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#things scritch does
dustykneed · 28 days
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hey dusty I'm here to push my Spock purring agenda on you. thoughts?
of course <33 he's the og catboy. now for a transporter malfunction so they all purr:
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i like to think jim is DEEP in that cat brain (not because the transporter malfunctioned any differently for him as opposed to bones. but because he is just Like That honestly). bones is the sort of... almost humanly intelligent flavor of cat. except he retains his 24/7 anxiety and jumps three feet every time someone sneezes too suddenly. and jim knocks shit off spock's counter all the fucking time so bones just eats shit all the fucking time lmfao
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Okay so im not sure if yk helluva bods but basically a couple in it (fizz and Asmodeus) always rub their faces with one another to show affection because fizz’s body is all robotic aside from his face(from an explosion) and i got a moth idea from this
now because FL is a war transformation, one that’s sole purpose is to fight; his body is covered all in armor. but not exactly “covered”, more like made of armor
but there is one place that isnt just pure armor, and that he can actually feel;
his face area. his hair, the fluff around his neck, and the mask. the mask is like practically connected to his face but he can feel the sides, and he can indirectly feel the mask
imagine reader learning he cant really feel rest of his body (he can feel touch n stuff but not actual warmth so its not like skin to skin contact) and then constantly holding his face, rubbing it, and kissing it after finding it out.
ooh i've heard of that show (it is a show right) but haven't seen it- this sounds absolutely ADORABLE THOUGH
i imagine that before Foul Legacy met you, he didn't even know that he could feel sensations in his face- he thought it'd be as disconnected as the rest of his armored body was. it wasn't until you gave him his first kiss that he found out, your lips leaving a small spot of warmth on his forehead and prompting him to nudge his head against your hands, almost crying from the sensation of your soft skin. Legacy absolutely melts whenever you cup his cheeks, his crystalline eye slipping shut as he purrs- it's a surefire way to help him calm down and spend the next few hours snuggling with his face nestled in the crook of your neck
he'll also do his best to reciprocate the affection, delicately brushing your cheeks with his claws and pressing his forehead against yours, always using utmost care. you're fragile, after all- or at least, more fragile than he is! he's made to maim and kill, yet all he desires is to hold you close, cradling you in his arms. luckily you adore showering him with attention, constantly peppering kisses on his face and massaging his plated cheeks with your thumbs, watching his glittering wings flutter happily. he makes his fur extra fluffy just for you!! since you always take the time to brush out any tangles and give him good scritches, he might as well enjoy it <33
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coconurt · 2 months
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i hate this i hate everything i hate being alone
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whatudottu · 2 years
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AU where the Omnitrix is a bona fide Creatuer™ and it’s difficulty to be replicated stems from it being the first galvan wetware (machine using largely organic materials) symbiote, and it being the first stems from the galvan prejudice of machines outside of the ‘standard’ circuits and wires. I mean afterall, they managed (even if accidentally) created an entire living species that is made entirely of metal and nanites, why get their hands dirty even if they’re clearly smart enough to work in meat tech.
Azmuth probably isolated himself on Xenon for that reason if i make it make sense and turn Ascalon into a powerfully enchanted weapon (Mutants and Magic) instead of a piece of galvan tech in the shape of a sword, because even if the Omnitrix is one of/the greatest piece of tech in this dimension- galvan as clever and intuitive as they are are still beholden to their own beliefs (if all galvan were perfect then Albedo wouldn’t need so much therapy).
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wereh0gz · 1 year
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I looked up hedgehog sounds because why not and all I can think about is sonic doing them
Specifically werehog sonic doing them
Idk the idea of this giant furry monster with razor sharp teeth and claws and super strength making these cute little squeaky noises when he's happy is both adorable and hilarious to me
Also hedgehog noses twitch a lot. Imagine his nose twitching when he sniffs something. Also him sniffing things more in general. He's a curious little guy and wants to know what something is before he bites into it and breaks it
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lilnasxvevo · 1 year
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It would be very funny if Liu Qingge got “Ranma 1/2ed” because you KNOW that guy is a cold baths/cold showers only type of guy and having to choose between turning into a liddol kitty cat whenever he bathes or bathing in hot water like some kind of DECADENT would piss him off so much
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gongedtornado · 2 months
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#can i rant abt something random for a second#i hate when people will comment on other videos of animals-#taking big cats in a sanctuary for example-#i love when the person in the video is touching the animal/giving it scritches and the specified big cat LOVES it#(cat body language)#and then people continuously comment ‘just wait til it turns your back on you’ or smth along those lines#IT DRIVES ME UP THE WALLS#people do the same thing on domestic fox videos#and its *insane* to me because its almost like these people are wishing for the owner/caretakers to get hurt by their animals??#like for one thing- cats have such unique body language and behavior#and if youre paying attention to it- you can understand them a lot better#i saw a video of a lady brushing out a siberian lynx (he was a rescue from a fur farm)#and some of the comments were just nasty#like- his tails not wagging for one / hes not growling / hes letting her touch and kiss and scratch him#at some point he does bite but its a playful bite and he ends up enjoying scritches from the camera person#leaning into it and closing his eyes n shit . he was ENJOYING THAT SCRITCH#‘that giant lynx may eat her face’ ‘she’ll learn her lesson one day’ oh my god shut upppp#literally any animal is capable of that. its only just because hes not a common household animal#ONCE AGAIN MENTIONING- THE LYNX WAS A RESCUE FROM A FUR FARM.#i should also mention he imprinted on humans. his name is marsel iirc#i dunno it just drives me up the walls when people say some of the nastiest shit like that#kazzy caws
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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1fur1 Price part 2
(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)
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The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.
Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…
Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.
He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.
You appreciate the help.
It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.
Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.
Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.
“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”
You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.
Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.
“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”
He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.
“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”
You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.
“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.
You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.
“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.
You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.
“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.
With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.
“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”
A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.
“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”
Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.
So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.
You’re being minded.
It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.
“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”
And work he does.
If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.
And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.
There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.
It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.
“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”
Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.
“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”
A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.
“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.
Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.
“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.
All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.
“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”
Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.
“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”
You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.
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hedgehog-moss · 6 months
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Look at the delicious sushi for llamas I made today:
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It's courgette stuffed with deworming paste and thanks to Poldine my plan went swimmingly. Pampelune is sometimes distrustful on deworming day, but when they saw Poldine get a treat then try to steal the other treats which were obviously meant for them, the other animals hurried to claim their own medicinal courgette as well.
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Except Pampe. (How many times have I written these words.) She looked at her sushi, looked at me, sniffed every side of the courgette, decided it smelled like deceit, and walked away.
I felt daft for not going the muesli route straight away. Like all great tricksters Pampérigouste is suspicious by nature but she can't resist muesli. So I un-stuffed the courgette and used the sticky deworming paste to fashion a little muesli ball.
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It was gooey and not very appetising but it's muesli, right? I camouflaged the muesli ball in a dish of innocent muesli and offered it to Pampe, but unfortunately she was now very aware that I was up to something. Instead of mindlessly vacuuming the contents of the muesli dish as she usually does, she examined the strange slimy little ball, pushed it away with her nose with obvious contempt, then ate the normal muesli. I tried (with increasing insistence and frustration) to convince her to eat the damn muesli ball, but no.
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New idea: I went to the kitchen to get some pumpkin rinds, and squished the muesli ball between two small pieces of pumpkin skin like a Choco BN (if you're from the US, picture an orange worm-killing Oreo). Pampe likes pumpkin skin! I tried to explain to her that she would be punishing only herself if she refused the (admittedly deceitful) offering out of principle.
Somehow she managed to eat the outside 'biscuits' and spit out the stuffing.
At this point I had to shame her. (I told her to look ashamed for this photo; not sure she understood the assignment)
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I had exhausted my creativity and had nothing left but the mean method. I got Pampe in llama jail, aka the school room where I spent many hours trying to teach her to wear a halter and be a good docile llama when she was little, while she spent many hours trying to escape by any conceivable means—high jumps, bribery, tunnels, you name it.
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(In the background behind Poldine you can see the bag of hay that I used to get the llamas to follow me into the corral. Pampe naively thought I had given up on trying to make her eat gross slimy things and was about to give her a normal meal)
She tried a strange kind of escape this time around, which honestly might have worked if she were a swift salmon returning to her natal river to spawn, slicing against the current in a series of graceful, forward-arching curves. But she's a llama. It's like she forgot she wasn't all neck and also had a body that needed to clear this obstacle.
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I sang her a little song to soothe her, and scritched her face, and managed to get a llama kiss which is more affection than I've ever received from a currently-jailed Pampe—her daughter really is a good influence on her!
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So of course I took advantage of this moment of calm and trust to stick my hidden secret syringe in the corner of her mouth and push 2cm of deworming paste onto her tongue.
She was VEXED and WROTH.
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We were talking about learning poetry by heart the other day; well, if Pampérigouste did that, "I am rowing (a hex poem)" is the poem she would have invoked in that moment.
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After I left, all the other animals hurried into the corral to eat the hay I had used to get Pampe in, while Pampe turned her back on the meal and walked away a strategic distance, far enough to show me that she felt betrayed and would never eat any food I bring her ever again, not so far that she couldn't go back in and fight the donkey for what was left of the hay as soon as I stopped looking.
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lxvvie · 2 months
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I adore those free use Simon asks where he thinks the reader wants to fuck him but they just cuddle him instead. Those are just amazing. Now let me turn the tables: The reader’s lying on the couch, scrolling on their phone when Simon spreads their legs apart and hooks their thighs over his shoulders. The reader thinks he’s going to pull down their joggers next but instead he puts his head on their lower stomach with a big sigh. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Does he want them to scratch his scalp? Yeah? Cool, no problem.
Okay, let's talk about it, anon!
It's moments like these where Simon reminds you of a cat. A big, grumpy cat. You ask him if he's okay, and he grunts in Ghost which you interpret as, "Yes. And no. Love me." Sure thing, Si.
One of your hands is lazily scratching his scalp while the other is busy with your phone. You feel Simon shift slightly and a big paw of his comes up and gently takes the phone out of your hand because he wants scritches and attention. Your full attention. On him.
Love him. Please.
And so you do. One hand giving scritches. Another intertwined with his.
He's living the life.
Until you stop. At which point he grunts in Ghost again lmao.
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ju1cyfru1t · 9 months
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no thoughts only rise donnie being soft for his s/o 😭😭😭
any soft/affectionate donnie hcs please 🤲
HEHEHEHEHHEHEEEHEHHEHWHWHH
Rise! Donatello x reader
Soft Donnie hcs 🥹
fluff:D gn reader, romantic
not proofread
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My baby :(
- Donnie makes you gifts all the time! It’s one of his ways of saying he loves you since he’s not too experienced with this whole feelings stuff. He also just loves to see you get excited over something that he made.
- will help fix the little things for you! (that maybe he wouldn’t do for others djjdjdkdkd) Your computer isn’t working? Give him 5 minutes and it’s working just fine. Leo’s phone is bugging? He can wait, Donnie is a busy man after all.
- Someone knocks over his staff?! …oh it was you? well, accidents happen I suppose.
- Will absolutely brag about anything he helps you with, it makes him feel good. You could have asked someone else, but you asked him. Not Raph, not Mikey, and why the hell would you ask Leo? (JK I LOVE HIM😭)
- Does NOT let his brothers (mostly Leo) drag you into their tomfoolery if it’s dangerous. (Long story; you got portal-ed to New Jersey one time *COUGH*LEO*COUGH*)
- Fairly confident, he knows you love him and he loves you. Heartfelt and vulnerable moments just aren’t his thing, so when they do happen you know he really means it because he’s doing it just for you.
- you have your very own special seat in the turtle tank <3
- definitely the type to remember all of your favorite things (snacks, drinks, movies, anything)
- you’re basically Shelldon’s other parent and he treats you as such. -> “Do not talk to your mother that way, young man! I mean, uh, Y/N! don’t tal- HOLD ON-“
- will talk to you for hours and hours about new projects he’s started or wants to start and is really, really excited that you care about his interests. (Two reallys)
- would NEVER admit it to anyone but really likes to hold you entirely or just your hand, especially while he talks to you ^lectures
- probably needs a few visits with Dr.Feelings (Mikey thinks you guys are so cute)
- would kick his brothers out and only allows you in his lab if he’s really busy and into working on something. would gladly let you assist him if you pinky promise to be really careful, but doesn’t trust anyone else around his precious tech.
- sitting in his lap??? while he works??? I think so.
- Wants to watch all of his favorite Jupiter Jim movies with you! + Would show you all of his favorite games and comics. Might even actually let you borrow one or two if you swear they will return to him in mint condition.
- 100% denies it if anyone (fucking LEO) were to ever point out your special privileges even though he knows it’s true and you most definitely do. He just wants to avoid the teasing if he can.
- But it’s inevitable (*COUGH*LEO)
- it’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just isn’t used to that kind of relationship and he really appreciates your understanding, even if he doesn’t say it.
- when you cuddle he likes to lay his head on your chest, it’s the most comfortable for him. esp if you give VERY gentle shell scritches
- I REPEAT, GIFT GIVING. TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIS GIFTS, HE MELTS.
- hide all of your purple clothing bro
-“your sweater? the gorgeous, perfect, dazzling purple one? …haven’t seen it.”
- would call you “darling” or “dear/dearest” when he feels like it
- overall, very whipped 👍 very sweet silly boy :(
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monkey-wrench-zeurel · 4 months
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One month on; The future of Monkey wrench as a fully animated indie series.
It’s been exactly one month since Ep 3 of Monkey was released to the public, and as the ever want to be as transparent as possible with indie production it’s time we sat down and had a very important discussion on the future of the series…
So, as we said above, one month has passed from the public release of episode 3, and everything hinges on how well it does.
Below are the metrics for it on Youtube;
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Our hope was to have ep 3 hit 500k in two weeks. After 31 days we’re still under 470k views, ad rev as you can see is pitiful and engagement has evaporated. Maybe we set our hopes a little too high?
It’s not all doom and gloom though, this is the first ep to get this many views in this amount of time. Our patreon support has grown by 1/3 after the ep came out and our Scratch & Scritch plushies did ok, see images below;
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So as of now, we have enough money for voices, sound and music for episode 4. Voice recording begins next week and I hope to start the animatic for the ep sometime after.
As for the animation portion of production… things are looking a little tricky.
As you should know, animation, especially frame by frame stuff like we do, it’s obscenely time intensive and expensive. For ep 3 we had a rough animation rate of $20.83 per 1 second of animation and the same for clean up with very minimal edits and redos.
Seeing the recent animation pay discourse has honestly shaken us up pretty bad, we had no idea how pitiful our pay had been compared to other indies and we in no way want to exploit anyone for their work on the series.
With both Ash and I putting everything we had saved in Eps 1, 2 and 3 and seeing how below average they’ve all performed and with how little we can afford to pay our animators, on top of burning myself out horrifically doing 3 eps in a row, we’ve sadly had to come to the conclusion that full animation for this series is no longer financially possible at our current support level.
That does not mean we’re stopping production, however.
There are two possible routes we can take;
Route 1; Animatic hybrid.
Over the past week and a half I managed to solo out 5 minutes and 15 seconds of animatic keyframe animation for our recently released outtakes video.
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At our current support level I can do the animatic keyframe route for most of the mundane stuff in an ep, and then go into full animation for the ‘good bits’, that way we can pay our animators an actual decent wage. Over time if our support grows we can return to full animation.
Route 2: Kickstart ep 4 for $100k
We have thought about doing a kickstarter type thing to get the $100,000 we’d need for the animation portion of the ep. We want to pay our animators properly for their time and skill and this would be the best route to go if we want to have ep 4 fully animated.
However with our current viewership and engagement with eps 1, 2 and 3 I’m not sure we could hit a goal of $100,000 in the 30 days we need.
Is it a risk worth taking?
What would we do for rewards?
Physical rewards would take money away from animation production and things like animated rewards would take time away from myself working on the ep.
That’s pretty much where my mind has been at the past few days. I’d love to hear your input and thoughts on how you would like us to proceed.
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redwinterroses · 8 months
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It's not like it's hard to get Tango taking about Decked Out, but buy him a couple of potions in the museum speakeasy and he gets downright confessional.
Grian leans across the stat poker table, his wings rustling eagerly. "Truth or dare, Tango," he says. "Is Decked Out... alive?"
“Aren’t I supposed to pick truth or dare before you ask the question?” Tango tosses back another potion and gives the group a half-smirk.
“We all know you’re going to pick truth because you’re too particled to get up.” Etho’s face is obscured, but they can hear the laugh in his voice and see his fox ears twitch with amusement. “So spill.”
Tango shrugs. "Well," he says, "It's not exactly not NOT alive, if you know what I mean."
Grian glances at Doc on his right and Etho on his left. They shrug at him.
"Yeah, no," he says, looking back at Tango. "I don't think we know what that means."
"Is it like that Grumbot robot that Mumbo and Grian built?" Doc asks, scratching thoughtfully at his chin, his blunt black claws scritching loudly against the stubble of his beard. Grian tries to catch a peek at his stat tokens and gives a sheepish grin when Doc notices and quickly angles them away.
"Hey, now," Doc starts to say, but Tango interrupts.
"Nah, no -- I mean, Grumbot was pretty... Simple. No offense."
"None taken." Grian pulls a token from his stack. "Number of villagers traded with," he offers. "And I'll up the ante to three diamond blocks, gentlemen."
Tango lays down his own token, and taps a finger on it in an aimless rhythm. “The dungeon is… aware,” he says. “Not alive, I guess, but it knows things. It recognizes people.”
“I’ve noticed,” Etho says dryly. “That place hates me.”
They all laugh, but Tango shakes his head. “Does it hate you?” he asks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Or does it want to impress you?”
“Oh, I’m impressed enough.” Etho drops his stat token on the table with a soft click. “So it can stop glitching and trying to kill me now.”
“Aww, you’re just playing hard to get.”
Doc lays his tokens down on the table and stands. “I will sit out this round, I think,” he says. “I have done almost nothing with villagers this season. Will anyone have more to drink?”
“I’m not playing hard to get!” Etho protested, ears lying flat. “If anything, I’m playing easy to get – I just walk right in there!”
“You heard it first here, folks,” Tango says. “Etho’s easy.”
He ducks, but not in time to dodge the rolled-up napkin Etho chucks at his face. It lands in his hair and goes up in a miniature whump of flame.
Grian snickers, waving away smoke.
“So if the dungeon’s not alive, but it’s not quite not alive,” he says. “How does one maybe go about… making friends with it?”
“That,” Doc says, thunking a fresh bottle of Cub’s custom-mixed potion onto the table. “Is cheating, you pesky bird. No flirting with the possibly-not-not-alive dungeon.”
“You’re telling me you’re above flirting for a few extra keys and crowns, Doc?” Tango asks with teasing skepticism.
Doc sniffs, flipping the cork from his bottle with his thumb. “I don’t need flirting,” he says dismissively. “I have skills. Game strategies, man.”
“He’s already planning how to get the dungeon’s attention.” Etho flips his token over, exposing the total. “Aren’t’cha, Doc.”
Doc tips back his drink and shrugged. “Eh… that is for me to know, and you to worry about.” He winks.
“Tango, what’s your total there?” Grian fiddles with his token.
“Well, I know it’s higher than old three-digit Minecraft master over here.” Tango holds up his token and pinches it between his fingers. “Under three hundred, Etho? What’ve you been doing all season?”
“Not hiding out in a hole for thirteen months,” Etho grumbles good-naturedly, pushing his diamonds into the center of the table.
“Yeah, well, that’s what I have been doing and look at that stat.” Tango displays the count. “Seven k, baby – read ‘em and weep.”
Grian makes an exaggerated sad face that immediately morphs into a triumphant grin. “Rookie numbers, fellas,” he crows. “Try over twelve thousand.”
Tango groans and rolls his diamonds toward Grian with a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely not telling you how to flimflam my dungeon, you shyster.”
“Tango, I’m hurt.” Grian, entirely unbothered and very un-hurt looking, scoops the pile of diamonds into his pouch. “My stats are all ethically earned.”
“And that’s how your dungeon runs will be too.” Tango stashes his tokens and stands. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Mostly.”
“Back to your cave, Tango?” Etho doesn’t stand, but his bushy white tail wags a little in barely-contained excitement. “So, Decked Out will be open again… soon?”
“You bet your foxy good looks,” Tango says. “Or… maybe don’t. Not with those stats.”
This time he does duck the thrown napkin.
He exits through the museum, the laughter of his friends fading behind him as he steps out into the cool afternoon air. For a moment, he stretches, shaking out his elytra and clearing his head a bit of the potion particles.
Is Decked Out alive?
Tango grins, sharp teeth glinting. Of course the dungeon’s alive, who’s he kidding? And she’s hungry, too, he can feel it even from here. His friends should just be grateful he’s only ever built friendly monsters that want to devour them.
“On my way,” he mutters to himself. Or the dungeon. “And Etho’ll be coming over soon too.”
He feels the dungeon’s excitement.
“Oh…you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tango launches himself in the air and spirals over the shopping district, angling toward Decked Out and laughing so loudly the sound bounces off the buildings below.
His dungeon totally has a crush on Etho.
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dawn-moths · 9 months
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Turquoise & Temptations
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Neuvillette x Female Reader
word count: 2600+
(Being the girl of Fontaine’s Chief Justice has its ups and downs, but one thing is for certain— the time you two spend together in Neuvillette’s office at the end of a long workday, whether he’s filing some last minute paperwork or simply taking a moment of peace and quiet before heading home, always has the opportunity to get interesting…)
disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, semi-public sex (you’re in his office but the door’s not locked), size difference, daddy kink, mention of punishment with no actual punishment, reader is called “sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby”, minimal prep, some aftercare.
*ao3 mirror*
***
You shifted your position sitting in Neuvillette’s lap, straddling him with the skirts of your dress bunched up and your lace-clad core pressed against where his own growing arousal had begun to jut from his pants, trying to be sly in grinding your needy sex harder down against him, as if he’d even have a chance to miss it.
You’ve been like this for a while now— cradled against his chest and nearly dozing off while he finishes up some last minute paperwork at his desk, lashes fluttering with oncoming sleep, lips slightly parted as your breathing began to grow slow and shallow— but it was technically his fault for getting you so worked up in the first place.
He’d started it, after all, causing you to jolt back to consciousness when you felt his cock twitch in his trousers as your weight had settled overtop his lap with just enough pressure to stir something a little less professional in him.
He clicks his tongue at you, but it’s not with annoyance. It’s with that condescending adoration that tends to weave through his tone whenever you get impatient, unable to let him finish his work before distracting him with your body and the fantasy of all the ways he wants to have you.
Because, while he may have been guilty of starting things, you were far more guilty of instigating, hiking your dress up higher to allow you more room to spread your thighs wider over his own, rocking forward and arching your back a bit until you found just the right place to satisfy your own needs.
At least, they’d be satisfied for a little while. You both knew before long you’d grow needy and demand more for him, tearing the Chief Justice from his more official duties and encouraging him to engage in some more personal affairs.
“Daddy’s almost done, sweetheart,” he cooed, one hand wielding a shiny gold fountain pen and scribbling off his tight-scrawled, looping signature on the dotted line while the other rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place, as if you had any intention of trying to leave. “Just be patient for a little while longer and then I’ll—”
His promise was cut off by a strangled whine caught in his throat, not missing the devious way your gloss-shined lips were curving into a defiant little smirk. His stunning gunmetal gaze leveled on you, his next signature left abandoned halfway through on the parchment as he held your stare, testing you now, daring you to keep going before he gave you permission.
If you did, he might just have to punish you, bend you over his desk and fuck you fast and hard till there were tears in those pretty little doe-eyes of yours, forcing you to keep quiet with a big, leather gloved hand clasped over your open mouth, biting back his own moans the best he could until he felt like you’d learned your lesson.
You seemed to foresee this possibility, so you kept still, your throat bobbing with a hard, anticipatory swallow, your pussy throbbing at the thought of it, and waiting for Neuvillette to resume his writing. He cleared his throat and concluded his signature, dotting the i and crossing the double t’s a little more aggressively than he had previously, the quick tap and scritch of the pen’s sharp nib marking the page in ebony ink making you flinch a tiny bit.
You thought he was finally finished when he gathered up the thick stack of papers in both hands and shuffled them on the surface of the marble desk, smoothing them all in perfect order before tying them with a piece of cobalt twine and sealing the documents with a wax stamp of shimmering silver, ready to be picked up and sent off to wherever it was the court transcripts went once he was done with them, but then he seemed to begin with a whole new stack, this one even taller and wordier than the last, so you couldn’t help but huff out a breath of blatant indignance. 
Neuvillette hummed out a low, lilting chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours as you pressed yourself closer to him, tugging at the lapels of his coat and whimpering in protest. “Don’t worry, princess…” he assured you. “I’m just getting things in order for tomorrow.”
“And how long will that take…?” you muttered under your breath, thinking you might act out and risk the consequences depending on his answer.
But then you felt both of his gloved hands on you, long fingers flexing where they held your hips, sending a momentary confusion through you when he seemed to be pulling you down harder against him rather than shifting you away for your backtalk.
“Tell you what,” he began, his voice, normally so authoritative and commanding in the courtroom, turned honey-sweet and soothing when it came to you, even when you were insisting on being a little bit of a needy brat. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work—” He held up a finger to signal silence as your mouth fell open in premature protest. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work,” he repeated, pausing for a second and raising his eyebrows slightly, challenging you to try and interrupt again, “and I’ll let you have your way until I’m done.”
You cocked your head at him, eyes narrowed and mouth twitching into a crooked frown of pondering, wondering if this was some kind of test or not. Then it was his turn to catch you off guard, rocking his hips up into yours and causing you to emit a stuttering gasp as you felt just how hard his length had become, your eyes fluttering and beginning to roll from the sudden jolt of pleasure, your body surging with the need for more, more more, sheer, unadulterated want racing through your blood like sparks of white-hot electricity.
“Go on…” he smugly directed you, his eyes flicking from your face down to where your two bodies sought each other out and back again. Then, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear, his lips barely brushing the shell of it and causing a gentle shudder to skitter up your spine, he teasingly murmured, “Just be sure not to make too much noise. I’m pretty sure I left the door unlocked and, well…”
And, well, if anyone heard your high-pitched moans muffled from the other side of the double doors, they might creep up closer to investigate, maybe even dare to enter after giving the customary knock of courtesy and find you in a state you’d be mortified for anyone besides Neuvillette to see you in.
“I’ll be quiet,” you muttered back, unable to hide the excitement that was flooding your chest more and more by the second, your eager little fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the gentle clink of the silver against your freshly manicured nails— this week a shade of pale turquoise— echoing quietly throughout the spacious office room until finally you were able to tug the leather strap free so it could dangle from the sides of the loops in his pristinely pressed trousers.
Pristine, of course, except for the damp spot left on his crotch, both of your intermingled arousal staining through to ruin his expensive work attire.
That was alright with Neuvillette though. Whether it was his clothes or your own that got ruined during these acts, he could always just buy more. To him, a constantly updated wardrobe was a small price to pay for how good it felt when he was inside you, suddenly wishing he’d decided to leave early that day so you two could finish this in your shared master bedroom of his estate, no need to keep quiet in the slightest as he forced melodic mewls and euphoric moans from your pretty little mouth, drinking them in, drowning in them, completely addicted.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, pressing a chaste, tender peck to your temple before continuing on with his work.
Once you’d pulled his cock free of its constraints, Neuvillette had to remind himself to keep his own sounds of pleasure quiet as well, gulping down the groan he already felt rising in his chest as you ran your soft little hands up and down the length of him, appearing entranced as you admired the blushing pink tip, pearly pre-cum already drooling out onto your palms, every vein and ridge of his velvety member practically committed to your memory, and making your dripping little hole flutter in anticipation.
Neuvillette gripped the gold fountain pen in his hand a little tighter, his stomach muscles flinching as you guided his cock between your soaked folds, the lace of your drenched panties giving just enough friction to make him crazy, melting his sharp mind into something dull and hazy with the slow dripping pleasure, his breath beginning to come out in short, panting huffs rather than the sure, steady, and stoic way he usually carried himself.
“God—” he exhaled, strangled and struggling to keep his composure. You grinded yourself down harder against him, your own angelic sighs of satisfaction fanning over the bit of exposed skin on his neck and making his cock pulse in your grip. Then he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to hook his thumbs into the thin, delicate waistband of your lace panties and tearing them off with one harsh, hungry tug.
And he always said you were the one who was too impatient.
“I can’t focus with you around,” he was practically growling, stealing his cock away from your clumsy little hands and guiding it by the base until he felt the tip catch on your tight little hole, tugging another sharp gasp from your throat, using the other hand to nudge you forward to sink further down onto his cock.
You bit your tongue as you felt a moan clawing its way up your chest, knowing he’d been serious when he’d told you to keep quiet— for both his sake and yours— but you couldn’t hold it in. Burying your face in his shoulder, you cried out as he forced himself the rest of the way in with one quick, stinging thrust, splitting you in two and causing fat, sparkling tears to well in your blurring vision from the sudden, burning stretch of him nestled so deep inside of you.
You felt his body relax a fraction then, shedding some of that animalistic desire and allowing him to return to the safety of the sweet, soft-spoken Daddy that you knew him to be, running a hand up and down you back in slow, soothing motions as he muttered out little apologies like, “Sorry for being so rough with you, sweetheart,” and “Daddy just couldn’t take it anymore. But don’t worry. I’m going to make it all up to you now,” until you raised your head from its hiding place in his shoulder and let him pepper loving little kisses to your neck, his mouth trailing down to the plush, flushed flesh of your exposed cleavage and sucking a little there, giving you some time to adjust to the feeling of being so painfully full of him.
“Please…” you exhaled, voice cracked and broken with another whine of pleasure as the aching in your core twisted even tighter, a cord about to snap. “Please, Daddy… I need you. Please…”
And Neuvillette didn’t wait a second longer to start rolling his hips up into you again, slow and steady at first, tugging one of his gloves free with his teeth and tossing it to land on his desk so he could feel every part of you, running the rough pad of his thumb over your pulsing, swollen clit and clenching his jaw as he winced, feeling your insides squeeze around him in that painfully sweet way you both loved so much.
“That’s it…” he encouraged, rocking up into you a little harder then as the pressure of his circles increased, knowing neither of you had much longer to go now, his voice laced with something raspy and borderline feral. “Good girl… Just like that— Archons, baby—”
You were biting the fabric of Neuvillette’s coat between your teeth, doing your best to ride him in tandem with his skillful ministrations until you were seizing up and coming undone for the first time that evening, your legs trembling and your muscles constricted as more of your glistening slick dripped down in thick, dewy strands to stain the inside of your thighs and his trousers, his cock pulsing where it was still buried deep inside your tender cunt.
He was filling you to the brim mere seconds later, the familiar flood of his viscous, sticky warmth filling your tummy and soothing you from the inside out. As you slumped in his arms, Neuvillette held you close, running the fingers of his untarnished, gloved hand through your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, tracing little patterns into the soft skin between your shoulder blades where there was a diamond cutout in your dress’s back as he helped you through the comedown.
Once he’d gone completely soft inside of you, he placed both hands under your thighs and carefully lifted you from his lap and onto the top of his desk, pushing the papers that still littered it to the far end before instructing you to lay back so he could clean you up. At least, to the best of his ability given all he really had on hand at the moment was a handkerchief. 
You flinched as the cool marble of the desktop met the backs of your bare arms, exhaling a shuddering breath through your nose as the cold air of the room kissed your exposed, soaked pussy, sending yet another chill through you.
“I know, baby…” Neuvillette cooed, giving the crisp, satiny handkerchief in his hand a quick whip so it could unfurl, starting his tender, meticulous work in caring for his favorite girl after she was so spent. “I’ll draw you a nice, warm bath once we get home, so just bare it a little longer, alright?”
As he wiped as much slick from between your legs as he could, attempting to attend to himself afterward but giving up halfway, just thankful the length of his coat would cover any lingering evidence, you felt like you could drift off to sleep again, eyelids growing heavy as the surface of the desk gradually warmed beneath you from your radiating body heat.
But you couldn’t sleep here. Not now. Because not five seconds after Neuvillette had helped you off the desk and back on your own two wobbly, tired legs, straightening out your skirts and smoothing down the front of his closed coat, there was the tell-tale knocking of one of the courthouse’s interns at the office door.
You gave your Daddy a look of concern and alarm, unsure of how much evidence of what you two had done was left in the open, but Neuvillete just flashed you a cocky grin and called out for them to enter, quietly telling you to take a seat in the big, plush armchair behind his desk as he grabbed up the papers and hurried to meet the intern halfway to hand them off, engaging in a short, pleasant conversation before sending them on their way and hopefully none the wiser.
“Alright, princess,” he beckoned you, reapproaching to offer you a hand as you stood from the chair. “Let’s go home.”
Just before allowing you to lock your arm with his like you usually did, Neuvillette knelt down and picked up a piece of shredded, icy blue lace fabric— the remnants of one of your favorite pair of panties, destroyed with his impatiently eager hands— and shoved it into his pocket.
He’d owe you new ones, plus interest, for having torn them up without any warning, but you didn’t necessarily mind.
You just hoped the next time you two did something like this in his office during work hours, he remembered to lock the door.
***
(Anyone else also sort of obsessing over some of the new Fontaine guys, or just me lol
I definitely see myself writing more for Neuvillette in the future, especially as we learn more about him.
Anyway, like always, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day! <3)
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jeffersonhairpie · 2 years
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I understand that cats hang out with the beasts they love by mirroring but does this cat understand that I hang out with the beasts I love by annoying them so much
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llamagoddessofficial · 4 months
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What would happen if MC was a sea diver? Maybe she was exploring a ship reck and the siren boys bumped into them? How would they react?
Sans: He's much more calm, when she's a diver. There's something about her already being in his territory... rather than meeting her on land and wanting to drag her into the water, he meets her in the water, and needs to not give her any reasons to stop coming to the water. No need to be scary. Just take it slow.
They had a very tender moment at their first meeting. After first sighting one another, they spent a long few minutes just watching each other. In the same way that you wouldn't expect to see an actual orca while scuba diving in relatively shallow water, Mc wasn't expecting to see an orca siren. There was also an undeniable magic to the moment, staying still as possible and holding eye contact with a highly intelligent creature from an entirely different world to your own. When he did draw in, it was slow, mutual studying - she looked at every line and scar, he pretended to care about her equipment so she wouldn't be weirded out by him constantly staring deeply into her pretty eyes. The only physical contact they shared was a single brush of her hand against his (the only part of her not covered by wetsuit) before he left, cautious not to overstay his welcome and intimidate her.
He follows her around but rarely initiates contact. He enjoys 'playing'; showing her interesting things, retrieving lost items, introducing her to new and exciting wildlife and dive spots. He's going to get her to trust him. He just has to be patient.
Red: Y'know those videos of sharks coming right up to a diver for scritches? That's him. Unlike Sans' cautious and slow approach, Red was very Red, and upon spotting her just bulldozed right over to her. She tried to be a responsible diver and not interact at all with wildlife, staying on the seafloor and slowly backing away from him, but Red wasn't gonna let that happen - and what's she going to do, swim away? Cute. She can't outswim him. On their first meeting he squeezed any part of her he could reach before she could pull out of range again (arms, legs, hips,) tapped on her scuba mask, blew bubbles at her, and bit a chunk out of one of her dive buddy's flippers as a warning. He's brazenly flirting.
He 'behaves' when she gives him attention. At first she was genuinely intimidated, but now she treats him like an overenthusiastic large dog. Funnily enough he does genuinely like scritches, especially on the parts of him he can't easily get to, like on his tail and behind his main fin.
He and Sans usually manage to alternate what days they show up to see her, but when they do see each other they frequently get into scraps. Especially if one of them thinks the other is too close. Sans doesn't like Red's forwardness with her, and Red doesn't like a crazed lonely orca being anywhere near his fragile human, but both are unwilling to kill and reveal their bloodthirsty natures. They force themselves to get along... especially when sight of the two giants fighting immediately makes her evacuate the water.
Skull: He was probably living in a wreck she dove in. It's nice and dark, but spacious, and full of interesting trinkets he can collect. On their first encounter, Skull spent most of his time silently stalking Mc in the dark water. She didn't notice him until the very last second; you can imagine the shock and terror at shining a light into a shadowy corner and illuminating a massive grinning face.
She doesn't entirely know what he would've done to her, in the confinement of that wreck, if she hadn't shone the light into his face and startled him long enough to get the fuck out of there. But from that point on, no matter where she dives, if neither Red nor Sans show up Skull will always be there. He makes his aquarium counterpart proud by stealing her things. She doesn't understand why - he gives the items back eventually, so does he even really want them? Is he a kleptomaniac? Is this just a way to get her attention? Who knows. At least he doesn't eat her. He absolutely could; despite regularly diving in groups, nobody ever sees him coming until her kit is already missing.
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