr. Conductor was about to ask how much sleep he’d been getting recently, but Trix beat him to it.

“Look, I won’t tell you or Tony what to do. I’m just warning you. Cereal mascots… We’ve got secrets. Things we can’t tell people. We are born into a life separated from others and we have no control over that. We have no control over our lives, Conductor! And Tony, he’s a great guy, but he’s no exception to this. His entire life is planned out and you’re not part of it. And I don’t want you to get hurt, Conductor. Not by Tony, not by anyone.”

There was silence. Then, “… Tony won’t hurt me.”

“… I know that he doesn’t want to hurt you. Look, it’s early. Just…keep what I said in mind…and don’t tell Tony, please?”

“Yeah…yeah. Talk to you later, Trix.”

“Good luck, Conductor.”

The call ended, and Mr. Conductor stared at his phone for a good long while. He only ever used it to talk to Trix these days. He had tons of missed calls from his mother; she liked to call him every week or so to beg him to follow the family tradition of becoming a Conductor. That it was his destiny. Eventually, he just stopped answering her calls.

I won’t let my destiny control me. And Tony won’t let his destiny control him. We love each other; that’s all that matters. Putting his phone down, he stood up and tightened the knot on the robe he was wearing. It was Tony’s, but Mr. Conductor loved the way the fabric felt, and Tony thought it looked 'grrrreat’ on Mr. Conductor, so he wore it whenever he got the chance.

“Good morning, love,” purred Tony. Mr. Conductor turned and saw his perfect tiger boyfriend, wearing nothing but his boxers and fur still ruffled from a long night of sleep. Mr. Conductor was so grateful that he was lucky enough to be the only person who got to see Tony like this.

Tony, ever observant, frowned, “Is something bothering you, baby? You look stressed.”

Mr. Conductor gave him a smile. “Oh, it’s nothing.” When Tony didn’t look convinced, Mr. Conductor insisted, “I was on the phone with Trix. He sounded really tired. I don’t think he’s been sleeping.”

“Pfft. Silly rabbit.” Tony shook his head a little, and stepped forward to give Mr. Conductor a kiss on the lips. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do. I love you too.” And just like that, all of Trix’s words and warnings were washed away in a tsunami of love. Tony would never hurt him, Mr. Conductor knew that.

After giving his boyfriend a few more kisses, Tony murmured, “Why don’t you get dressed while I clean the kitchen and make us some breakfast?”

“That sounds perfect.” After sharing one last kiss, Mr. Conductor left to their shared bedroom, the taste of Tony still fresh on his lips.

I could get used to this, Mr. Conductor thought.

Date nights with Tony were something to be treasured. They happened so rarely due to Tony’s busy schedule, and even then, being out in public was so tiring with all the judgmental stares and whispering.

But tonight, Mr. Conductor didn’t care. A small black box in his pocket, he had other things on his mind.

Tony had made reservations to their favorite restaurant, and they both wore their best tuxes. After ordering their dinners, Mr. Conductor carefully began to make conversation.

“So Tony,” he began. “What do you see yourself doing in the future?”

Tony looked surprised for a moment. “What do you mean, babe?”

“Well…any different careers that you’re thinking o-”

“Oh, no no no. I like my job. What’s this about?”

Mr. Conductor shook his head, already growing increasingly nervous with the direction that this conversation was going. “Tony, I’m not telling you to change jobs. I’m just wondering, do you want to do the same thing forever? You have options, you know. Your resume is flawless, anyone would hire Tony the Tiger.”

Tony smiled at that, but Mr. Conductor knew him for so long that he knew it was fake. Was something going on? No, no, Tony was probably just tired. It wouldn’t be surprising.

“I like my job, it’s what I’m good at.”

“You’re good at a lot of things, Tony, why-”

“Oh, food’s here!”

The moment that their plates touched the table, Tony’s mouth was filled with food. Mr. Conductor knew this tactic; he didn’t wanna talk, so he was going to make it impossible for him to talk. This was starting to really grate Mr. Conductor, but he decided that Tony won this round. If he pressed the subject then they’d just argue, and tonight was not a night that he wanted to argue. He felt the box in his pocket again, and his heart went warm with love. He smiled, remembering his main objective for tonight. With that, he began to eat.

Dinner was quiet, though as soon as Tony was finished eating, Mr. Conductor cleared his throat so that he would have Tony’s full attention.

“Tony…” he began. He had practiced in front of a mirror hundred of times; Mr. Conductor was ready. “… In about two weeks… Fifteen days to be exact… We’ll have been together for an entire year.”

“Yeah. Isn’t that something?” Tony made that same dopey, love struck grin that always tugged Mr. Conductor’s heartstrings in the right ways.

“It sure is.” One claw reached across to hold Tony’s paw, the other reaching for the box.

“Tony, I want to be with you for a long, long time…”

“Yeah?”

“…so I have to ask…”

He held up the box for Tony to see. It was now or never.

“Tony the Tiger, will y-”

“NO.”

“…”

Mr. Conductor didn’t know that it was possible for his heart to sink and to pump up into his throat at the same time.

Tony’s large outburst had attracted many others who were enjoying their dinners, and all eyes were on them. If Mr. Conductor wasn’t so shocked, he might’ve started crying right then and there.

Tony had an odd disturbed look in his eye as he rubbed his paws down his face. “Look. I- damn it. I’m sorry, Conductor. But…no. No no no. Not now. This is not good. At all. Why would you do this? Now? Ugh…”

They paid the check, drove home in the most awkward ride of their lives, and went to bed without another word. Mr. Conductor didn’t know how it could possibly get any worse than this.

Weeks had passed. Mr. Conductor had trouble sleeping that night.

He kept having this reoccurring nightmare where Tony was hunting him down, like the tigers in the movies did. Every time, Mr. Conductor would run, get caught, and wake up in a panic.

Tony had taken to sleeping on the couch, so every time Mr. Conductor had this nightmare, he would walk out to make sure that Tony was still there before trying to sleep again. He didn’t tell Tony; he was worried that he’d think that Mr. Conductor was making it up so that Tony would, oh, I don’t know, actually talk to him, instead of ignoring him like he did ever since the worst date of their lives.

Except tonight, Tony wasn’t there.

Nothing was there.

“Tony!” Mr. Conductor screamed. “Tony, we’ve been robbed!” He ran around in a panic, looking for Tony or even their robber. Drawers were opened, the kitchen was cleaner and clearer than it had ever been, the bedroom was picked dry…

…all except for one corner of the room.

All of Mr. Conductor’s things.

Confused, he approached the pile and saw a hastily scribbled note in what Mr. Conductor recognized as Tony’s handwriting.

I’m sorry. Gone forever. Can’t explain. Will understand one day. - Tony

The following morning, Mr. Conductor filed a missing person’s report.

The police came up with nothing, but he knew that they were hiding something, they had to!

Trix seemed to disappear as well, as did many other cereal mascots that Mr. Conductor was friends with. The ones who were still around either flat out ignored him or offered no information.

Days passed. Mr. Conductor was in deep denial, convinced that Tony was right there next to him. His mom made her weekly phone call, and this time, he picked up.

“It’s your destiny to become a conductor,” she had said. “It’s in your name, your history, your blood.” Later that day, his mom drove out to take him home. To where he truly belonged. To become a conductor.

“Ah… I’m sorry, I didn’t answer your question, did I? I must’ve zoned out…” Mr. Conductor rubbed his eye, only now realizing how hard he had been crying.

“Your question… Ah, yes, my opinion on frosted flakes…” He sniffled a little, and offered a small, sad smile before he answered.

“…they’re grrrrrrreat.”

ask-livingdead-prussia  asked:

((i hope this is okay?) A white husky wandered around until he saw Madeline and ran towards her. He stopped just before her and sat down, wagging his tail furiously. He has an iron cross around his neck, somewhat hidden under his fur.

((It’s perfect! ^.^)) 

Madeline had been gathering herbs in her garden when the dog ran up to her. Turning toward it, she let out a small laugh and reached a hand out to it. “Hello, doggy. And where did you come from?” She grinned.