fur-is-worse

anonymous asked:

How would you direct cats?

ok so the house lights stay on for the start of jellicle songs for jellicle cats and slowly go down as cats crawl out from behind the rubbish saying “are you blind when you’re born?” “can you see in the dark?” etc, and just as they’re building up to “jellicle song for jellicle cats” there’s a muffled gunshot and a blood curdling scream. suddenly the orchestra stops, the house lights come back on, and a detective bursts into the auditorium, flashing his badge and saying that everyone must stay where they are, for there has been a grisly murder. jennyanydots has been shot in her dressing room with a gun set on an automatic timer. to make matters worse, fur has been found on the gun, meaning one of the cats is responsible. and so begins an intense and heated debate among the cats as they try to find the murderer among them. each cat comes under suspicion at some point, and as they are scrutinised, dramatic secrets are revealed. grizabella is having an affair old deuteronomy. the run tum tugger sexually manipulates audience regulars for online attention. family man mister mistoffelees is gay. none of this is a performance. eventually, the cats figure out that the real murderer is the detective. the detective is me. but as soon as they realise this, they see that I am long gone. in fact, I was in cahoots with jennyanydots, who is the best cat and was never actually murdered, and who was played in this production by jane houdyshell, the whole time. by now, me and jane are probably at the airport on our way to cuba, with the cats investment money bursting out of our two suitcases. it’s only a matter of time before the cast of cats find jennyanydots’ empty cat suit in her dressing room, and realise they’ve been had. but with the distrust and suspicion sewn among the cats cast, there will surely never be a production of cats again. and that’s it. I’ll have defeated cats.

phoenixfalls  asked:

A prompt! Etta Candy/Diana Prince, bed-sharing.

(Also on AO3.)

“Oh!” Etta says, coming to a sudden stop on the threshold of the room they rented for the night. There’s only one bed. That's… That’s not good.

She turns to go back downstairs, but thinks better of it almost immediately: Etta is better than this. She all but ran Britain’s War Ministry during the Great War; she faced down foreign agents with a sword; she was the personal secretary, however unwittingly, to a god. And Miss Diana Prince, Princess of Themyscira, chose her, Etta Candy, as her traveling companion! Etta will not be intimidated by a mere bed.

She squares her shoulders, turns back–

And stops again, because really, no, sharing a bed with Diana is just too much. Discretion and valour and all that. She pivots on her heel to retreat, but–

“Oh!” she exclaims again, because Diana has come up close behind her, and now Etta is face-to-face with her breasts. Well, not really face-to-face, more face-to-fur, but that is even worse, because now Etta is thinking about fur muffs and the last time she was face-first–

She pivots sharply on her heel again, and there is the bed.

This is the way Etta is going to die: trapped between a bed and Diana Prince’s breasts.

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anonymous asked:

Vampire and Werewolf boyfriends on a date in the wood fic pls

“Oh that’s- don’t- honestly can’t you stay still for a minute?”

Close as they are he notices now the reflexive click of his tongue against his teeth, the tip of a fang slipping over his violet-tinted lower lip to worry at the softer flesh it finds there. He’s got his hands buried in his scruff, rings snagging the fur worse than any refuse of the forest. The owner of said fur gives a soft whuf of amusement and shakes himself free. Dry leaves and chestnuts fall from his pelt.

“Don’t be such a mother hen.” But he snaps his head up and drags a flat pink tongue over a cheek that’s been left foolishly open to attack, grimaces when he tastes the makeup. Why does he still bother with all that crap? It’s not like there’s anyone out here to see. Which is good since he’s now lapped a noticeable stripe across his face, revealing the lifeless pallor beneath, silvery pale as moonlight on the lake.

“You’re going to get ticks,” the man huffs, dabbing his damp cheek with his sleeve. “I’m the only bloodsucker who gets to taste you.”

He barks a laugh, quite literally. Even at this range the self-named bloodsucker doesn’t have much of a scent, not enough to overpower the pine and petrichor, but when vampires start to get hungry they take on a similar smell to a werewolf who’s about to shift under the face of the full moon, so he knows he’s not entirely joking.

“Buy me dinner first and I’ll think about it.”

His good eye is gleaming with a gaze that can’t help but be cold. It’s not his fault. Inside he is a red autumn, a paper wasp wing. He smiles. “We’re not going anywhere until you clean yourself up, thank you.”

The leaves above them are turning, but there are still nights left before the long, lonely stretch of winter, so he nods a head turned less hairy, though not very, and they go.

Operation: Cooperation

The diplomat had spent the entire trip talking. Which in it of itself was tolerable, but the part that grated on Teemo’s nerves was that he spent hours talking about nothing. He supposed it was simply a side effect of the man being a politician, or possibly what had lead him to the career in the first place, but either why, after 16 hours of constant meaningless prattle Teemo was beginning to seriously question some of his life choices. When Bilgewater finally came into view from the road the Scout let out a relieved sigh and leaned his forehead against carriage window. 

“Excited? I am too Captian! This is such an important opportunity for—” Teemo gave him a cheery smile, then tuned him out and turned back to the window. Finally the carriage pulled into the city and stopped in front of the appointed meeting place.

 It took a great deal of self-control for Teemo to get out without seeming as if he was trying to escape. At this rate he almost hoped that the meeting would fall through and that he’d have an excuse to let the diplomat get killed and be done with him. But unfortunately that would be both unprofessional and a violation of the Scout’s Code, so instead he stepped out onto the street calmly and checked to make sure the area was secure before he waved for the diplomat to follow him.

There was a soldier that leaned idly against the door frame of the main entrance to the building, but she straightened up as if she had been hit by a whip the second she caught sight of them. She made a stiff little bow, just low enough to show the obligatory respect required for the situation and not an inch more.

 The Diplomat greeted the woman cheerfully and Teemo smiled when he saw the immediate and obvious dislike that she showed for the moron. She opened the door hurriedly, probably wanting to escape as much as the Scout did, and motioned for them to enter. The Captain gave her a mild nod as he walked passed, which she returned with a hint of sympathy before following them inside.

The place was old, wooden, and damp; with a constant drip (multiple) that made the Scout’s ears twitch in the direction of each individual sound. The jungle was damp of course, but it wasn’t damp and cold, but in Bilgewater; both were a constant. After only 15 minutes of being there Teemo was tempted to shake the moisture from his fur, but that would also be unprofessional of him, so he ignored the cold-and-wet-fur sensation. He’d been in worse anyway.

The soldier loped passed him in the wide corridor and lead them toward the appointed meeting location. Teemo memorized the winding path easily, but the diplomat complained about how long the route was. They had walked down six different, twisting, halls when the the soldier finally came to a stop in front of a thick wooden door. She bowed again, opened it, and gestured them inside. 

Much to Captain Teemo’s annoyance, the diplomat rushed ahead of him excitedly and he was forced to grab the man by the scruff and physically pull him back out into the hall so that he could clear the room first. The diplomat huffed at his escort, who replied with an especially cheerful smile and then went back to ignoring him as much as he possibly could. 

Once he was satisfied that the location was secure, Teemo moved out of the way and let the diplomat walk past him to greet the small group of Noxians that were their hosts and potential trading partners as he followed behind lazily.


(( @thefist-of-noxus))

((Hooray! Another overly-long starter from your’s truly!))

Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 1/?]

Summary: Gavin stays home sick after falling ill suddenly, but he’s not sick; He’s earned his training wings. Bizarre things are begining to happen in the Rooster Teeth office…

Rating: Teen

Characters: Basically everyone

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[Ao3]

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Ambassador Eunectes

Nomarch of the Glades and fifth to hold the title ‘Eunectes’, this stupendous serpent rules the lives of millions with an iron coil. Despite her relatively bloodless rise to power in a society that demands shows of strength, none have challenged her rule in all her 60 year tenure. Visiting Zootopian journalists suspect that her fabulous wealth and skill as a negotiator is responsible for this unprecedented feat, while local writers quietly note that many of her detractors have been known to mysteriously disappear.

A savvy, suspicious snake, Eunectes sees more than she lets on. Friends and enemies alike who underestimate this massive ophidian would do well to remember that anacondas are ambush predators; watching and waiting, patiently and without mercy, for the right moment to strike.


One of the main characters of the Swinton side-fic! Had a good time experimenting with art styles on the beautiful and cold-blooded giant anaconda Eunectes. And her story continues in Pearls Before Swine chapter 3! There’s more under the cut!


Swinton sat at her custom-made mahogany desk, watching her computer screen intently. She tapped her fingers happily on the shiny, near-mirror finish of the dense, hard wood inlaid with gold leaf; she loved watching her various accounts swell with Reptilian revenue. Even though the currency had to be laundered somewhat before it got to her, Herpetopian dinars raised a few eyebrows unless they were spread to the right pockets. Not that she needed to worry about any of that, she had set up that whole kit and kaboodle years ago, and there was no way anyone would sniff it out. Not without her knowing, anyway.

There was a thump at the door, Swinton’s eyebrow arched at the muffled “…Ow,” that followed.

“A twenty pound rabbit vs a two-hundred pound ironwood door.” She smirked . “It’s open, come in.”

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@ivrymemories

Well, Namine supposed she had this coming when she decided to undergo magic training and practice at home. She couldn’t even honestly remember what spell she was trying to cast, but what iturned into was a cloud of smoke, her passing out, and waking up in the body of a month old kitten. Granted she was a pretty kitten, with beautiful blue eyes and soft white fur, but to make matters worse she was on a completely different world. It was so, big…everything was so big! She was so scared, she wanted to cry out! “Mew! Mew! Mew!” A terrified meow, though sweet as sugar in sound, until a lady came up to her. The woman was very pretty, like one of the princesses of heart! Her voice was kind, still the little kitten Namine was scared. She did however appreciate the chin rub. To her new animal form it felt good, and so with tiny claws she began to climb up the woman’s skirt mewing. [Please take me somewhere safe! I don’t know where I am and you’re the first person to show me kindness here!] When she was up high enough she simply clung to her and began to nuzzle her head against the kind woman.

Giselle pouted slightly, lifting the kitten up into her arms.  She was much friendlier than some of the other ones she’d found.  “In Andalasia, I’d be able to understand you,” she sighed.  She loved her new life here in New York, with Robert and Morgan and all her new friends, but she missed speaking with her animal friends. “But it’s okay.  You’re safe now.  I’ve got some milk inside, and I know Morgan will be happy to have a kitten in the house!”  As she spoke, she brought the little animal inside the apartment building, taking her into the magic box that opened up in front of the apartment she shared with her new family.

Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 12/?]

Summary: Gavin freaks out and takes off.

Rating: Teen

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[Ao3]

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bottledbronytears  asked:

Hi! I'm a one fandom kinda gal, so while I've been watching RT vids since '11 I never bothered to look into the fandom or its fic. I recently got smacked in the face with an amazing fic by Emono and decided why the hell not? I was wondering if you have any blog recommendations? Any authors I should look up? I'm a multi-shipper so I'm down for anything. :)

sweetheart, you came to the right place. <3

now, this is gonna get pretty long so i’m putting it under a read more. Below, i’ve listed some of my favorite fics, references, authors, series, etc. 

…… i read a lot of fics…..

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Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 4/?]

Summary: Ryan doesn’t enjoy his animal as much as Geoff does.

Rating: Teen

Characters: Everyone

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[Ao3]

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Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 14/?]

Summary: Gavin can’t reach those feathers.

Rating: Teen

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[Ao3]

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Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 7/?]

Summary: REWIND! A look back to when the guys took Gavin to work to have a company meeting.

Rating: Teen

Characters: Everyone

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[Ao3]

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Fur Feather or Fur Worse [Chapter 15 - FINAL CHAPTER]

Summary: Ray doesn’t want to go to work, not today.

Rating: Teen

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter]

Notes: I know, I don’t want it to end either, but all good things must!! I love everyone who read this, and you will definitely see more work in the future <3 And what better note to end on then Bunny Ray?

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