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#Cattling OCs
cattling-arts · 8 months
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I'm actually a ranger. My mom made me learn the violin.
I guess I don't hate it.
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girlboyburger · 7 months
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cow (sona) vs cow (real)
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Just thinking abt farm hand reader taking a nap on some hay bc you have a break between what you need to be doing but big daddy n Mrs bene finding you passed out. Mrs bene moves you so you're laying on her chest or round belly while big daddy scares off anyone who wants to come snuggle the sleepy human. His cock stirring at the sight of his mates laying together, imagines how you'd look stuffed with his cum and being smothered by his wife's tits...... tehe
🐮the other farmhands were terrified of trying to save you, the big bad bull guarding you didn't help the situation. Whenever one tried getting close he'd stomp and charge at them, sending them running over the fence
🐮the owners were no help, saying you'd be fine and safe but that didn't quell your colleagues worries. Mr's bené was softly Patting your head, humming a little lullaby
🐮earlier that day, you decided to take a nap under a tree and when the couple found you, they couldn't pass this opportunity up! Bené slowly picked you up and set you on her lap, combing her hands through your hair and kissing the top of your head
🐮she had to shoo big daddy away multiple times, she recognized that look in his eyes. She didn't want him to bruise your poor body, he could get very rough. And considering the fact he was pretty big "down there".. plus he hasn't showered all day. He stinks.
🐮 bené may or may not have tried coercing your sleeping form to suckle on her tits but somehow you'd always dodge her attempts.? It's like you developed a reflex for when the hybrids try anything
🐮so after a nice a nap, you wake up to see Mrs bené and the girls cooing over you, while big daddy and johnny were busy trying to hold the dog hybrids off. Brutus bit johnny in the ass, the latter punching him in the face. It's gonna be a long day..
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bumblingdragon · 7 months
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Whumptober - day 4 - Cattle Prod
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roakkaliha · 2 months
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IT'S IN OUR BLOODLINES
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ghouljams · 8 months
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I’m in a mood for cowboy! Ghost. How would Goose react if Ghost is super sick but is trying to still do his work? Would she go Mama Bear on him and force him to stay in bed while she took care of him? How would he react to someone being this attentive and caring to him while he is sick?
The problem is that Ghost is so used to toughing it out or taking care of himself that he will not tell Goose if he's sick. I think she'd know pretty quick though when he won't touch her because he doesn't wanna get her sick. No doctor Goose necessary, Momma Duck is one with the medical degree.
Simon is in the barn when you finally find him, he's been avoiding you since he left the house this morning and you're not really sure why. He's leaned against the wall, head tipped back and eyes closed, you can see the movement of his chest with each breath he takes. That's probably not good. You run through your options and settle on not being mad until he explains what's wrong. You grab his dog tags, because you know he won't risk breaking them. He sighs hard.
"Not in the mood sweetheart," He tells you, his voice is thicker than usual, too rough and deep for this late in the day.
"What's wrong with you?" You cut straight to the point. Simon doesn't even flinch, just pushes off the wall to stare you down.
"Nothing is wrong with me," It's too defensive, you narrow your eyes at him. He's not wearing his mask, it must've been real fucking uncomfortable for him to take it off. His cheeks are flushed, but not in a sunburn kind of way. You tug his tags and he resists your pull. Doesn't matter you can reach from here.
You raise a hand and press it against his forehead. Simon flinches away. Stupid bastard.
"Does daddy know you're sick?" You ask, not feeling particularly kind for asking in the first place. He should've told you.
"Doesn't need to, it won't affect my work."
"Bullshit it's not," You don't bother letting go of his chain, leading Simon out of the barn and back across the grass to his little house, "It's 100 degrees out and you're runnin' a fever, you plannin' on faintin'? You get any redder and I'll enter you in a tomato contest, swear to God I'm gonna kill ya' for this."
"You get more Texan when you're mad," Simon helpfully supplies. You don't bother turning to glare at him, you think he can feel it. He holds the screen door for you while you angrily push the house door open, more cooperative than you thought he'd be. Probably fixing to run back to work as soon as you leave. As if you would.
You don't let go of Simon until you see him sit on the bed. Even then you stand and tap your foot until he sighs and lays down like it's the hardest thing in the world. You give him a short nod and go to the bathroom for a thermometer and some cold meds. He's sat up and yanking his boots off when you come back. At least that's something. You hold out the thermometer and he takes it, but doesn't move past that.
"Under your tongue genius," You tell him already tipping purple nyquil into the little plastic cap. He eyes the cold medicine suspiciously. You set the full cap and the open bottle on the bedside table, and pull your phone out. "Either I take your temperature or Momma does, and you don't want me callin' the doctor out here."
Simon sticks the thermometer under his tongue. You don't know what it is with military men being so scared of the doctor, but it's damn useful for getting your way. You both wait for the thing to beep, you're quick to snatch it before Simon can. You're pretty sure he'll lie to you about his fever. You suck in a breath staring at the temperature on the little screen. 101, not good, and probably not helped by the heat or working all day.
"Wasn't that bad this morning," Simon grumbles. You don't spare him your glare this time.
"You-" You actually don't have an end to that sentence that doesn't make it sound like you want to strangle him. You point at the nyquil cap instead. He takes it dutifully and downs it like a shot. "I'm callin' the doctor." You tell him, because you can't really punish him for being sick, but you don't have to reward him either.
"Do not call the doctor," He warns you.
"Fine," You relent, Simon relaxes a little, "I'll call daddy." The tension is immediately back.
"Goose," Oh he's serious calling you that, too bad you're serious too, already dialing up your dad, "I'm warning you, do not." You hold the phone to your ear with a hand on your hip and wait for your father to pick up.
You don't even wait for him to ask you why you're calling you start right into it. "Simon's sick and you've been workin' him all-" Simon makes a grab for your phone while you're talking, you give a quick shout and try to hold it out of his way. He may be bigger than you but that doesn't mean he's going to stop you. Simon grabs your arm and pulls it down, you have to put real strength into keeping your phone held aloft.
"I'm fine, you don't need to call," Simon grits out, going for the more effective tactic of simply grabbing you around the waist and bodily hauling you onto the bed.
"How are you still this strong when you've got a fucking fever," You yell, trying to claw away from him. Simon just drags you back and snatches your phone.
"All fine here, sir," He tells Price quickly, keeping you pinned down with a firm hand on your back and your legs between his. He hangs up before Price can say anything and tosses your phone onto the nightstand. "Can you be less of a bloody wife for ten fucking minutes," He growls at you.
"Can you be less of a fucking soldier?" You hook your legs behind his and push up to reverse your positions. You settle angrily on his lap, and flop back on top of him.
"Forgot you could do that," Is the only response you get, half mumbled as Simon drags a hand down his face.
"Could've had a lovely day of me playing housewife, but no, it's always gotta be the hard way with you," You grumble, you hope the nyquil knocks him out before you do. You feel yourself raise with Simon's intake of breath, and lower quickly as he sighs. His hands grab you and flip you onto your stomach, you make yourself comfortable on him. He feels warm even though his clothes, you frown and press your ear to his chest to listen to his heart beat.
"You like the hard way." You can feel the rumble of his voice against your cheek.
"Not for this," you mumble, "you should've told me you weren't feeling good."
"I know," Simon sighs again.
"You'd wanna know if I was sick," Simon hums in response, you think the cold meds might be kicking in. You reach up to pat his face, "Stay awake I'm not done nagging."
"The fuck did you drug me for then?" He settles a hand on your head, the other rubbing your back with slower and slower motions. You suppose that's fair. "I'll tell ya' next time, alright? Lemme sleep."
"Fine," You relent, even though you don't fully believe him. You sort of wish Simon was a big baby about being sick, but you're also sort of glad he isn't. You wait for him to fall asleep before you get up to see if there's any soup in his little kitchenette. You expect he'll be out for a few hours, which is plenty of time for you to worry over him. Plenty of time for you to call your dad and tell him Simon's taking a sick day tomorrow, and plenty of time for you to sit on the bed next to Simon and brush his hair out of his face. He's such a soldier sometimes.
As if you wouldn't want to take care of him in sickness and in health.
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frenchfry99 · 3 months
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Missed drawing this silly man! ⛅
( @thelone-copper )
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A
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Inspired by my spelling mistake (T o T)-
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borkchoi · 3 months
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this is corkscrew and he is my world and i love him
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he works as a cowboy obviously and hes homeless so he sleeps in the bar thanks to his boyfriend ,the bar owner, Bordeaux. They started talking more and more when Bordeaux bought him a bag of fancy horse treats for his favorite horse at the ranch after Corkscrew was talking about being unable to afford them.
he always acts tough and tidy, collar always done up and shirt always tucked in, but in reality hes having a pretty rough time 9 out of 10 times.
please reblog if you are going to like! my oc content doesnt get much interest so id appreciate the reach <3
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bluetea-00 · 4 months
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Character design I did for fun :] me and my friend got the same prompt and designed based off what we thought. They don’t have a tumblr so I should be good to post it and not spoil them hehe
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whumpsday · 7 months
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K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper
@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”
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The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.
He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–
“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.
Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”
Another round of laughter.
“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”
The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.
As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.
“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”
The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.
He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.
“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”
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cattling-arts · 1 year
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The Tiger and her stripes.
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girlboyburger · 20 days
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cow's secret revealed! 🛸
fun lil alt design for cow i've been workin on >:03c
💫🛸
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beefy-the-stronk · 6 months
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Something different, a big sweet cattle guy cleric
His name is Rufus VuV
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kiddie-boi · 1 year
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Iv been doing a breed a day to try and raise money for my top surgery
u can whatch me draw them on my tiktok, user Eardogg
i would link but for some reason it wont let me
u can show support by reblogging this post, viewing, liking, and commenting on any number of my breed a day tiktoks and/or donate
Goal : $18,000
SoFar : $76
Cashapp : $donniepawvito
Paypal : eardogg
Venmo : eardogg
P.S. my commisions are open if anyone is interested :D
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roakkaliha · 1 month
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watch the moon
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thegoblinpit · 8 months
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tbh this is my favorite thing I think I have ever painted on CSP. Caed (Gardener) felt much more free and easy as a cowpoke in the Western AU on our SPoP server. I loved playing and painting him as a more secure version of himself.
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